The Golden Age: Chaotic Cosmos
by Maderfole
Summary: Book 1 of The Golden Age trilogy. Peace is attained, but even worse chaos lurks just below the surface, waiting to consume the entire Seed cosmos in a war to dwarf all previous wars. The beginning of the epic story. FINISHED. Continued in Eden Disaster.
1. Summary

This story is a work of fiction. I don't own Copyrights to GUNDAM or GUNDAM SEED or anything of that nature. Yet. I'm using the characters from Gundam SEED in my own world, based off the one from Bandai. Some characters might not act like you think they would. I'm sorry for that, but I have them react as I think they would, given the situations I put them in. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it. There's a LOT more to come after the chapters currently posted, and two sequel stories in outline after this one is completed.

Bold text signifies stressed words or loud voices; _italics_ indicate what a specific character is thinking. Hopefully it won't be too confusing to figure out who is saying or thinking what, I'm pretty sure I made that clear at all times. If you have any comments or advice or anything at all really (I don't even mind insults, as long as they are creative and factually based), feel free to post a comment.

As the link summary says, there is violence in this story. There is swearing. There is reasonably strong implied sex. There's blood, gore, and pain for many people, things I find wars to generally be about. None of it is any worse than I've seen in some animes, but I want to warn people to avoid making enemies inadvertently. If any of that offends you, please consider again what you want to read before continuing.

xxxx

Just because the story is finished doesn't mean I'm not paying attention to it. So feel free to ask questions or make comments, and I'll get back to you.


	2. The Cast and Review Replies

People read the the list of the gundams and mobile suits and ships that I put up and some people who's opinions I value said that it was a mite spoilerish. Upon reflection I agree and so it has been taken down to be replaced with a new list, one that is less spoilerish. This is a list of the casts of my respective stories. Many of them will be familiar to readers who have read to the current chapter of Chaotic Cosmos, though few of you have any inkling as to what roles some characters will play in the greater scheme of things. Trying not to be spoilerish, let's just say that Chaotic Cosmos is more replacement material for SEED Destiny, rather than anything truly much of a continuation or expansion upon the series, which is what the Eden Disaster (story #2)and The Destiny War (story #3) will consist of. Of my three planned stories, I have to say, the Eden Disaster, though yet unwritten, will likely be the most epic of them. I'll do my best to get to writing it as soon as possible, but I still have a good few hundred thousand words of Chaotic Cosmos left to get through, or a lot of Eden Disaster won't make any sense. In any case, I should stop before I give something away. Below is a list of all characters in my stories, both canon and OC. I'm also always looking for new characters... if any of you feel like lending a helping hand, I would glad accept charcter names and a brief description of the character (mobile suit pilot, ship's captain, special forces soldier, student, etc) if you want to submit one. It's not nearly as fun as featuring a character in your own story, but hey, I might as well throw the idea out there... it might appeal to someone. If you're interested, just submit one in a review. Same thing if you think you have a really killer new idea for a ship or Gundam... I'm always willing to consider the inspirations of others. Anyway, here's the cast (with the exception of some characters which just by existing with their names would be spoilerish), along with a brief note in some cases.

**Canon Characters:**

Kira Yamato (Technically Kira Hibiki, but I like Yamato better)

Lacus Clyne (always paired with Kira Yamato, one of my many favorite couples)

Athrun Zala

Cagalli Yula Attha (probably my favorite canon female character, always paired with Athrun)

Dearka Elsman (the Gundam SEED character whom I flatter myself in thinking I'm most like)

Miriallia Haw (not always much of a loud presence, but she's everywhere Dearka is)

Ysak Jule (one of the most fun characters to write... a bad good guy)

Andrew Waltfeld (fun for his quirks)

Ledonir Kisaka (isn't explored enough in the series, so I rectified it)

Murrue Ramius

Mu la Flaga (he'll show up eventually)

Shinn Asuka (as yet undeveloped, but he'll be no less major than he was in Destiny, eventually)

Lunamaria Hawke

Rey Za Burrel

Talia Gladys

Gilbert Durandal

Martin Dacosta

Sai Argyle (Sai is also an underdeveloped character in the series... done my best to spice him up a little)

Chief Murdoch

Haro (questionably a character, but surprises may be in store)

Meyrin Hawke

Arthur Trine

Erica Simmons

**Original Characters:**

Alkire Majesty aka Robert Jones (one of my leading OC's, get used to him, leader of TEMPEST)

Raine Belaruse (paired with Alkire, a more quiet presence, sniper and unarmed specialist of TEMPEST)

James Ramsgoth (heavy weapons of TEMPEST)

Victor Klein (demolitions expert of TEMPEST)

Vladimir Vlakavich aka Andre Forkav (a man with a dark past, scout and assassin of TEMPEST)

Cervantes Zunnichi (my Lord Djibril, the leader of Blue Cosmos)

Vanai Zunnichi (Cervantes's daughter, Sai's wife)

Asmodeus Sark aka the Hellhound (Intelligence Director of Blue Cosmos, a fairly major bad guy)

Ray Sark (Asmodeus's son)

Cyprus Finch aka The Lieutenant (Proof that Coordinators aren't nearly as indomitable as some think)

Thomas Glory (The Lieutenant's giant sidekick and best friend)

David Icarus (Captain in the EA space force, an as yet undeveloped character)

Chanel Belaruse (the nicer twin of the adopted Belaruse sisters, Ysak's girlfriend)

Katie Belaruse (the more aggresive twin of the Belaruse sisters, Ysak's girlfriend)

George Borander (scientist-director of the PLANTS largest corporation)

Jeremiah Borander (George's brother, one of ZAFT's top aces with Le Creuset dead)

Noah Borander (George's ten year old son, a 5th generation Coordinator, a very undeveloped character)

Michael Genesis (mysterious man who serves as George's security director and Noah's caretaker)

Aireg Randolf (ZAFT commander, contemporary of Waltfeld, old acquiantance of the Clyne Family)

Jean Dylan (EA traitor and general scummy guy)

Franklin Borander aka The Doc (member of Blue Cosmos, he's not the average mad scientist)

Mary O'Brien (Nurse at Orb Red Cross Hospital, fond of loud music)

Amy Sihov (my rather less pleasant replacement for Stella, member of the BCPU project)

Craydon Thresher (a depraved maniac killer, one of the continuation of the BCPU series)

Zacharis Frost (Everything Cray is, but worse and in a smaller, meaner package, member of the BCPU project)

Markov Ashino (there's always one bad guy who's not so bad, member of the BCPU project)

Jean Kellson (just an average Natural girl, Ashino's love interest)

Eric Kellson (Jean's older brother, member of the EA 72nd Autonomous Core Mobile Suit Division)

Lain Debora (Orb Mobile Suit ace, undeveloped)

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**Review Replies**

As some of you know, often when I get review I send a private message back to the person who reviewed, usually to thank them for reviewing and also to explain/reply to the questions or advice they gave in their review. I'll still do that, but I'm also posting this new section which will be updated frequently, where I will publicly reply to some reviews, ones that bring up questions I either see often or cover material I think might need some explanation. I hesistate to say justification, since it's my story and I'll write it how I like, but I like to have the events in my story make sense to more than just me, so I'll elaborate as need be to show my reasoning for some events that seem arbitrary or inconsistent.

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**End of a Nightmare, part 2:** Well, my anonymous reviewer, yes Ashino and especially Frost do have similar... greater in Frost's case... damage resistance to Cray. Also, I don't recall a condition where Frost or Ashino was in a cockpit that actually caught fire and burned extensively while they remained inside. They've both been in cockpits that have exploded, but not immolated. In any case, I base the survivability of my characters off of Kira's own survivability from both Gundam SEED and Gundam SEED Destiny. In Gundam SEED Kira was practically inside his own cockpit when Athrun's self destruct device destroyed both the Aegis and the Strike and he walked away from that without even a permanent scar. Similarly, Kira survived the destruction of the Freedom when Shinn in the Destiny stabbed it through the chest and it blew up in an almost nuclear detonation for some reason (as a nuclear engineer I can tell you, a Nuclear reactor doesn't blow up in a nuclear explosion when destabilized... its just not the same sort of thing as a bomb). If Kira, who's not exactly Mr. Super-buff soldier man, can survive things like that, I don't feel too bad about having my BCPU's, designed and specifically augmented to be tougher and stronger than Coordinators, survive things like they do. It lets me screw them over without having to get rid of them until I want to. And to respond to your first sentence... is Cray really anything, now? He's not dead... but he's an invalid, completely at the mercy of other people. For someone like Cray, who's always enjoyed lording his physical superiority above everyone, I can not imagine a worse fate than to be dependent on others for everything for the rest of his life... his resilience worked against him this time, since if he was dead then he'd be free... he's still a prisoner to the schemes of others now. His freedom is still a long ways off...

**My Latest Anonymous Reviewer (Chap 85):** The Judgement was designed to be used by a BCPU. However, the BCPU designated for it was not Frost or Cray or Ashino or any other BCPU yet named in the story, though the Doc did once mention that both Cray and Frost had the necessary level of ability to handle the Judgement. But they already had Gundams, the Merciless and the Fury, built for them. The Judgement would have been assigned to some other BCPU, had JIHAD and the Doc not met their fates. As for what Lacus and Co will do, well its always hard for me to say, as their position is not intuitively easy for me to write, it being very idealistic, but they won't kill everyone. They will still play a critical role in finally ending the war, when the time comes for it to end. As for the range of Noah's Newtype power... well its very relative. Against someone like Frost, he was able to reach him from quite far away... hundreds maybe even thousands of kilometers. Against a Stump, probably only a few hundred feet at the very most. Other Newtypes would fit somewhere in those boundaries, though he could also sense Lacus from very far away. And don't fret... Alkire and co still have a lot to do in the story, and the ones after... they won't be slipping off backstage anytime soon.


	3. New Beginning

"Is he okay?" a worried but familiar voice asked. There were sounds of people moving about and talking in low voices, but the person lying on the bed couldn't make out any specifics.

"I don't know if okay is the right word, but he's definitely alive. Kira's too strong willed to let himself die after winning the war." a second voice answered. _This voice was also familiar. Athrun. That was it. Athrun was the second voice. Athrun was a... friend. That's right._ Kira groaned and tried to open his eyes. The light immediately made him shut them again, but in his brief glimpse he figured out what was happening. He was lying on a bed; in a brightly lit room on what he guessed was the Eternal, since that was probably the most intact ship left of the three-ship alliance. Kira noticed that he was still wearing his piloting space suit, so he couldn't have been out for long. Standing around the bed he was lying in were Cagalli, Athrun and Lacus. All wore concerned expressions.

"His eyes fluttered! He's waking up!" The first voice said excitedly. It was Lacus. The girl who had given him her ring as a keepsake just before he had left to stop the war once and for all. The girl who both confused and entranced him above all others, whom he had kissed on the cheek and promised he'd return to.

"Oooh. My head hurts. Could someone turn down the lights?" Kira protested. He slitted his eyes open again, just as the room grew much more comfortably dimmer.

"Better?" Cagalli asked.

"Much. Though I still feel like I've been freshly squeezed out of a toothpaste tube." Kira replied. He made as if to sit up, but got no more than a few inches before he was forced to lay back down again with a groan. Almost instantly a cool hand positioned itself on his forehead and gently pressed him down onto his pillow. It felt really nice and comforting. Kira gazed upwards into Locus's sky blue eyes and noticed the drops of moisture welling up in their corners. "I'm fine, really. Just tired and worn out." he tried to reassure her. Lacus shook her head.

"I'm just so happy you came back. For a long moment there, I thought you weren't going to keep your promise." she said shyly in her lyrical voice. Kira attempted a brave smile, but must have utterly failed because she immediately pressed her hand down on him harder. "Don't get up, Kira. You don't have to do anything but rest now. The fighting is over." she told him.

"What happened?" Kira asked, suddenly curious. Athrun slapped his forehead with his palm.

"Are you serious? You don't remember?" Kira shook his head slightly. "I can't believe this. The guy practically saves the entire human race and he doesn't remember." Athrun said incredulously. Kira just looked at him earnestly. "Fine. Fine. You battled Rau Le Crueset to a standstill and eventually defeated him, though the Freedom was ravaged in the process. Rau was killed when the GENESIS fired. You yourself only barely escaped." Athrun informed him. Kira had a puzzled look on his face.

"But if GENESIS fired, what happened to the Earth?" Kira asked, worried again. Athrun looked embarrassed and rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly as he stared off into space.

"Well, before the beam could gather any real energy I self destructed the Justice inside it's power core and destroyed the weapon. It fired just long enough to totally vaporize Rau and his Gundam." Athrun explained. Kira stared at him and smiled.

"Wouldn't that make YOU the savior of the entire human race then? I didn't do anything besides duel a deranged madman. You destroyed the weapon that would have wiped out life on Earth." Kira pointed out. "How did you get out of there alive? There's no way that you could have outrun a nuclear explosion in just your spacesuit."

Athrun looked even more embarrassed. "Well... Cagalli sort of came in after me and reminded me that it wasn't my time to die yet." Cagalli stepped forward and grinned.

"What Athrun means to say is that I came in after him in the Strike Rouge despite his express wishes to the contrary and saved his butt by refusing to fly away unless he left with me. In order to kill himself he would have had to kill me too, and apparently he wasn't able to do that." Cagalli clarified with a significant look at Athrun that Kira totally missed.

"Thank you Athrun, for protecting my little sister like I asked. And thank you, Cagalli, for protecting my best friend, even though I didn't ask." Kira said sincerely.

"BIGGER sister." Cagalli insisted. "And I didn't save him just for your sake either." she continued in a quieter tone.

"Huh? What's that mean?" Kira asked, puzzled again.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Hey Athrun, why don't we give Kira and Lacus some time to catch up with each other? We have some other stuff we could be doing." Cagalli said, turning a slight shade of red. The lights were too dim for anyone but Athrun to notice however. Athrun nodded and pushed off so he floated towards the door. Cagalli joined him at the threshold.

"Hey." Kira called. They both turned. "Thanks, both of you." they smiled and departed, closing the door behind them.

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"So what else is it we could be doing?" Athrun asked Cagalli as they floated along a corridor. She arced an eyebrow at him as if he was totally brainless. Athrun looked uncomfortable. "Um... well... err." he never got to finish his thought though, as Cagalli pulled him into another empty room and locked the door behind them. However, to his surprise, she merely sat down on the made bed. She patted the mattress next to her and sent him a significant look. Athrun shrugged slightly and sat down next to her.

"You and I need to talk." she told him and surprised him again by slipping an arm around his waist.

"About what?" Athrun asked cautiously. Cagalli turned and stared him in the eyes from less than six inches away.

"About you trying to sacrifice yourself without considering what it would have done to ME! About how you intended to renege on the promise to protect each other we made before even leaving the Eternal in the first place. That's what we need to talk about." She said vehemently

"But... uh... um... err." Athrun stammered, trying to think of what to say. Cagalli seemed to be waiting patiently for him to collect himself. "I... I couldn't figure out any other way to save the Earth without doing what I did." Athrun managed, turning his eyes away. He nearly jumped when Cagalli used her other hand to grab him by the chin and turn his face forcibly to hers.

"I'm not unhappy with you for deciding to blow up GENESIS by self destructing the Justice. It was a stroke of desperate brilliance." she informed him. Athrun started to relax. "I am, however, VERY unhappy with you because you were planning to kill yourself in the process. You and I swore we would protect each other before the battle, and yet you tried to send me away so I couldn't stop you from killing yourself." She continued sharply.

"I... I was trying to protect you from being destroyed along with me!" Athrun protested, starting to get annoyed. Cagalli released his chin and pounded him on his chest.

"You just don't get it, do you? You may have been protecting my life, but I still would have died if you had gone up with the Justice. I would have been alive, but dead inside. By killing yourself, you would have been slaying me just as much as if you decided to stick a knife in me right now!" Cagalli cried out. Athrun was dumbfounded. He was totally flatfooted and surprised.

"Ca-Cagalli?" he whispered. She ceased pounding on his chest with her fist and instead buried her face just under his chin. He could feel her weeping. "I... I'm sorry. I guess I didn't think of it that way. I-It's just that my Father... my Father's death... his final words... I just... couldn't..." Athrun started weeping himself now. His mind started playing back the images. Opening the door to the command room. Looking in, only to see his Father and another man floating through the air, blood pouring from multiple gunshot wounds. Of looking his Father in the face as Patrick Zala gripped Athrun by the shoulders and pleaded with him to fire GENESIS and wipe out Earth before gasping his last in a torrent of vomited blood. "I... just... just... felt empty inside. Like I had nothing left to live for. When... when I couldn't hack the self destruct system and avert disaster, I just snapped. I wasn't thinking straight. Oh... god." he sobbed. It took him several minutes to discover Cagalli was no longer nestled against him. He looked up with eyes full of tears.

"You do have something to live for, Athrun Zala. Just as I too, have something to live for now." Cagalli whispered into his ear. Athrun couldn't help himself. He shivered with pent up feeling. He stared into her eyes and found that they seemed to have become endless pools of understanding and... dare he think it... love.

"Ca-Ca-Cagalli?" he asked.

"Yes." She answered, before kissing him full on the mouth. After a few moments, they collapsed back on the bed together, arms around each other as they cried and kissed and cried some more, until they both feel asleep.

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"What do you suppose they meant by having other things to do?" Kira asked Lacus after the door had shut. Lacus just stared at him. She smiled slightly, wondering, between the two of them, who was the more naive. "And what did they mean about us catching up?" Kira asked a moment later. Lacus sighed inwardly. It was a good thing he wasn't this dense all the time. Maybe it was just because he really was worn out.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" Lacus asked, looking him straight in the eyes. He looked back, but his purple orbs turned away slightly as he replied.

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"Stop lying to me. You don't have too, you know." Lacus reminded him.

"Have to what?" Kira asked hesitantly.

"Have to not cry anymore. I thought we went over that already." she answered calmly. Kira looked her in the eyes this time. He couldn't stand it. Within seconds tears began welling up from deep inside him. Something about Lacus made him feel safe and comfortable. Like he could trust her and tell her everything. He moved his hand slightly and felt the ring she had given him where he had placed it in his pocket.

"I... I failed to protect someone. Again." Kira said miserably. Lacus nodded. Just as she had thought.

"The girl named Flay, right?" she prompted. Kira looked at her, startled.

"I heard Sai and Captain Ramius mention her name on my way to your room." Lacus explained.

"Y-Yes. Flay. Flay Allister." Kira managed.

"She was the one with red hair and the bad temper when I first met you at Junius Seven, right?" Lacus asked, trying to place the memory. Kira started again.

"Yes. Though she was just afraid, not bad tempered." Kira qualified. Lacus studied him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Kira thought about it for a long moment, thinking back. Remembering. The kisses, the time he had slept with Flay, the time when he broke up with her at Orb. The sight of seeing her killed by Rau right in front of his eyes, just after he had thought her saved. Talking with her ghost afterwards, in the fugue state he must have been in.

"Not really." Kira replied. "Maybe... later." he continued gloomily. Lacus sighed and nodded her acceptance. It wasn't like she could force him to talk about it. Though she was sure it was eating him up inside. For a long time they just sat there silently, each thinking their own thoughts, each getting more steadily more depressed. Kira kept replaying the scenes of Flay's death and the death of her father over and over in his head. _Oh Flay, I failed. I couldn't save you. Just like for your father. I'm worthless. I couldn't even save the people I swore to protect._

Lacus on the other hand, was despairing for an entirely different reason. _I can't just tell him I love him! I don't know how he'll react! With all the emotional baggage he is carrying, I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him without causing him permanent psychological damage. Worst of all, he just doesn't seem to notice my feelings! Am I being too subtle? But if I'm too obvious, I'll scare him away! He's so fragile. Like a diamond. He can cut through anything, but strike him a single hard blow and he'll shatter into a thousand pieces, never to be repaired. I fear that until he can clear his guilt, a relationship will only serve as that hard blow. But... it hurts me too. Please, please Kira, I desperately need you to care. I don't have anyone else!_

The door suddenly opened, sending bright hallway light spilling in. Ysak poked his head in and looked around quickly. "Is Dearka in here..." he stared at the two of them, who were quite unconsciously weeping. Ysak looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I guess he's not here." Without further ado, Ysak shut the door and jumped back into the hall.

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_Sheesh, what was THAT? Ysak thought as he kept moving down the hall, checking each room to see if Dearka was inside. They were both just sitting there crying, looking like somebody had just died or something._ Ysak paused his train of thought to check an empty room. Of course, a lot of people DID just die. Still, the way they were just sitting there silently, each crying... it creeped him out. The next two rooms were empty too. The third was locked. Ysak narrowed his eyes. It'd be just like Dearka to try and lock himself away to avoid talking to Ysak about important things. Important things like their responsibilities to the PLANTS, and why exactly Dearka had been staying on the Legit Ship for the past few months. Ysak studied the lock panel and quickly typed in a command override. It helped having a mother on the PLANT Council. Ysak had seen and studied the design specs for the Eternal the moment he had first been dispatched by Commander Le Crueset to hunt down Athrun. Listed on the specs were all the command overrides for the computer system of the Eternal.

The formerly locked room was brightly lit, which served to almost illuminate the situation Ysak walked into. "Hello, Dea...rka..." Ysak stopped, stupefied. Lying on the bed of the room, with their arms wrapped around each other and faces nearly touching were Athrun Zala and that Orb girl, Cagalli or something. They were both deep asleep. _What the hell? How come I keep walking into these situations? First Kira and Lacus sitting within feet of each other but both crying like their best friend just died, and now Athrun lying with his arms around a Natural girl, after both of them had obviously cried themselves to sleep. Am I the only person NOT weeping?_ A sudden uncomfortable thought crossed Ysak's mind before he could stop it. _Am I the only guy who doesn't have a girl who cares about him? No, no. Dearka doesn't either. Okay. Time to go._ Ysak slowly backed out of the room and closed the door. After a moment's thought he relocked it as well. He continued down the hall, searching every room methodically, growing steadily angrier.

"God damn it!" Ysak slammed his fist into a bulkhead. "Where the hell did you disappear too, Dearka?" Ysak suddenly perked up, his refined ears having picked out a familiar voice.

"I'm really okay, you know. It's just a little cut." Dearka said from the near distance. Ysak grinned and pounced around the next corner.

"De...!" Ysak stopped even colder than last time. Dearka was leaning against a view port wall, looking out at space with his head turned slightly to the right. The reason for this was a brown haired natural girl in a pink Earth Forces uniform was dabbing at his left temple with a gauze pad, trying to staunch the trickles of blood coming from the scalp wound Dearka had suffered when Rau nearly destroyed the Buster. Neither the girl nor Dearka noticed Ysak.

"It's not good for you to be bleeding all over the place. Even if it doesn't hurt, you're getting the ship dirty." the girl said, her voice veiled. Ysak expected Dearka to respond with his typical detached sarcasm. That was Dearka's way, to riposte with a cutting remark whenever the subject of Natural's came up.

"Yes Mir." Dearka said humbly. Ysak's jaw dropped.

"Miriallia. Full name please. We aren't to the nickname stage yet." Miriallia corrected him. Dearka looked at her in surprise.

"I didn't even know we were to the you giving a damn about me stage yet." he replied. Miriallia smiled slightly.

"We aren't. But if you're good I might let you graduate to the person I occasionally talk to off of duty stage." she informed him with a slight twinkle in her eye. Dearka stared at her in incomprehension.

"I don't get you at all. For a while I thought you hated my guts. Now you're teasing me. Make up your..." Dearka stopped talking, because Miriallia had pressed her gauze pad to his lips.

"We certainly aren't to the you giving me advice stage. Besides, we have an audience." she tilted her head at Ysak. Ysak didn't know whether to be furious or appalled. Here he was, having searched nearly the entire damned ship, with important matters to discuss, and Dearka was getting a superficial cut attended to by a Natural girl who was jerking him around like a puppy on a leash. And Dearka wasn't even mad about it!

"Dearka! So this is where you've been hiding!" Ysak gritted out, shooting the Natural girl a glance that had sent many a Coordinator scurrying for shelter. Indeed, she did back up a step, but before she could flee Dearka put a hand on her shoulder and sent a glare of his own at Ysak, of all people.

"Stop looking at her like that, Ysak." Dearka ordered coldly. "It's not a very nice thing to do." Ysak's jaw dropped even further this time. He couldn't believe Dearka was siding with a Natural girl AGAINST him, his closest friend! Miriallia took a step away from Dearka's hand.

"I didn't say you could put your hand on my shoulder." she said primly. Dearka snatched his hand back as if he had placed it on a searing hot piece of metal.

"S-Sorry." he stammered. Ysak just stared. She had him whipped. It was sickening. This wasn't the Dearka Ysak had known for years.

"I'll leave you two to discuss whatever it is you're discussing. I'll meet you later. Bye." Miriallia said over her shoulder as she walked past Ysak. As she turned the corner she waved to Dearka. Grinning like a fool, Dearka waved back. As soon as the girl was out of sight, Ysak stepped forward.

"Would you STOP THAT!" he roared. "That was absolutely pitiful! You looked like a four year child waving goodbye to mommy!" Ysak continued. "What is it with Coordinators today? First Kira and Lacus crying like there's no tomorrow but not making a sound or looking at each other. Then Athrun sleeping with his arms around that Natural girl from Orb in a locked room with all the lights on. Now you, Dearka, getting a tiny little cut pampered on by ANOTHER Natural girl who is also yanking you around like a puppy on a chain! You didn't even get sarcastic! I think I feel sick!" Ysak ranted. Dearka just looked at him.

"Something bothering you, Ysak? It's Rau, isn't it?" Dearka replied. Ysak stopped in mid rage. To tell the truth, that was it. A man that Ysak had trusted and even looked up to all his military life had ended up being bent on a genocidal campaign to wipe out every last human, Natural AND Coordinator. Rau had also tried to kill Dearka, Ysak's best friend, right in front of him! And if half of what he'd heard from the crew of the Eternal was true, it had been Rau who had manipulated both sides into using nuclear weapons on each other by sending the plans for the N-Jammer Cancellers to Azrael Murata, the leader of Blue Cosmos! In short a major support of Ysak's life had been kicked out from underneath him in the last few hours and he had nobody to talk to about it!

"I tried to warn you." Dearka said, placing a hand on Ysak's shoulder. That was the worst part. Dearka HAD warned him, back on the Mendel Colony. Ysak had accused Dearka of being deceived and Dearka had asked if it wasn't Ysak that was actually being deceived. Ysak had been confused at the time, but now... NOW he knew exactly what Dearka had been trying to tell him.

"What is going on?" Ysak said, putting one hand to his head, which had suddenly started to ache horribly.

"I know. I feel like I've been cut loose from my foundations too, Ysak. I'd always believed the PLANTS were in the right. Now I'm not so sure anyone was anything but in the wrong. Sure, Junius Seven was a horrible and dastardly event, but our side just tried to end ALL life on Earth. And judging from what I heard on the Archangel a few months ago, the PLANTS would have eventually used GENESIS anyways, even if the Naturals hadn't tried nukes again. I mean, we did build the N-Jammer Cancellers in the first place." Dearka said into the silence, resting his head against the wall again. The silence stretched out again.

"What was that you said about Athrun sleeping with Cagalli?" Dearka asked suddenly.

"Humph. When I was looking for you I came across a locked room. I figured you were deliberately avoiding me and so I hacked the lock code and broke in. The room lights were on and Athrun was lying on his side on the bed, his arms around... Cagalli you called her... and vice versa. They looked like they had cried themselves to sleep. Their faces couldn't have been more than two inches apart." Ysak replied, sinking into a slouch on the floor.

"Which, of course means they'd been kissing, right." Dearka mused, slouching down next to Ysak. Ysak sighed.

"Probably. I never saw it coming. What the hell has been happening with you guys since that island outside Orb?" Ysak asked.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" Dearka asked, ignoring Ysak's question. Ysak started.

"WHAT? What makes you think I'd be jealous of Athrun?" Ysak demanded.

"You've never kissed a girl, have you, Ysak? And kissing your mom goodbye doesn't count." Dearka replied.

"WHAT? Where the hell did that come from? O-of course I've kissed girls before." Ysak protested, wondering where the hell his friend was going.

"Sure you have. What was the name of the girl you kissed?" Dearka said with a knowing smile. Ysak just stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I don't have to answer that. It's too personal." Ysak hedged. "Why are we talking about this?"

"Because I'm in love. I am jealous of Athrun, the lucky bastard." Dearka replied.

"You mean..." Ysak trailed off, wondering what had happened to his friend. Dearka had always been a bit of a ladies man. Dealing with girls was something he was actually good at. Ysak was phenomenally bad at the same.

"Yep. Miriallia. She fascinates me, Ysak. I can't get her out of my head." Dearka admitted. Ysak became curious.

"Why do you let her yank you around like that? Used to you'd never stand for that sort of treatment from a girl."

"... I said something really hurtful and stupid to her when we first met." Dearka replied.

"Huh?"

"I asked her why she was crying so much. I said maybe it was because her stupid Natural boyfriend had just gone off and died or something." Dearka paused.

"I can see why that might be upsetting, I guess." Ysak mused.

"That's not the worst part. Turns out her Natural boyfriend, named Tolle, had just died fighting Athrun in the battle when Athrun self-destructed the Aegis. His corpse probably wasn't even cold yet when I said that." Dearka whimpered at the memory.

"Ouch." Ysak felt his stomach drop at the thought of being told something like that. "What'd she do?"

"Tried to stab me in the head with a scalpel while I was chained to a bed. She came pretty close too. Her friends came in and restrained her, and that's when I learned about my verbal blunder. Then a second Natural girl, named Flay I believe came in with a gun and was going to shoot me. Before she could, Miriallia dived across the room and deflected Flay's aim and the shot missed. She saved my life... even after I ripped her heart wide open. Ever since then I could hardly stop thinking about her and how horrible I had been to her. I gotta make it up to her. That's why, as you said, I let her yank me around. Also because I truly enjoy it. She's so much more complex than every other girl I've been with before. When I turn on the charm she plays hard to get and when I don't she tantalizes me. It's driving me nuts." Dearka confessed. Ysak studied his friend.

"This is all just crazy. This whole day." Ysak complained.

"It's only going to get crazier, I fear." Dearka replied.


	4. Tempestuous Relationships

The sentry walked his rounds across the wall of the compound deep in the Andean jungles of South America. The sounds of monkey's and birds resounded out of the jungle, just like they always did, for what seemed like twenty four hours a day. The sentry loosened his collar in the stifling heat and humidity. It was fated to be his last mortal action. Suddenly his head was jerked to the side as if he had just been punched across the mouth. Blood poured from his shattered skull and splattered on the ground. The man literally never knew what hit him.

"Sentry is down." Raine Belaruse said over her encrypted radio as she shifted her sniper rifle's point of aim to a neutral position, waiting for more targets. Below her, in the bushes of the jungle, two men raced forward in a coordinated movement of fire and advance, without the firing part. They reached the edge of the clear space around the compound and one of them halted, setting up a large weapon. The other took several more steps forward before dropping prone, his assault rifle sweeping the wall for targets.

"Vlad... take em out!" the man with the assault rifle ordered. Deep within the bowels of the compound, Vladimir Valkavich tightened his garrote around the throat of the base radio operator. The man frantically scrabbled with clawing fingers for the alarm button, but was drawn inexorably back by the slim Russian. The radio operator kicked and gurgled, then subsided, his windpipe crushed.

"Radio down." Vlad reported before spitting on the corpse. "Damn Blue Cosmos."

"Victor!" the man with the assault rifle said sharply. In response, plumes of flame and smoke instantly rose from a half dozen or so places around the compound, tumbling walls to the ground and shaking the forest with the deafening roar of high explosives.

"Ja, Major. It is done." Victor Klien reported from the opposite side of the compound. Soldiers in all manners of undress, many without weapons, came boiling out of various points of the half destroyed base, shouting and jabbering contradictory orders.

"Alright James, it's our show now." the man addressed as Major said. As soon as he finished speaking, the stuttering sound of heavy machine gun fire filled the air. James, back at the tree line, slowly hosed his stream of bullets back and forth through the milling crowds of soldiers. Bodies spun, jerked and flew backwards. Blood and bone shards flew through the air like horizontal rain. Finally the crowd of soldiers figured out where the firing was coming from and began to head that way, seeking cover in the rubble of the walls, firing what weapons they had. "Uh, uh, uh we can't have that now." Major Alkire Majesty whispered, taking careful aim with his automatic rifle. Firing in long bursts, he wheedled the enemy out from their hidey-holes, so that James's heavy weapon could mow them down like so many wailing weeds. Raine helped out by hitting those who were exposed to fire from above, from her perch in the treetops. The enemy collapsed when Victor and Vladimir hit them from behind. There were no survivors. But then again, the mission profile hadn't called for any.

Later, as the five person squad of commandos were picking through the wreckage, checking for survivors, Alkire came across a large white flag, with the symbol of a blue galaxy on it. "I'd say we hit the right target." he commented, shaking his head. "I still can't believe we're doing this."

"Hey, you guy's didn't have to come along." Vlad said in his normal bleak tones. James came up and clapped the slimmer man across the shoulders. A dull sound of flesh on metal resounded.

"We couldn't let you go by yourself, you'd have been killed. Besides, these fucker's needed killing." James reminded everyone. The target installation had been a Blue Cosmos terrorist training center, where the people that would eventually go out on suicidal Coordinator assassination missions received basic arms and tactical training. The training had been basic indeed, judging from the prospective terrorists conduct in the battle. The crisp sound of sharp metal puncturing skin and bone came from nearby.

"Victor... that one was already dead." Raine complained. Victor stood over the corpse, his razor sharp saber sticking out from the skull where he had thrust it moments before.

"Never can be too sure." Victor replied in his heavy Germanic accent. Raine looked down at the corpse.

"Half his head was blown off by my sniper bullet. If he's not dead from that, sticking your sword in his head probably doesn't bother him too much." Raine mused. Alkire smiled slightly.

"Allright people, enough with the bullshit. Let's do a sweep, remove any evidence and get the hell out of here. When we get back home, the beers are on me." he ordered. As the squad began its sweep, Alkire shook his head mentally. Who'd a thought that now, two months after the actual war between the Earth Forces and the PLANTS was over, that'd he'd still be fighting? Certainly not him. Alkire wasn't sure exactly what had happened up there in space at Jachin Due, the reports had been extremely garbled at the time of the battle, and everybody was keeping quiet about it afterwards, but the rumor mill said the entire Earth had come within about five seconds of being rendered into an irradiated wasteland. Alkire reminded himself to raise a toast to whoever the hell it was that averted THAT catastrophe. Alkire himself had been on Earth at the time, as had every other member of his squad, codenamed TEMPEST. The PLANTS and Earth Alliance had started peace talks during the ceasefire that followed the battle of Jachin Due, but they really hadn't gone anywhere. Blue Cosmos was still much too strong in the EA for peace talks to ever go anywhere. Almost every meeting had occurred under the threat of car bombs, suicide assassins and even, once, Mobile Suit attack.

Alkire harrumphed to himself. That was why TEMPEST was doing what it was now. If Blue Cosmos was removed from the equation, then peace might actually have a chance. The five-person squad might not be able to cleave the organization in two, but they could nibble away at it, causing it to die from a thousand paper cuts. At least, that was the plan. Alkire smiled again. If anyone had ever told him a few months ago, that he, a Natural commando, would be systematically exterminating the most dire enemies of the Coordinators he probably would have recommended the person for a mental institution. It's not that Alkire supported Blue Cosmos, not at all. It's just that the Coordinators WERE the enemy then. Sweep completed, TEMPEST stole off into the woods, headed for their transport home.

------------------------------------------------

"What the hell happened, Captain?" the man in the shadowed chair said. Captain Asmodeus Sark stood up straighter and blinked his eyes to clear the tears as he stared into the harsh spotlights that glared down at him.

"Well, Mr. Zunnichi, one of our training centers was hit earlier in the day. One of the Andes facilities." Captain Sark replied.

"Not THAT facility?" Mr. Zunnichi, CEO of Cosmos Weapons Manufacturers, the legitimate organization that supplied weapons technology to the EA (Earth Alliance) hissed while leaning forward.

"No... just a minor training center. There were no survivors. It looked like a job done by specialists. The walls were taken down with high explosives, the trainees were machine gunned to death when they rushed out of the buildings. The one item of interest is that the Radio Operator was found with his throat crushed. By a garrote." Captain Sark reported stiffly. Mr. Zunnichi relaxed.

"Well, as long as the JIHAD facility is still undiscovered, the loss is minor." the CEO replied. Captain Sark nodded in agreement. Blue Cosmos had training and indoctrination centers in nearly every country in the world, except for places like Orb. "Still, this isn't something we can just let happen. You say the Radioman was garroted to death?" Mr. Zunnichi asked contemplatively. Captain Sark nodded. Mr. Zunnichi smiled. "Do a routine checkup on some of our estranged members. At this critical juncture, we can hardly afford a rogue killer on the loose."

"Yes, Sir!" Captain Sark replied with a sharp salute, before about facing and marching from the room.

"Progress report on Project JIHAD." Mr. Zunnichi said into the silence. A video screen blinked into existence on one wall of his office. The man that nervously looked out of the screen reminded Mr. Zunnichi of the stereotypical mad scientist, with wild eyes and long white hair sticking up in random directions. The man even wore a lab coat stained with what looked like blood.

"The Merciless, the Fury and the Bane are 85 percent complete. The Purifier is 100 percent complete. Strike Crusader production now stands at thirty units." the man replied quickly. Mr. Zunnichi tapped his fingers on his desk in pleasure.

"Good work. What of the pilots?"

"Biological CPU 4 Ashino is adapting well to his new capacities." the scientist replied, then paused.

"And the others?"

"Well... Mr. Zunnichi, you know that we never even considered going beyond level 4. Mr. Azrael thought it was unsafe sir. And it is. At level 4 the subject becomes withdrawn and sometimes obsessive. At level 5 the subjects become maniacal and actively homicidal." the scientist looked even more nervous. "Already they have tried to slit Ashino's throat several times, and have succeeded in strangling three of their watchers."

"And at level 6? What of Frost?" Mr. Zunnichi asked politely, though a dangerous light gleamed in his eyes.

"BCPU Frost is madness incarnate. If we didn't keep him sedated around the clock every living being in this facility would be dead and probably eaten. He's unstoppable." the scientist complained. Mr. Zunnichi smiled widely.

"That's just what I wanted to hear. You have done good work. Our timetable has been moved up. As soon as the Merciless, the Bane and the Fury are completed, inform me. You will be well rewarded for your efforts." Mr. Zunnichi said. The scientist bowed and the screen blinked off, leaving the room in total darkness. Almost as total as the heart of the man that sat quietly in his plush leather chair.

-----------------------------------------

"WHAT?" Ysak yelled. "What do you mean "I can't go home just yet."?" he started to pace back and forth, driving his hand into the metal bulkhead with every pass.

"Just what I said, Ysak." Ezalia Jule replied from the video monitor. "Things here are much too confused. The council is barely functioning enough to send ambassadors to the Peace Conferences. The entire GENESIS fiasco has backlashed onto the PLANTS. People wished to end the war, but the idea of wiping out all life on Earth is too much. Nearly the entire military is under suspicion for committing war crimes." she continued, her voice cracking slightly.

"War crimes! What about Boaz and Junius Seven?" Ysak protested. Ezaria just looked at him.

"We are of course pursuing justice for those acts. But right now we can't even get past a barely civil ceasefire. The civilian population of the PLANTS has lost a great deal of trust in the military and governing body. We even had large scale riots and protest marches asking the council members to step down." Ezaria admitted. "I myself have received death threats for my part in supporting Chairman Zala." she said quietly. Ysak stared, dumbfounded.

"Y-you were threatened by other Coordinators?" he asked, disbelieving. "Mother, I have to get home. I have to help out! I'm going nuts cooped up on the Eternal with Lacus Clyne and her supporters for the last two months."

Ezaria looked at her son and a tear trickled down her cheeks. "Ysak, if you come home now, you'll be thrown into prison. Footage of your Duel Gundam destroying a shuttle full of fleeing civilians has been circulating throughout the PLANTS. We'd have to put you in prison in order to save your life! I have received death threats, yes. You, however... they attacked the barracks where you were supposed to be staying and torched it. Since Rau le Creuset is dead, you've become the new scapegoat for everything that's gone wrong with the ZAFT military." she said, wiping away the tear. Ysak just stared dumbly.

"Goodbye, for now, Ysak. I'll get into contact with you on Earth. I love you. Be safe." Ezaria said and the communication terminated. For several long minutes, Ysak could do nothing but stare off into space. This was all crazy! Dearka had been right... again. Every day since the start of the ceasefire seemed to be more insane than the one before. The door to Ysak's quarters hissed open and Dearka and Athrun stepped through.

"... So that's when she hauled off and slapped me. I just don't get her." Dearka was saying, nursing a bright red handprint on one cheek.

"Everyone is getting tense, being forced to stay on board the Eternal and Kusanagi for the last two months. I saw Lacus yelling at Commander Waltfeld yesterday." Athrun replied. "Though if I was Miriallia I would have slapped you in that situation too."

Dearka turned to Ysak. "Hey, Ysak..." he paused, surprised. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's happened?"

Ysak collapsed into a chair. "The world has been turned upside down." he moaned. Athrun and Dearka looked at each other.

"Huh?" they chorused.

"I just finished talking with my mother. The military is under suspicion for war crimes because of the GENESIS incident. The council has been asked to publicly step down. There are protest marches and riots in the streets of the PLANTS. My mother has received DEATH THREATS from other Coordinators!" Ysak said angrily.

"I knew about the riots and stuff. Lacus has been obsessively tuned into the news coming out of the PLANTS for the last two months. Cagalli's been doing the same for Earth and they've been comparing notes." Athrun replied. "I guess it helps them keep sane, a way of dealing with the constant boredom of just floating here in space because neither side knows what to do with us."

"That's not the worst part. I just learned I'm the number one persona non grata in the PLANTS right now. I've been held up as an example of everything that's gone wrong with ZAFT. People torched my barracks room back home. My mother said I'd have to be placed in jail in order to preserve my life if I came back home. I just don't know what to do anymore!" Ysak said bitterly. Dearka and Athrun stared at him and looked at each other, expressions serious.

"I had no idea things were that bad." Athrun muttered. Dearka smiled and attempted to cheer Ysak up.

"Hey, at least they aren't to the stage of burning effigy's of you in the street." he said with a smile. Ysak picked up his portable computer and chucked it at Dearka. "Ugh!" Dearka cried as the weighty plastic device dug into his gut. He dropped to the ground and rolled around, trying to get his breath back.

"That was uncalled for, Ysak!" Athrun said warily. Ysak shot to his feet and stormed out of the room. Athrun could hear him stomping down the hall for quite a ways. He knelt down by Dearka. "Are you okay?"

"Just... fine. Will... teach... me... to make light... of... Ysak's problems." Dearka managed, still contorted on the ground. Athrun was about to reply when a heavy bag smashed him across the back of the head and sent him piledriving into the floor.

"What did you do to Dearka!" Cagalli shouted, twirling a large canvas bag full of what felt like iron bars but was actually clothing.

"What did I do to Dearka?" Athrun exclaimed. "I was trying to help him! Then you sapped me across the back of the head with that monstrous bag!" he complained, rubbing his head. Cagalli looked at him, as if not sure whether to believe him or not. Miriallia bounded through the door next.

"Cagalli! What's the hold... up?" she began, looking at the two boys sprawled on the floor. Miriallia dropped her two equally large bags and rushed over to Dearka. "Dearka! Are you okay? What did Athrun do to you?" she said in a concerned voice, shooting Athrun a nasty glare.

"I didn't do anything to Dearka!" Athrun protested. Both girls looked at him as if they didn't believe him. "Ysak threw a computer at him!" Athrun informed them.

"It's true." Dearka said, sitting up and rubbing his gut. He looked at Miriallia. "Does this mean you forgive me for waiting inside your room for you to get back from the shower? It was an honest mistake."

Mir looked uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have hit you like that. But you shouldn't be in my room unless I give you express permission. If you carry my bags for me, I'll think about it."

"What's with the bags anyway?" Athrun asked. Cagalli gave him her are-you-really-that-dense look.

"Didn't you know? Lacus and I managed to get us transport back down to Earth. We're all sick of these ships. We're leaving in about an hour. You should get packed."

"That's news to me too." Dearka piped in. "Where on Earth are we going? Back to Orb?"

Cagalli looked slightly upset. "No... not back to Orb. Orb is still in complete disorder right now. There's been some... complications with its political structure. We're going to Switzerland, in the Eurasian Federation." she replied. Athrun looked at her, noting her slight hesitancy when she talked about Orb's situation. He'd have to pry the details from her later, in private.

"Why Switzerland? I mean, wouldn't it be better to go somewhere where Natural-Coordinator tensions are less strained?" Dearka observed.

"Switzerland IS the best place to go, actually. It has a tradition of neutrality during wars. Even during the last war, they only provided medical services and supplies to the Earth Forces. It's also were several of the refugee camps are set up, so we'll be able to blend in with them. Besides, it's time we stopped trying to hide ourselves away from the problem. Coordinators and Naturals are going to have to learn to get along or the entire war and yours and Kira's sacrifices will be in vain." Cagalli replied.

"Hey, I only lost a mobile suit. Truth be told, I much prefer working on Coordinator-Natural relationships than I ever did my machine." Athrun said, smiling at Cagalli. She smiled back and his heart fluttered.

"Maybe that's because it's such rewarding work. For both sides." She replied, voice lowering. Dearka looked at them and then at Miriallia.

"Right then... why don't we leave you two here... in Ysak's room." he said, trying for sarcasm. Neither Athrun nor Cagalli noticed. Miriallia grabbed Dearka's arm and pulled him quickly out of the room, obviously just as embarrassed as he was.

"Those two are seriously hormone imbalanced." Dearka commented as soon as they were out in the hall with the door shut. "I caught them making out on the bridge during duty hours one time. Any time, any place seems to be good for them."

"I think it's sweet. That two people could care for each other so much. I think it's a good sign when Coordinators start falling in love with Naturals and vice versa." Miriallia replied with an arced eyebrow. "Don't you?"

"Umm... err... ahh...uh." Dearka gasped out, feeling like the breath had been driven out of him all over again. _This is nuts! I never had problems being witty around girls before! Now I'm making myself look like a total fool! When she looks at me like that I go weak in the knees and the head. It's a good thing Ysak's not around, he'd laugh himself sick._ "Yes. It's very... sweet." Dearka managed. _Boy, if the guys back at the training barracks heard me say that, I'd be ruined for sure._

"You're nice to say that, Dearka." Miriallia touching his cheek for a brief instant. _What am I doing? she shrieked at herself mentally. Tolle... I'm sorry. I almost betrayed your memory just now. But I can't help it! Dearka is so nice! He's not at all the insensitive jerk I thought he was. When he looks at me I feel just like I did when you held my hand or held me in your arms. And he's really cute. Gah! Stop it, Mir, or you're going to go out of control! C'mon, get your act together._ Dearka had stiffened like a tree at her touch and was just bringing his hand up to touch hers when she pulled away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Miriallia said in a small voice.

Dearka stared at her and touched his cheek where she had. "Please... Miriallia... just give me a chance." he whispered. Her eyes started to quiver and she looked away.

"I... I..." she began and sidled closer. Before the moment could get any further along there was an interruption.

"I think I'm going to vomit." Ysak commented. He was standing a few yards away up the hall, staring at them. "I'm sorry I threw that computer at you." Ysak volunteered. "I came back to tell you it was shallow of me."

_God damn it Ysak, the one time I wish you didn't apologize, you do._ Dearka thought darkly. The moment was ruined, Miriallia pulled away again and took a few steps back. _I could just shoot him right now._ Dearka thought, glaring at Ysak. Ysak folded his arms across his chest and glared back.

"I just heard that we're going to be taking a shuttle to Switzerland. We'll be staying there for the next few weeks or so. I came back to get packed." Ysak informed them, heading towards his room. Dearka suddenly remembered who was inside and what they were doing.

"Hey... Ysak... you shouldn't open that door." Dearka warned. Ysak glanced at him in surprise and annoyance.

"I'll open any damned door I please. Especially the one to my own room. Which I have to go inside, in order to pack. I didn't think your brain was THAT muddled, Dearka." Ysak said with a flick of his eyes towards Miriallia. He then stepped over to the door controls and, still smirking at Dearka, walked inside. Dearka covered his eyes with a hand. Miriallia covered her mouth with one hand in shock. By her intake of breath, Dearka could guess what she was looking at. "AAAHHHGGG!" Ysak screamed. "What the HELL do you two think you're doing in MY ROOM?" Dearka peeked between his fingers.

Cagalli and Athrun were lying on Ysak's bed, with Athrun's shirt part way unbuttoned and Cagalli lying on top of him, one hand frozen as it pulled a lock of Athrun's hair away from his face so she could get at his lips more easily. Athrun had one arm on Cagalli's back and the other on her ass. Both of them were as still as statues, looking at Ysak in pure shock. "GET OUT! GET OUT NOW! You've contaminated my bed sheets! You've soiled my eyes! I don't want to see either of you again for the rest of my life!" Ysak ranted, grabbing Cagalli's bag and heaving it out the door before storming over to his recently vacated bed and tearing the sheets off of it and throwing them into the corner.

"I'm... uh... ooops." Athrun stuttered. Ysak glared at him and advanced with fists clenched.

"OUT! Out, out, out, out, out! NOW!" Ysak practically hurled them out of his room physically before shutting the door and audibly locking it. Dearka could still hear Ysak raging through the door, slamming his feet into the floor and punching bulkheads with wild abandon.

"I told him not to open the door." Dearka made sure to point out. Athrun and Cagalli were both deep crimson red. Athrun hurriedly buttoned his shirt and picked up Cagalli's bag.

"We're going now. See you later." he rushed out before practically running away down the hall, Cagalli close on his heels. Dearka and Miriallia looked at each other before breaking up into fits of hysterical laughter.

"A... hah hah... good sign... heh hah... indeed!" Miriallia gasped out, holding her stomach is if it were fit to burst.

-----------------------------------------------

"Kira... could you carry my bag for me?" Lacus asked shyly. She and Kira were standing inside her room on the Eternal, which she had just finished cleaning out of all her stuff.

"Sure Lacus." Kira said with a brief smile. He sauntered over to the bag and tried to tug it off the floor. "Urgh. Whats in this thing? Bowling balls?" he complained.

"Just a few personal items. Some clothes, accessories and mementos. The usual stuff I bring with me when I travel. Why?" Lacus replied coyly. Kira looked at her and smiled again.

"Few? Some? This bag doesn't feel like it has few or some in it. More like many and lots." Kira teased. Lacus blushed.

"It's not too heavy is it?" she asked worriedly. Kira continued smiling and pulled the bag off the ground and onto his shoulder with a convulsive heave.

"Nah. I got it. Though I hope they have a dolly for it when we get back to gravity."

"Are you saying I'm a bulky packer?" Lacus asked back, enjoying herself.

"Not compared to Cagalli you aren't." Athrun said as he swung around the doorway into the room. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard. Lacus floated over to Kira and placed her hand on his arm. He smiled at her again and clasped her hand in his. Cagalli entered the room a moment later. She too was flushed and breathing hard.

"You look like you two just ran a marathon." Kira observed. Cagalli and Athrun looked at each other and shared a shy smile.

"It felt like that at times." Cagalli hedged. Lacus covered her mouth and giggled. Lacus had a pretty good idea of what Athrun and Cagalli were flushed about. Kira looked at her and then at Athrun and Cagalli.

"I'm missing something here. What's the joke?" Kira asked. The other three people stared at him.

"Have you really not noticed?" Lacus asked, dead serious.

"Noticed what?"

"Kira... you've been up here for two months since the last battle and you don't know? How could you not?" Lacus protested.

"Know what?" Kira asked, confused. Lacus sighed and looked at Cagalli and Athrun for help.

"He's your little brother. You explain."

"I think it's better demonstrated than explained." Athrun said boldly. He put his hand on Cagalli's shoulder and gently turned her so they were facing each other. He slowly bent forward and kissed her full on the lips. Cagalli put her arms around him and pulled him closer, giving a small sound of delight when they stopped for breath. Lacus watched Kira's eyes nearly fall out of his head.

"Do you understand now?" Lacus asked with a grin that for her was quite wicked.

"When? What? How?" Kira swayed and nearly fell over. Lacus had to use both arms to support him.

"You asked me to protect her during the battle. She and I promised to do the same for each other before the battle even started. I'm just protecting her in the best way I know how." Athrun commented, taking a short break. Cagalli smiled at her little brother.

"And I'm protecting him too. He's really more fragile than you'd think. See!" Cagalli pinched Athrun's stomach and caused him to jump backwards in surprise. Kira just stood with his mouth open. "Now don't you go into overprotective brother mode. I can handle myself. And him too. Well, goodbye. See you at the shuttle!" Cagalli said cheerily, as Athrun hoisted her bag onto his back with a grunt. In moments they had disappeared.

"Kira?" Lacus said quietly as she stood with her arms around him holding him up. Kira closed his mouth and whetted his throat.

"How did I not notice? It all seems so clear to me now." he asked, plaintively. "I was wondering why I was seeing so little of Athrun and Cagalli."

"You aren't unhappy, are you?" Lacus asked. Kira shook his head.

"I don't think I could be more pleased. I just hope Cagalli doesn't tear Athrun apart. She's a wild fire." Kira said with a laugh. Lacus joined him. When they quieted, she noticed Kira hadn't pulled away. She looked up and found him looking down at her.

"Kira?"

"I was wrong. I could be more pleased. I just realized how stupid I've been."

"Kira?"

Kira slipped his arms around Lacus and turned to face her. "Are you sure you're ready, Kira?" Lacus asked in a hopeful tone. "You're not going to freak out and get all gloomy on me?"

Kira looked at her and leaned closer. "I can't promise that. Though I will promise to try. But I'll... I'll need your help Lacus. I'm just not strong enough by myself." he whispered. Lacus decided to accept that for now.

"We'll have to work on your self confidence. I believe I know the first lesson." she told him, standing up on tiptoe so their lips met. As things turned out, they were nearly late for the shuttle.


	5. The Fearsome Twins

"Hey, look at that! There's a shuttle coming down the gravity well!" Chanel said, pointing with her free hand at the glowing streak of light headed towards the Bern International Airport.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You seen Raine's flight number yet?" her twin sister Katie said, ogling a few passing guys as they did likewise in return. The two sisters each had a large gift tucked under their left arms. Chanel's gift was red with a blue ribbon and Katie's was blue with a red ribbon. The girls themselves were a study in matching disparity. Both were tall and thin, but not emaciated. They both shared wide cerulean blue eyes that looked like sparkling sapphires in the noonday sun. However Chanel had blond hair with black highlights and was wearing a pale blue skirt and yellow polo shirt, while Katie had black hair with blond highlights and wore a yellow skirt and blue polo shirt. Katie also sported a pair of rimless sunglasses with blue lenses that were currently pushed up onto her head.

"They are coming back on Alkire's jet, remember? They'll be at the private section of the airport. It's this way." Chanel said, forging off through the crowds determinedly. Katie followed her closely.

"Alkire? You mean Robert. I don't know why he uses that ridiculous name. Its so phony it hurts." Katie commented.

"It's because he's afraid of being identified. You should be glad he's not around right now or he'd reprimand you right good for using his real name."

"He makes paranoids look sane. I don't know why Raine hangs out with him." Katie continued grumbling. Well, she actually did know why, Katie reminded herself. It was because Raine believed what Robert... Alkire... was doing was for the good of the world. Katie tried not to think about it too much though. Otherwise she'd be constantly worried about her older sister Raine.

"Oh look, the shuttle is coming to the private terminal too!" Chanel said excitedly. Katie groaned.

"Alkire's gonna freak! He'll be suspicious as all hell for the rest of the day!" Katie predicted. As it turned out, both Alkire's jet and the space shuttle arrived at the same time. Chanel and Katie ran out onto the tarmac to greet their bigger sister and her friends. The shuttle started unloading its passengers only a few yards away. First out of Alkire's jet was Victor Klien, who hated flying. He never got sick, he just hated flying. He was carrying a large wooden case in one hand, which Chanel and Katie both knew from experience contained his saber and demolitions kit. Next came James Ramsgoth, toting a large duffel filled with his disassembled heavy machine gun and twin machine pistols. Chanel looked expectantly at the door of the aircraft. Raine was usually next off the plane. Chanel looked around quickly to see where Katie was. Much to her surprise, her twin was staring at the people getting off the space shuttle.

"Look at that guy's scar! That's so cool! He's so pretty too!" Katie was exclaiming dreamily. She was looking at a guy with two large canvas bags hanging from his fists who was standing at the bottom of the shuttle's stairs. The young man was about their age and was dressed in black slacks and a grey long sleeved shirt. He had brilliant blue eyes and pale white hair that seemed to shine like silver. A massive brownish scar divided his face from just over his left eye to almost to the bottom of his right cheek. The scarred boy scowled back up the shuttle's stairs.

"My... isn't he pretty. Though that scar is very unusual." Raine's intelligent voice said from behind Chanel as she put her hand on her little sister's shoulder. Chanel flushed slightly. She couldn't believe she had missed seeing Raine because she was ogling some guy! She wasn't like Katie in that regard, not at all. No, she was very picky about her guys. In fact, she was so picky she had never gone on a date or even held a guy's hand.

"How was your trip, Raine?" Chanel asked, struggling not to flush with contrition. She didn't get to see her older sister very often because Raine was always "traveling on business".

"The meeting was successful." Raine said with a twinkle in her eye. Chanel felt a rush of relief. Raine wouldn't ever say anything more than that about her trips, but if a trip was successful that meant everyone was all right and unharmed. Behind Raine Alkire jumped to the ground.

"Hey girls! You're looking beautiful as ever!" Alkire said cheerfully. "Wait... who're we looking at?" Katie noticed that others were around just then and pointed. By this time the scarred boy had been joined by several other youths, divided between four boys and three girls. They were all talking excitedly amongst themselves, except for the scarred boy who stood a little apart and just scowled constantly. As Alkire watched, a large and heavily built man with long black hair exited the shuttle. Alkire blinked. "Hey... isn't that Instructor Kisaka?" Alkire asked. Victor and James swung about and Raine studied the man intently.

"It is!" Raine said, sounding very surprised. "But what uniform is he wearing? It's not Earth Forces."

"Orb." Vladimir's melancholy voice echoed down from inside the aircraft. He still hadn't come out, but that was what he was like.

"You know him?" Chanel asked Alkire and Raine.

"Of course I know him. He was an instructor back at... school... a few years ago. He taught me most of what I know." Alkire responded. Chanel and Katie exchanged glances. When Alkire talked about school, he meant Commando training. "HEY KISAKA!" Alkire shouted and waved his arm wildly. Kisaka spun around, obviously startled. He stared at Alkire from a distance of about fifty feet, obviously trying to place him. "It's me... Robert Jones! Remember? You taught a class a couple years back before the war. I was your worst student!"

The look of recognition on Kisaka's face was just priceless, as far as Raine and the others were concerned. Even Vlad managed a chuckle. "Bet he's freaking out now." James whispered.

"Why?" Katie asked.

"Because we ran him almost to his wits end last time we met. He vowed that he would sooner have a heart attack than teach another class with us in it again." Victor explained.

"Well, let's go over and catch up. I wonder what the hell Kisaka is doing in Switzerland?" Alkire said, beginning to head in that direction.

"I'll be with you in a minute." Vlad replied as everyone else followed Alkire over. Chanel and Katie exchanged whispers and blushes as the scarred boy glanced at them.

-------------------------------------

"Who are those people? They seem to know you, Kisaka." Cagalli asked as she watched the group of six approach. It felt so good to be back on Earth again! Fresh air! Open space! Sunlight! She almost did a little dance of joy right then and there. Athrun stood next to her, resting her bag and his on the ground while he recuperated from toting them down the stairs. Kira and Lacus stood nearby, arm in arm, while Dearka and Miriallia leaned against the base of the shuttle stairs and enjoyed the feeling of having personal space again. Sai was talking with them. Ysak of course, stood by himself and glowered at anything and everything. But especially at Athrun and her.

"They're... students of mine. Former students. From back when I taught guerilla warfare classes before the war. What the hell are they doing in Switzerland? I thought this would be one place where no one would recognize us, and now we haven't even left the airport and we've been recognized." Kisaka mumbled irritably.

The approaching strangers came to a stop a few feet away. The four adults marched forward in perfect lockstep after letting their bags carefully down to the ground. They gave four perfect salutes. "Major Robert Jones reporting, Sir!" the man with brown and black speckled hair said. "Captain Victor Klien reporting, Sir!" the thin man with Germanic features and blond hair said. "Captain James Ramsgoth reporting, Sir!" said the third man of the group, who was shaved bald with the tattoo of two rams horns on his shaven pate. "Major Raine Belaruse reporting, Sir!" said the sole woman who had her long brown hair done up in a practical bun. Kisaka just looked at them in disgust.

"I remember saying that I never wanted to see any of you ever again. That was shortly after the scorpion incident, if I remember right." Kisaka said coldly.

"Oh, don't be like that, Instructor. The stuff you taught us helped us a hell of a lot during the war. I just wanted to thank you." Robert said, mimicking a hurt expression. Kisaka just glared at him.

"So what are you doing here anyways, Kisaka? These aren't YOUR kids are they?" Raine said impishly. Cagalli bristled.

"What? No, we aren't his kids!" she shouted. Kisaka gestured for her to be quiet, but she only subsided when Athrun put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah. I guess not. You're not well behaved enough to be Kisaka's kids." James commented. Athrun believed he could see steam rising from Cagalli's head.

"I'm escorting this group of refugees. I'm helping them get settled here in Switzerland so they can start trying to rebuild their lives." Kisaka replied in a measured voice, sticking with their cover story. It wasn't really that hard for them to go unnoticed. Except for Lacus, none of them were famous enough to have been seen on television outside of their Mobile Suits and Lacus was mainly watched by Coordinators.

"War orphans?" Victor asked, noting the uniformly young ages of the refugees. Kisaka nodded. It was true enough, at least in Athrun's, Cagalli's and Lacus's cases. Also for Dearka, who hadn't been in contact with his parents for more than a year but found nothing odd in that, since that was normal for him. Everyone else still had parents, and would either be dispersed back to their homes in a few weeks or would be staying together.

"Man, I heard about Orb. I couldn't believe that the Atlantic Federation attacked it like that. Seeing you in that Colonel's uniform explains to me why they had such a hard time." Robert said. Kisaka was about to reply when he caught sight of Vladimir slowly making his way towards them.

"What the hell is HE doing here?" Kisaka hissed angrily. Robert looked at Vladimir and then back at Kisaka.

"Vlad's changed, Kisaka. He's not the way he used to be anymore." Robert whispered. Vladimir halted about fifteen feet away.

"Captain Vladimir Valkavich reporting, Sir!" he said, sharply saluting at the same time. Athrun noticed an odd noise when Vlad moved his arm. He glanced around. Every Coordinator there had heard the same and was looking around to see if the others had heard it.

"If you take one step closer Vlad, I'll have to kill you." Kisaka said grimly, his hand on his sidearm. Cagalli looked at him in shock. This wasn't the Kisaka she knew.

"I know that sir. That's why I stopped here." Vlad replied and hesitated. "I'm very sorry, Kisaka."

"Sorry doesn't bring them back, Vlad." Kisaka said flatly. Vlad bowed his head forward so his dusty black hair fell over his eyes.

"I know. Nothing can bring them back. But I am sorry." Vlad said again. Before the tension could rise again, there came another interruption.

"Get away from me!" Ysak yelled. As one, every person there turned to see what was going on. Ysak was inching his way backwards as Katie and Chanel inched closer, trying to get a better look at his face and scar. Ysak brought up his hand to ward them off, but Katie merely caught it and pulled it up so she could study it closely. "Dearka! Help me!" Ysak pleaded. Dearka just shook his head and laughed. The mighty Ysak, being manhandled by two 16 year old girls and crying out for help from his friends. Dearka might have helped him out. Before Ysak had made all those derogatory comments about his relationship with Miriallia that is. Now... well, now Ysak could deal with his own problems.

"He only has the one scar. Ohh." Katie complained, releasing Ysak's hand.

"Maybe he has other's hidden under his shirt." Chanel said determinedly. "Besides, the one on his face is intriguing enough. I wonder how he got it." Ysak glared at both of them, but neither seemed to mind.

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!" Ysak shouted, backing up some more. "Why are you so interested in my scar anyway?"

"We think scars are very manly. Yours is the biggest one I've ever seen. You must be really tough to have gotten a scar like that and lived through it." Katie answered.

"Besides, you have such wonderfully pretty eyes and hair. What's your name, beautiful?" Chanel finished the thought. Ysak started turning red and sputtering, though whether from anger or humiliation Dearka couldn't tell.

"Girls, stop bothering the poor guy. I'm sure he'll tell you his name if you give him some space." Raine admonished. Katie and Chanel looked guilty and backed up a few paces.

"Sorry, Raine." they chorused and then looked at Ysak expectantly. He glared at them, and when that didn't work, he glared at Dearka.

"I'm Ysak Joule." he gritted out. The girls looked at each other and smiled.

"Even his name is cool." Chanel breathed.

"I think I like him." Katie replied. Chanel paused a long moment.

"Me too." They looked at each other and shared a giggle. Ysak looked both enraged and slightly frightened. He squared his shoulders and marched over to Dearka and Miriallia, making sure to stand behind them so as to put others between him and his tormentors.

"Who's whipped now?" Dearka mumbled out of the side of his mouth.

"Shut up. My glares weren't working. They have no sense of fear." Ysak muttered.

"Weeelll, I think that's enough catching up for now. We'll see you around, Kisaka." Robert said, about facing. Kisaka glared at him again.

"What are you guys doing in Switzerland?" he asked. Robert chuckled.

"That's easy, sir. We live here." Robert said nonchalantly. "See you around, not-Kisaka's kids! School's just about to start, so you'd better get settled in." with those words he walked off. Slowly the rest of the TEMPEST soldiers and Chanel and Katie followed him, though Chanel and Katie kept looking over their shoulders at Ysak and throwing him cheery waves whenever he looked at them.

"School?" Sai asked, incredulous. Kisaka looked at him as he relaxed in direct proportion to the distance between him and his former students.

"Yes, school. You'd all stick out like sore thumbs if you didn't go to school. You don't necessarily have to do well, but you do have to go and put forth a modicum of effort." Kisaka informed them. Kira and Athrun shrugged. They'd never minded school. In fact they actually enjoyed it. Lacus was interested, since she'd been home schooled her entire life. She wondered what high school would be like. Miriallia and Dearka shared groans of disappointment that bespoke true dread of high school. Sai just nodded and smiled, since he'd not be here long anyway before going back to his parents. Cagalli just looked frustrated while Ysak looked relieved. Of course, that was mainly because those two witches had left, but he didn't mind learning for learning's sake anyway."Who WERE those people, Kisaka?" Cagalli asked suddenly. Kisaka frowned.

"Former students of mine, princess. We didn't get along." he replied shortly.

"I could tell that. But what about the Vladimir guy? That was a little more than didn't get along. You were really going to shoot him, weren't you?" Cagalli pressed. Kisaka turned away.

"It's time to get moving. I have to get back to Orb before nightfall, so lets hurry along." he said, heading towards the terminal parking lot. Cagalli frowned mightily.

"Ooooh! I hate it when adults try and keep things from me!" she declared.

"Ever think it might NOT be any of your business?" Ysak scoffed. Cagalli whirled.

"That's enough out of you, fraidy-cat!" she snarled.

"WHAT? What did you just call me?" Ysak took several steps forward, fists clenched. Athrun jumped between them.

"Whoa, whoa! Everyone calm down. We're all friends here... well, at least we're all not enemies. There's no sense in fighting amongst ourselves. Lets stop now before somebody says something regrettable." Athrun said. It took him until Kisaka showed up with the van to calm Cagalli and Ysak down. As things were, Ysak climbed into the back of the van with the bags and grumbled for the entire trip to the housing complex, with Cagalli shooting him dagger like glances every few minutes.

----------------------------------------

Each housing complex was separated into a girl's side and a guy's side by a long hallway. The particular one that Kisaka had secured for them was two stories tall and vacant. The lower floor of each side was devoted to kitchen, study and relaxation areas, while the upstairs were bedrooms and bathrooms. The girls and guys split up to secure their living quarters. Since there were only three girls, they had no trouble splitting the rooms. Each girl got one bedroom and therefore one bunk bed, all to herself. For guy's it wasn't so easy. Kira and Athrun initially intended to bunk together, until Dearka pointed out the potential embarrassment of having Kira in the room while Athrun entertained Cagalli and the same for Athrun with Kira and Lacus. Ysak had been quick to claim the single room for himself and no one felt like arguing with him in his current mood. The rooms ended up being Athrun and Sai bunking together, and then Kira and Dearka bunking together.

Once everyone was settled in, Dearka picked up his battered leather jacket and walked out into the common room downstairs. "I'm going out to see what the town is like. Anyone coming with me?" he announced. Athrun and Kira immediately joined him, while Sai informed everyone that he was going to sleep. Ysak just glared at all of them and mumbled something about being tired. "He's just waiting for us to leave so he can call mommy." Dearka stage whispered and only barely avoided a thrown pot lid. The three Coordinators hustled out the door, chuckling amongst themselves.

"Why do you provoke him like that?" Kira asked, after they had calmed down.

"Because he makes it easy. He's SOOO sensitive about things." Dearka replied instantly. "Besides, I want him to loosen up and this is my way of doing it. Eventually his anger will collapse in on itself like a black hole and he'll be cheerful. That's my theory anyway." Dearka continued after a bit of thought. "Now, what say you we make this a triple date?"

"Oh, so now you and Mir are dating?" Kira asked slyly. Dearka froze.

"Right. Don't tell her I said that. How about we make it a double date plus two?" Dearka corrected. Kira looked at him in concern.

"You don't have to be so scared of Mir, Dearka. She's a really nice and gentle person. I'm sure she'd go out with you if you asked her." Kira said. Dearka looked back at him and laughed nervously.

"Heh hah... no. You don't understand. I first met her back when everyone thought you and Athrun were dead. I wondered aloud about why she was crying so much and asked her if it was because her stupid Natural boyfriend had just gone and died or something." Dearka paused. "Well, turns out her Natural boyfriend HAD just died. His name was Tolle and he died piloting a Skygrasper, those plane things you guys had then. Man, I wish I could unsay those words more than anything." Dearka said quietly.

"Hey, I'm surprised she can stand to be around me at all." Athrun replied. "I was the one that killed Tolle after all."

"Well, you just better hope she never comes across you chained to a bed then." Dearka said mirthlessly.

"Huh?" Kira asked. Athrun looked confused too.

"That really nice and gentle person tried to stab me to death with a scalpel when I said what I shouldn't have. I was chained to a bed at the time." Dearka explained.

"Hey... we all have our private psychoses. Let's not dwell on that now. I still think you should just ask her." Kira said after a few moments.

"What... you're giving Dearka romantic advice now? You, who didn't even know I was going out with your sister for two whole months while confined to the same ship as us. That's rich." Athrun snorted. Kira blushed.

"Oh, you don't know the WORST of it!" Dearka pounced on the topic, desperate to get out of the uncomfortable spot. "I can't tell you how many times I've seen them get to first base. Hell, I've seen them get all the way to second base once or twice." Dearka said to Kira. "Hot damn they go at it like nothing else!" Kira kept turning darker and darker red, as did Athrun. "I mean... there was this one time, just before we left. The scene: Ysak's room. The characters: Cagalli Yula Attha and Athrun Zala. The action: ...Well, his shirt was off and both had bad cases of roaming hands... urk!" Dearka stopped his narration when Cagalli beaned him from behind with a well thrown hairbrush.

"I thought I heard a loser out here. What are you three doing?" Cagalli said, stepping out into the hall. Athrun felt his throat go dry and his eyes go wide. Cagalli was wearing an orange halter top that stopped well short of her midriff and devilishly short red exercise shorts. She wore pink sandals on her feet and a replica of the necklace she had given Athrun around her throat. Her hair was still slightly wet and disheveled, she obviously hadn't finished combing it.

"Ca... Ca... Cag... Cagalli!" Athrun exclaimed. Kira closed his eyes and shook his head, still dealing with Dearka's story.

"What, you don't like my outfit?" she asked, her voice going dangerous.

"No... No. I LOVE your outfit. I mean... WOW." Athrun said breathlessly. Cagalli smiled at him.

"You're so sweet. Now give me my brush back so I can finish getting ready so you can take me out on the town." Cagalli ordered. Athrun hastened to obey. "Good. No you three boys wait here in the hall. We shouldn't be more than five minutes." Cagalli instructed. With that she disappeared back inside the girl's side of the living complex and closed the door.

"HOT DAMN!" Dearka commented. Athrun couldn't do much more than nod in dazed agreement. Kira looked anxiously at the door.

"I wonder what possessed her to dress like that? She never did so before." Kira asked. Dearka slapped him on the shoulder.

"Dude, she was always in military uniform when you were around. Mainly because you guys were nearly constantly fighting. Now the war's over, at least for a while and we're seeing what she's like the rest of the time. Or rather, we're seeing her like she is when she's madly in love with someone." Dearka explained.

"Are the other girls going to be that way too?" Kira wondered. Dearka seriously considered that.

"I hope so. What about you?" Dearka said. Kira looked thoughtful for a long moment before finally blushing a bit and nodding his head. Athrun smiled. It was so good to see Kira not being weighed down by his guilt and instead acting like Athrun remembered him as before the war.

It actually turned out that the girls exceeded their guys's expectations. When Cagalli came back out she had stuck a large golden flower ornament into her hair and was wearing an open faced pure white leather jacket that reached to her knees. "Aren't these ornaments nice? Lacus loaned them to me from her extensive collection." Cagalli commented, noting Athrun's stare. Lacus was next out the door. Her outfit was almost an exact mirror of Cagalli's, except with pink halter, purple shorts, blue sandals and the white leather coat. Her hair was unadorned and flowing loose.

"Oh no. I feel so exposed. Are you sure this is legal attire?" Lacus exclaimed shyly. Athrun and Dearka snuck glances at Kira, who was staring at Lacus as if she had turned to solid gold or something.

"Legal? Of course it's legal. You're covered, aren't you?" Cagalli responded.

"Yes. But I've never worn anything like this before. It's so... racy." Lacus replied doubtfully. Cagalli rolled her eyes.

"Kira likes it, don't you, Kira?" Cagalli said sweetly, but with her fist visibly clenched. Kira noted that before replying.

"Of course! It's wonderful! You look great!" Kira managed. Lacus beamed and took his hand, making room in the door for Miriallia.

"I'm wonder what the weather is going to be like tonight?" Dearka muttered so that only Kira and Athrun could hear him.

"Why?" Athrun whispered.

"Because if it's cold I can think of at least two lucky guys who are going to be called on to help warm them up." Dearka replied, logic impeccable. Before he could get much further along that train of thought, Miriallia stepped forth. Unlike the other two girls, who were a study in light pastels, Miriallia wore a knee length dark green skirt with a crimson blouse, black dress shoes and an ankle length black leather trenchcoat. A pale blue rose was nestled in her cinnamon colored hair.

"I thought we were wearing matching outfits?" Cagalli protested. Miriallia looked at her with frank amusement.

"No, I never agreed to that. You merely assumed I did because I had three white coats and I loaned two of them to you and Lacus. I'm not comfortable wearing outfits like those. Not yet." Miriallia replied smugly with a glance towards Dearka.

"I knew it. Their outfits are hints to how they view their relationships to us." Dearka groaned. "You two get all the flesh and for me she's wearing more clothes than normal. Does God hate me or something?" he whispered in explanation.

"Stop whispering, Dearka. If you have something to say, I'm sure we'd all like to hear it." Miriallia demanded.

"Ummm..." Dearka hedged.

"It was complimentary... right?" Miriallia prodded.

"He was just saying about how lucky he was that he'd have such an attractive date." Athrun supplied. Dearka coughed and turned red.

"Well, I'm not dating him. Yet. Maybe if tonight goes well, I'll consider it." Miriallia replied. Dearka alternatively folded in on himself in despair and brightened with a ray of hope. Reaching deep within himself for a strength he never knew he had, Dearka smiled and offered his arm to Miriallia.

"Shall we go then?" he asked.

---------------------------------------------

Ysak couldn't get the goddamned phone to work. This living complex didn't have a video telecommunications system like most of the ships he had been on recently, but it did have a hard line phone. However, every time Ysak tried to dial his mother on the PLANTS he got disconnected just as the call rang through. After the seventh try Ysak threw the phone across the room in a fit of pique. "Damn this country to hell!" Ysak proclaimed and sat down on the couch. He lay there for a few minutes before becoming restless. There was nothing to DO here. No books, no computers, no working phones... nothing. He didn't really feel like talking, especially since the only person to talk to was Sai, and while he seemed to be an okay guy, Ysak hardly knew him at all... and Sai was asleep anyway.

"I should have gone with Dearka and the others." Ysak admitted, since it was a safe bet no one could hear him do so. There wasn't even a TV yet. All there was to do was lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling. An activity which grew unendurable after about fifty seconds. Suddenly someone knocked on the door to the boy's suite. Ysak sat up quickly. _Who the hell could that be? The girls left with Dearka and the others, for which I am profoundly grateful._ Something made Ysak wary and he quickly ran upstairs and retrieved his combat knife from its secret pocket in his bag. After hurrying downstairs again Ysak waited. Nothing happened. Then, just as he was about to sit down again, someone knocked again.

Ysak slid over to the door soundlessly. He tried to peer through the peephole, but couldn't make out anything. Holding his knife ready behind his back he opened the door with a lightning fast twist of his hand and stepped back a pace, glaring at whoever might have been out there. Upon seeing who was actually out there, Ysak nearly dropped his knife.

"Hello Ysak. How are you tonight?" Katie said cheerily as she forged her way into the room. Chanel poured in behind her, shutting the door as she did so.

"Stay away from me." Ysak ordered, showing them his knife as he slowly backed away.

"We didn't catch him in the shower." Katie pouted. Chanel shrugged.

"Sorry. Guess my calculations were off. Least he's here." she replied.

"What's the matter with you two? You talk about me like I'm not here and confess to planning to walk in on me while I'm showering. Are you insane?" Ysak protested, bumping up against the wall and side stepping away from them.

"No. Just lonely." Chanel replied, giving him a sad eyed look.

"You'll have to excuse our manner of speech. The only ones we ever usually get to talk to are ourselves. After a few years of that other people don't seem so real. We don't mean to talk about you as if you're not there; it's just a hard to shake habit." Katie elaborated.

"Sure... whatever. That explains one thing. Now what about planning to walk in on me in the shower?" Ysak demanded.

"We really want to see your scars." Chanel said.

"Besides, you're really pretty, don't you know? I like looking at pretty guys." Katie added.

"It's a compliment." Chanel said, sitting down on the sofa.

"Don't you like compliments from pretty girls?" Katie asked, sitting down on the other side of the couch, leaving a person sized space between them.

"You think we're pretty right?" Chanel asked.

"Please say you do. It's been so long since a guy said I was pretty." Katie said with a hint of depression.

"I... I... What's the matter with you two? I'm holding a knife pointed at you and you act like its nothing!" Ysak cried, getting confused by their alternating comments and questions. The two girls looked at each other and laughed. Ysak caught himself thinking that they had very beautiful laughs. _Stop it, Ysak. You WILL NOT fall for Naturals._ Ysak warned himself sternly.

"You won't hurt us with that knife." Chanel asserted.

"You don't like hurting girls, I think." Katie added.

"Besides, if you used that knife on us..." Chanel began.

"... Uncle Vladimir would find out and crush your skull." Katie finished calmly.

"He's sitting outside right now, probably getting worried about us." Chanel informed Ysak.

"If we don't give him the all clear soon he'll come in here and tear you limb from limb." Katie said sweetly.

"We aren't stupid. We always take precautions." Chanel leaned back and slitted her eyes.

"Especially when dealing with a Coordinator. Even a cute one." Katie mimicked the pose and added a little giggle. Ysak stared at them in amazed discomfort.

"How did you know I was a Coordinator? Just one of you please, it makes my head spin when you both talk." Ysak asked, lowering his knife slightly. The girls looked at each other and Katie clicked her teeth together.

"Uncle Vladimir told us. He recognized your friend with the green eyes and purplish hair, as well as the girl with pink hair. Uncle Vladimir knows how to spot a Coordinator vs a Natural. He say's it's something he learned during the bad time of his life." Chanel replied. "Of course, you weren't hard to figure out either. There's very little chance of a person your age having such luxurious pale hair." she added after a few seconds.

"Unless you were an albino... but you don't have red eyes and you didn't mind the sun, so that can't be it." Katie threw in and then clapped her hands to her mouth. "Sorry." she mumbled. Ysak looked at the two of them for a few moments before disgustingly slamming the knife down point first into a cutting board. As if cued, Chanel took out a cell phone and pressed a button.

"It's okay, Uncle Vladimir. He's not going to hurt us. Uh huh... see you later." she said softly. She looked at Ysak and smiled. "Uncle Vladimir wanted me to tell you that if you harm even a single hair on our heads, he'll tear your heart out and eat it while you watch."

"Your uncle is a disturbed person." Ysak declared.

"He's just overprotective. He's like this with every guy we meet. It's one of the reasons we haven't ever gone on a real date. Every guy gets scared off after the first meeting or so. You're very brave, Ysak Jule. I like you more and more the more I know about you." Katie replied.

"Why don't you sit with us so we can get to know each other better?" Chanel asked. Ysak was instantly on guard again.

"I'm not sitting between you two. It's just not going to happen." Ysak informed them. Chanel pouted.

"Fine. Maybe this will suit you better." she told him, standing up. Katie slid over to the middle of the couch and Chanel sat down beside her. Chanel swung her legs up and over the armrest of the couch and lay with her head in Katie's lap. "Now you won't be sitting between us. Happy?" she asked. Ysak glowered at them.

"Not really. But arguing with you feels pointless." Ysak rounded the couch and sat down, trying to sit as far away from them as he could. It didn't work. Almost immediately they scooted over so that Chanel's head was suddenly in HIS lap and Katie's arm was intertwined with his.

"FUCK! What do you think you're doing?" Ysak yelled, trying to stand up. It didn't work. In his current position, he lacked the leverage to push the two girls off him, Coordinator enhancements or no Coordinator enhancements.

"You're the one that said we shouldn't sit on either side of you. This was the next alternative down the line." Katie reminded him.

"I thought you were going to go sit in the chair across from me or something." Ysak replied, still trying to escape.

"That wouldn't be very fair." Chanel told him.

"Yeah. Fair and share alike is what we do." Katie continued.

"If one of us gets to sit next to you, the other one has to as well. Otherwise one of us'd get jealous. Jealousy starts fights. We don't want to fight any more. Especially now that the war might actually be over." Chanel explained.

"You don't make any sense. Now get off me!" Ysak said desperately.

"Struggling isn't going to help you. Though it does feel really nice." Chanel said wickedly. Ysak froze as still as a dead man.

"You shouldn't have said anything. You always blab and ruin the fun." Katie admonished.

"I'm sorry."

"What will it take to get you two off me?" Ysak asked, trying to think of a plan. If he could compromise with them, hopefully he wouldn't still be compromised when Dearka got back. If Dearka saw him like this, he'd never hear the end of it.

"We want to see your scars. All of the ones on your upper body anyway." Chanel said instantly.

"The ones on your lower body can wait till another time." Katie added dreamily.

"So you want to see my scars. Then you'll get off me, right?" Ysak asked hopefully, ignoring Katie. So far so good.

"You have to say you think we're both pretty. And you have to mean it." Chanel decided.

"And you have to tell us about yourself. You could have only gotten that facial scar in the war. Tell us about your experiences. I love stories." Katie added.

"And you have to promise on whatever you hold most sacred that you'll give us each a good bye kiss when we leave." Chanel added again. Katie nodded her complete agreement. Ysak started to sweat. He thought about it. Scars, stories, compliments and two kisses. Compared to Dearka howling with laughter and ribbing him about this night for the next three years. It didn't take too long.

"Done deal. I'll show you the scars on my upper body, pay you compliments, tell you a few stories about my life and I swear on my Mother's council seat that I'll kiss you both goodbye. Now get off me." Ysak said.

"No, no, no. We'll get off you when we leave. Until then we stay right where we are, as a guarantee of your cooperation. A boy tried to cheat us like that once. We had to complain to Uncle Vladimir. I hear the boy regained the use of his legs after a few years of reconstruction surgery and physical therapy." Katie replied. Ysak thought about it some more.

"Fine." he said at last. He reached for the top button of his shirt, prepared to go through with the deal. A man's word was sometimes all he had. Even if he knew he would hate every moment of this night.


	6. Schoolday

Much later that night Dearka staggered up the walkway to the housing complex. He held a disposable camera in one hand and Miriallia's blue flower hair adornment in the other. A livid hand shaped bruise glowed on one cheek while his lips still stung with the force of Mir's last kiss. Behind him, Kira and Athrun inched their way along with hands raised to ward off any unseen obstacles. Both were blind drunk... though not on alcohol. After getting lost and stumbling into a euro-techno dance club, Miriallia and Dearka had gotten separated from the other couples. After catching up with them four hours later, Dearka noted how both Athrun and Kira had sorta dreamy and laid back looks on their faces, while Lacus and Cagalli couldn't stop looking at each other and the boys then laughing. Dearka himself had later acquired that same look when Miriallia had brought him to a dimly lit dancing club. Dearka hadn't been able to make out much in the darkness, but from some half seen glimpses of the other couples he had started to wonder if he hadn't walked into a free form porno studio.

It was at the dimly lit club that Dearka had acquired the handprint. He had been decidedly too fresh after observing the other couples and Mir had slapped him down for it, quite literally. It was later, when he bought her a bouquet of pale white roses and a box of Swiss chocolates that she had kissed him. He'd immediately bought the camera and managed to get most of the next hour on film. There were pictures of Kira and Athrun tripping and falling down some stairs when Cagalli's halter accidentally came off... though no picture of Cagalli. Other pictures included standing at the top of a gothic cathedral and throwing paper airplanes with wishes written on them off into the night, walking arm in arm in arm in arm, six abreast, through crowded midnight markets and bustling restaurants, rolling down a grassy hill side by side and Dearka with root beer foaming out of his nose because of being tickled by Miriallia. However, he still had a good ten pictures left. He wondered what he would use them for. It was really hard to get a picture of Mir and him kissing, since he generally forgot how to do something as simple as breathe at those times, much less take pictures.

The girls had split up with the guys a few minutes before, having been corralled by a high class jewelry store a few blocks away. Dead tired, Athrun, Kira and Dearka had kept going, anxious for some sleep, especially since school was starting... Dearka checked his watch... four hours from now. Dearka fumbled with the much too small key and opened the hallway door. Kira and Athrun crowded up behind him as he opened the door to their common room on his first try... a feat for which he was justly proud. Dearka stepped in and noted that the lights were still on. The instant after that the entire scene exploded into his mind.

Ysak was sitting on the couch, sans shirt. One of the two girls from earlier this morning had her head in his lap. The other had his arm around her while she played with his hair. Ysak was just saying "... Yes, I truly believe you are both the two most beautiful girls in the world." Ysak looked up. He saw Dearka. Dearka saw him. Athrun and Kira saw him. Nobody moved. A wide, wide, oh how so wide grin spread across Dearka's face. He brought the camera up and started taking pictures as fast as he could wind the camera.

"AAGGH!" Ysak screamed. Both girls started up so suddenly that they lost their balance and fell off the couch. Ysak shot to his feet and headed around the couch at Dearka. "Gimme that camera." he demanded. Dearka looked at him and then at the camera. Without more thought than that he tossed the camera to Kira.

"Run far, run fast. Get those developed ASAP." Dearka recommended. Kira looked doubtful but when Athrun added his endorsement he left at a quick walking pace. Ysak tried to follow him but Dearka caught him at the threshhold. "You're not going outside like that, are you, Mr. Bordello?"

"You can't leave yet, Ysak. You haven't fulfilled your promise yet." one of the girls complained. Ysak started to go outside anyway.

"You swore on your mother's council seat. You ARE going to keep your promise, right?" the other added. Ysak froze, trembling. He turned with glacial slowness.

"I'll keep my word. But you're leaving right now." he told them. Both nodded their heads.

"We wouldn't keep you from your friends." they chorused. Ysak walked up to the first of them, the one with blond hair with black stripes. He put his arms around her stiffly and leaned forward, kissing her full on the lips.

"Good night, Chanel." he whispered as he let her go. He then turned to the other one and repeated the process. "Good night, Katie." he released her and glared at them. They meekly nodded and filed out of the room and left the building.

"Damn, Ysak. DAAAMMNN." Dearka said lightly. "Not just one... but two girls eating out of your hand and meekly doing what you tell them too. How do you do it?" Dearka paused. "Or maybe the question should be... did you do it?"

Ysak just glared at Dearka and Athrun again. "I'm not going to talk to you. I'm going to go to sleep. Maybe, if I'm lucky, this will all turn out to be a bad dream." with those words, Ysak stalked up the stairs, pausing only to collect his shirt. As soon as he was safely upstairs Dearka turned to Athrun.

"I never thought I'd see something like this. Did you? In all seriousness."

Athrun only had to think for a moment. "No. I never... ever... thought I'd see Ysak in the company of two girls like that. Much less giving them a compliment and good night kisses. They MUST have coerced him. I just wanna know what they used for blackmail. If it'll work on Ysak, it'll work on anyone."

It was at this moment that Kira returned, still bearing the camera. "I just realized that every store is closed. You'll have to develop them tomorrow." he apologized.

"Not to worry, Kira. Thanks for just getting it out of sight. That's all I needed. Now, I think we should get some sleep or we're all going to be zombies tomorrow."

-------------------------------------

"We've located a possible rogue sir." Captain Sark reported over the secure line.

"Oh? Who is it?" Mr. Zunnichi asked, picking up the picture of his sixteen year old daughter Vanai and looking at it fondly. He never got back to Switzerland often enough these days. The Swiss had some of the highest standards of education in the world, which was why many rich people, like him, sent their children there to go to school.

"Vladimir Valkavich. The Strangler Horrificus. Sir." Sark replied.

"Vlad the Strangler?" Mr. Zunnichi sat up straight. "Now that is surprising. I wouldn't have figured that a man who marks his kills like Vlad does would ever turn rogue. Where is he?"

"Switzerland. The Bern suburbs." Sark replied, wincing in anticipation. There was a deadly silence.

"You mean the same suburbs my daughter goes to school in? Are you telling me that my daughter goes to school in the same place that Vlad the Strangler, the most prolific and violent Blue Cosmos fanatic to date, lives?" Mr. Zunnichi's voice rose to a shriek. "Not only that, but the same Vlad the Strangler that is even now possibly working to destroy Blue Cosmos and myself? Good god man, he's probably planning to kill my daughter! I want something done! Now!" Zunnichi screamed.

"Yes, sir. I took the liberty of assigning Lieutenants Frost and Sihov to the task. They seem to get along with each other fairly well, having been lovers before their... upgrades." Sark replied. The line went dead silent again.

"You did take the proper precautions... didn't you captain? If you didn't, then you've placed my daughter in worse danger than she originally was. BCPU 6 Frost is a beast and BCPU 5 Sihov is only a little better." Zunnichi said quietly.

"I took the precaution's sir. They've both been given only enough painkillers to last a day, at least initially. They've also both been hypnotically prevented from harming your daughter. They'd have to overcome years of conditioning to even think of hurting her. As a final precaution I've assigned my son, Ray, to the mission. He has their detonation switch with him at all times. He'll masquerade as a senior student and make sure nothing goes wrong." Sark replied, wishing his son well silently.

"... I'm trusting you, Asmodeus. If my little girl gets so much as a scratch I'll see if the techs can't push themselves and make a BCPU 7. Using you as the subject. Understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Zunnichi. Perfectly." Sark replied and hung up. He rubbed his hands together. He so loved the pressure being under threat of death granted him. It made everything feel so vibrant and alive.

-------------------------------------------------

Kira yawned and groaned slightly. He hadn't got nearly enough sleep last night. Staying up all night partying wasn't usually what he considered fun. But last night... last night seemed to release all the tensions that had been weighing him down since the battle of Jachin Due. Partly it was Lacus. But partly it was also just having fun with five good friends, laughing and joking and fooling around like any other 16 year old kids. It had been so long since he'd had real fun like that that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to laugh until it hurt or smile so wide that his lips still felt loose. He yawned before he could catch himself. It was unfortunate, but he was the only one from the group of his friends in this class. It was Algebra Two class and for some unknown reason it started at seven in the morning every day. Not that Kira was really bothered. He could do Algebra two in his sleep.

"All right class, now, since we have some new faces today, we'll be delaying the lesson so we can get introduced." the teacher, who was named Blake Lorngime, announced. Mr. Lorngime sported a tweed coat, flannel trousers and granny spectacles. A lot of the students thought he was pretty funny looking. Kira didn't really care how the man looked. That he could teach was apparent and so was the fact that he was a very nice and understanding person. Mr. Lorngime was also a counselor for the 11th grade.

When Mr. Lorngime gestured at him, Kira stood up. "Why don't you also tell us a little about yourself as well. How old you are, what you like to do for fun, what you want to be when you grow up, that sort of thing." Mr. Lorngime suggested. Kira nodded, but wondered just what the heck he was going to say. _I used to like to pilot giant nuclear powered mobile suits, but that wasn't exactly fun._ He thought grimly.

"My name is Kira Yamato. I'm sixteen years old. I like solving math problems for fun, as well as computer programming. As for what I want to be when I grow up... I think a scientist would be fun." Kira said, realizing as he did so that he sounded like a total nerd. Mr. Lorngime looked slightly surprised but nodded quickly.

"That's very nice, Kira. Why don't you sit next to Vanai over there. She can get you oriented." Mr. Lorngime said, indicating a willowy girl with blazing red hair and fiery yellow eyes who gave a half hearted wave. Kira blushed slightly, noting the envious looks of the other guys in the classroom. Well, there was no harm in sitting next to a pretty girl, was there? It wasn't as if he was cheating on Lacus just by sitting next to someone.

"Hi." Kira said quietly as he reached the indicated seat.

"Hello." Vanai responded, looking bored. Kira sat down, feeling uncomfortable. For a brief moment the girl had reminded him of Flay. He tried to shake the image out of his head, knowing it would have nothing good come of it.

Kira looked up attentively as the next new student stepped to the fore of the class. "My name is Amy Sihov. I'm seventeen years old. I like to play European football and lacrosse for fun. I wish to be an Olympic athlete when I grow up." the girl said, unconsciously posing in a way that had every guy in the room except Mr. Lorngime and Kira salivitating. She was extremely tall, more than six and a quarter feet, but did not appear too thin or lanky. She had smiling green eyes and curly black hair. She certainly was built like an Olympic athlete, with no fat anywhere on here at all, that Kira could see. He caught himself staring and turned his eyes down in shame. He already had a beautiful girlfriend. He didn't need to stare at other girls.

"So... how long you been going to this school?" Kira asked as Amy Sihov was being seated. Vanai looked over at him and snorted before turning away again.

"Long enough to hear every conceivable pick up line. Your's sucks." she told him. Kira blinked, but before he could reply, the next new student stood up. This boy was small, not much taller than five feet. He had a stocky build that made Kira think of a fire hydrant. His hair was a green so dark it looked black in most lights and eyes that were, as far as Kira could see, pitch black. Kira sat up straighter. Green hair was generally a Coordinator trait. Could this be another Coordinator?

"My name is Zacharis Frost." the boy said in a resonant but somehow chilling voice. Kira felt a shiver run up his spine as he and the boy locked eyes for a brief moment. "I'm sixteen years old. I do wood and metal work for fun. When I grow up... I wish to be a King." the boy announced. A few people started laughing, but stopped almost instantly when Zacharis looked at them. Kira felt the room grow darker somehow. Before Zacharis could sit down, Vanai raised her head off her hand and asked a question.

"What sort of metal work do you do?"

Zacharis stopped and stared at her. His lips twisted into a rictus like smile. Slowly, he touched one side of his throat with a finger and drew it horizontally along his windpipe. "I make knives." he replied, having symbolically just cut his own throat. Nobody said anything at all. Mr. Lorngime looked like he was about to say something, but obviously thought better of it. Vanai's gaze followed Zacharis all the way to his seat and stayed there.

"Now... class, turn to page three hundred and thirty in your books. You new students, look at the books of those next to you. We'll be doing problems twenty one through sixty five..."

-------------------------------------

"What a day!" Dearka groused as he set down his cafeteria platter next to Athrun and Cagalli. "Not only did I get next to no sleep last night, but all my classes have been pitifully boring! And the worst part is, I got detention for not paying attention in class! Can I help it if I learned the quadratic equation back when I was six?" he continued whining. Athrun raised an eyebrow.

"It's not a PLANT school. I would have thought you'd realize that. The trick is to act interested, even when you are bored out of your mind." Athrun replied. Dearka sighed.

"That's a pretty complex trick. Could you teach it to me?"

"If you find the work that easy, you can do my homework too." Cagalli suggested to Athrun. He glanced at her.

"That wouldn't be right. I could get in trouble for doing something like that." he told her. Cagalli started to pout. "Besides, eventually you'd have to do some work on your own, and by that time, the teacher would probably have you doing Chaos theory, which you wouldn't be able to comprehend."

Cagalli thought about that for a few moments. "I suppose you're right." she turned her attention to Dearka. "What's this I've been hearing about Ysak? Athrun let something slip about something happening with him last night, but he shut up about it and won't elaborate." Cagalli asked.

"Why do you want to know? You already have a boyfriend, what's with the interest in Ysak?" he joked. Cagalli brandished her cheap steel cafeteria knife threateningly. Dearka held up his hands defensively. "Woah, down girl. Athrun, control her before she kills me." Dearka pleaded.

"You reap what you sow." Athrun commented philosophically as he took a sip of milk and turned his eyes away. Dearka turned back to Cagalli.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. Just put the knife down." He replied. His fear and hesitation were an act. Dearka dearly loved gossip, especially when he had something really juicy to tell, like he did.

"Put what knife down? Where you threatening Dearka, Cagalli?" Miriallia asked, sitting down next to him.

"Yes."

"Oh, okay. Just wondering." Miriallia replied. Dearka looked wounded.

"Aren't you going to protest?" he asked.

"No. I want to hear the story about Ysak too. You'd better get to telling, or I'll menace you myself." she answered. Dearka sighed, faking being put out. Soon, the entire story spilled out and the two girls were quickly laughing and covering their mouths in shock at the same time.

"He had his shirt off?" Miriallia asked in wonder.

"He told them that they were the two most beautiful girls in the world? Ysak did?" Cagalli said, as if she didn't believe him. By this time Athrun had rejoined the conversation and he backed Dearka up, word for word.

"God's own truth." Dearka swore.

"And you let him get away with saying that without protesting?" Cagalli asked sweetly. Athrun looked at her as if she had said something really stupid.

"Um... yes. Why should I have protested?" Athrun asked back. Cagalli shared a look of horror with Miriallia. Dearka and Athrun couldn't tell if it was real or feigned.

"You mean neither of you protested and refuted his claim that they were the two most beautiful girls in the world? Despite the fact that each of you dates one of the two most beautiful girls on the planet?" Miriallia asked, as if trying to set things straight. Dearka had a bad feeling about where this was going. "I think they deserve to be punished for their indiscretion, don't you, Cagalli?"

"Yes, I do. Let us adjourn to elsewhere. We'll eat with some other guys, who will hopefully be more sensitive and possessed of better manners." Cagalli agreed with a predatory gleam in her eye. "God knows I've had enough admiring stares this morning to last me all week." With that the two girls stood up and moved several tables away, where they started a conversation with the people already sitting there.

"Are they serious?" Athrun asked, bewildered.

"Don't ask me. I can't even understand Mir, much less your girlfriend." Dearka answered. He looked around the crowded cafeteria. Dearka half rose and waved his hand. "Hey, Kira! Lacus! Over here!" he called.

Within moments Kira and Lacus had hurried over and sat down, glad to be able to sit next to people they already knew. Athrun noticed that Lacus was clinging quite tightly to Kira's arm. "You should be careful, or he'll lose feeling in his arm." Athrun advised. Lacus blushed and loosed her grip slightly.

"Sorry." She apologized to Kira, who just shrugged it off with a noncommittal grunt. Athrun looked at him strangely.

"You're acting withdrawn again. What's the problem?" Athrun asked. Kira blinked at him and seemed to wake up.

"Just having a tough time adapting to school again." Kira explained.

"I'll say! I've never been stared at so much before!" Lacus said indignantly. "It's almost like there was something on my face for all my classes this morning. But there isn't, I just checked! I just don't get it." She complained. "And of course it doesn't help that I only have one class with Kira, and that's Current Events and History, the last class of the day."

"As if we didn't already have a more than sufficient grasp of current events." Kira added with a brief smile. "I missed you." he whispered to Lacus and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"I missed you too." Lacus replied and squeezed his hand.

"Allo there!" a new voice said from close by. Kira stiffened. He had been thinking about that voice, and the boy it belonged to, all day. Athrun and Dearka looked up to see who had spoken. Lacus noted Kira's odd expression and focused on him. She wondered to herself what was bothering her boyfriend.

"Hello." Athrun said politely.

"I said... Allo there!" Zacharis Frost repeated, ignoring Athrun completely, his voice losing its amiable tone. He dropped one thick fingered hand on Lacus's shoulder. Lacus jumped slightly, surprised by the sudden unwanted physical contact. Kira turned rapidly and stared up at the short and dark boy. Athrun cleared his throat and leaned forward.

"I said hello." Athrun informed Zacharis coolly. Zacharis continued to ignore him as if he wasn't even there.

"You listening to me, Pink?" Zacharis whispered, bending down so his lips brushed Lacus's ear. "I said... Allo!"

Lacus tried to pull away but his grip was like an iron vise. "Please, leave me alone. I don't know you." she pleaded. Kira stood indignantly.

"That's my girlfriend, Zacharis. Don't touch her unless she says so." Kira warned. Zacharis rotated his eyes ever so slightly to look at Kira, but did not move his head from next to Lacus's.

"Frost will speak to you when Frost is ready. For now... you can leave." Zacharis replied icily. Before anyone at the table could react, Zacharis lashed out with his left hand and caught Kira squarely in the jaw, sending him sprawling back over the table and onto the ground in a welter of spilling drinks and squashed food. Lacus gave a gasp of surprise. She pulled her head forcefully away from Zacharis and slapped him with all her might. The sound of the smack of flesh on flesh resounded throughout the cafeteria, turning scores of heads. Zacharis brought the hand that had formerly been on Lacus's shoulder to his cheek, which blazed red. "Going to make you regret that, Pink. Frost never forgives." he said evilly, reaching out for her with both hands. Before he could move more than a few inches Kira rose up from the other side of the table like a phoenix made of cafeteria food.

"I don't forgive you, either, Zacharis." Kira snarled and slammed his fist into Zacharis's forehead. There was a popping sound and Kira brought his fist back with a hiss of pain, cradling it and massaging his knuckles while looking at Zacharis in disbelief. The blow did have some effect though. Zacharis stood stiffly upright. For the briefest of moments he seemed like he was going to hurl himself onto Kira, but then some last reservoir of logic kicked in and he made a hasty retreat, upsetting several other people on his way out of the room.

"Are you okay, Kira?" Lacus cried fearfully. Kira shook his hand a few more times before sitting down, still covered in food.

"Just popped my knuckles. The pain is already fading." Kira said, but then proved himself a liar by wincing when he tried to pick up his drinking cup from the floor. Lacus immediately slipped her arm around his waist and used her other hand to gently prod his wounded knuckles. Kira winced and bit his lip.

"They look squashed." Lacus said worriedly. "You should see the school nurse. Come on, no arguing now." She continued, practically dragging Kira to his feet and out of the room. Athrun turned to Dearka.

"What the hell was that guy's problem? I've hung out with soldiers my entire life and never met anyone that rude. He acted like I didn't even exist!" Athrun said angrily. Dearka nodded wordlessly.

"What bothered me was that he took Kira out with a single punch. Sure, it was only temporary, but I don't think I could do that. And did you see how fast he moved? I could barely follow him. That guy was no Natural." Dearka mused.

"He couldn't have been a Coordinator. There's not a Coordinator our age alive who doesn't know who Lacus Clyne is. He kept referring to her as "Pink" though, like he'd never seen her before and invented a name for her on the spot." Athrun protested. Dearka gave a sudden dire chuckle. "What's so funny?" Athrun asked, seeing nothing humorous.

"I hope that Zacharis guy runs into Ysak. That'd be a fight to see." Dearka answered. Even Athrun managed a grin at that. He looked at his watch.

"Geez, look at the time. I'm going to be late for class. I'll catch up with you later, Dearka." Athrun said, standing up and moving quickly away, pausing only to collect Cagalli.

"Yeah... later."

---------------------------------------

Ray Sark wiped the sweat from his brow. Damn, but that had been a close one. #13z... or Zacharis Frost, as he was known before he became a THING rather than a person had nearly flown out of control. Ray shuddered, barely able to conceive of the possible carnage that had just been averted. Frost raging loose in a crowd of civilian teenagers would have painted the walls red with blood and made the floor slippery with viscera. #13z was a killing machine without the slightest scrap of humanity or morality. Predicting what he would do next was nothing more than an educated guess based off the idea that Frost desired to live and could therefore be controlled by threatening to use the kill switch that would detonate all his implants, killing him. However, Ray wasn't entirely sure Frost WANTED to keep living. In the process of becoming a BCPU 6, a feat never before accomplished or even attempted, Frost had lost nearly everything that made him a human. He no longer conformed to thought patterns or rational thinking. He was like that one character that Ray had read about in one of his father's antique Batman comics when he was little. The Joker... that was the character's name. Madness for madnesses sake.

Luckily, his other charge, BCPU 5 Amy Sihov, was much easier to understand, if not control. She was demented too... but in the standard homicidal fashion. She'd kill you as soon as look at you, if her sedation drugs wore off. However, she really did fear death and loathed being in pain, two things which made her quite easy to manipulate. Ray only had to caress her kill switch for her to stop whatever incorrect action she was taking. Ray shook his head slightly. The whole BCPU project seemed crazy to him. Super-soldier's were nice, but these weren't quite what he'd had in mind.

A standard human was technically a BCPU 1, which meant they had the normal reflexes, strength and stamina of a Natural. A BCPU 2 was a low end Coordinator, being slightly above average in all categories. BCPU 3's, which were the minimum desired level for the project, were significantly faster, stronger and tougher than Naturals, but were also slightly unbalanced. They tended to be withdrawn and highly aggressive in stressful situations. A BCPU 3 was the equivalent of an average Coordinator, though a very aggressive one. At BCPU 4 the person's reflexes and stamina were far above even Olympic levels, but they started to become psychotic. Shani Andras, the last BCPU 4, had been prone to obsessive revenge driven behavior as well as withdrawing into fugue states out of combat.

Ray shook his head again. Rational people would have stopped there, having seen the obvious trend. However, the man his father worked for, Cervantes Zunnichi, CEO of Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers, the military contractor arm of the former Azrael Conglomerate, wasn't exactly what Ray considered rational. The number two man of Blue Cosmos, Cervantes Zunnichi had been responsible for the day to day operation and activities of Blue Cosmos, while Azrael Murata had done the recruiting and long term strategy work. Zunnichi had revised the BCPU project on Azrael's death, pressuring the scientists into continuing on despite objections. A BCPU 4 was supposed to be able to beat or equal any Coordinator ever created. However, this was proven to be wrong when Shani was killed in the battle of Jachin Due.

So a pair of BCPU 5's were created, at the cost of dozens of subjects suffering irreparable mental damage during the treatments. BCPU 5's were monsters. Ray had seen Amy kick a hole in a wooden wall six inches thick without breaking a sweat. Their reaction speed was so quick that they could duck a knife thrown at them from less than two feet away without the knife even getting close. They were also extremely resilient, being able to suffer nearly catastrophic blood loss and organ failure and still survive. At one point in time, Amy's right lung had collapsed and her left leg half severed below the knee in a "training accident". She had lain in a pool of her own blood, gasping for air for twelve hours before the technicians could get to her and administer medical treatments. Unfortunately, BCPU 5's were totally homicidal. If extreme precautions were not taken, they could and would kill anyone their whims told them to kill. They had to be sedated all the time out of direct combat and fitted with kill switch implants to ensure loyalty.

Of course, the really frightening one was Frost. Out of two hundred candidates, he was the only one to survive the upgrades. Frost could tear a grown man's head off with a single swipe of his hand, and had put his fist through a thin brick wall numerous times during testing. As far as Ray had ever seen, you could punch at Frost all day long and you'd hit nothing but air unless he wanted you too. And... as that unfortunate student with the brown hair had found out, Frost's body was as strong as iron. The poor kid had likely broken his hand or wrist. The downside to this superman was that he had lost every bit of the person he used to be, except for the instincts to hurt and kill, each magnified to proportions dozens of times greater than those found in Naturals. Even his seeming infatuation with the pink haired girl was not from love. Frost would lure her away from other people to an isolated spot and then slowly skin her alive and rape her afterwards, while she was still conscious and screaming. Frost called it "sharing his life", and it was one of his favorite activities. Frost was like the psycho murderers from horror films, except that Frost would eat those pitiful evils for breakfast.

"Excuse, me, but shouldn't you be in class?" an adult voice asked him. Ray started from his reverie. A teacher with a slightly suspicious look on her face was staring at him from the hallway door. While Ray had been thinking, lunch had ended and all the other students had left.

"No, ma'am. I'm a senior hall monitor. This is my watch period. I heard about a fight in the cafeteria, but by the time I got here, the miscreants were gone. I was just trying to figure out who it might have been." Ray replied respectfully, in the tones that always worked to reassure adults. The teacher sighed and leaned against the door.

"Another fight? We've been having a rash of them today. It seems that the latest group of new students aren't fitting in very well. I already sent one of them, a boy with the most unnerving scar across his face, to detention for his negative attitude. On his way to the office, he punched another boy and knocked out four of his teeth. Normally we'd suspend someone like that, but his personal file say's he's a war orphan. God only knows what he went through during that horrible war. We'll put him in counseling instead." she replied.

"That seems like a good idea." Ray said with real sympathy. There were too many war orphans. And all because of the damned space monsters, the Coordinators, didn't know their place. Ray felt a welling up of hate inside him and had to choke it off before the teacher noticed.

"Maybe you should check down at the nurses office? If one of your miscreants was injured during the fight, he might end up there with some other excuse. I can't tell you how many people I've seen try to explain a black eye and bloody nose as injuries from walking into a door." the teacher suggested. Ray nodded in seeming agreement. If nothing else, it would let him check up on the kid that Frost had injured. Hopefully the injury wasn't too severe, because of the possible consequences for Frost and the mission. If Frost was suspended from school, he'd not be able to watch Ms. Vanai Zunnichi's back. Ray frowned. That girl was a total bitch. She put on airs like she was the queen of fucking France. She held court in every class she went to, with a large crowd of admiring but not very intelligent boys on hand at all times to attend her every need. Even the teacher's treated her like she was someone special. And all because her daddy was one of the richest and most powerful men in the world, with a bank account balance probably higher than the national treasury of Switzerland itself. Ray excused himself and made his way down to the nurse's office.

"Are you sure you're okay, Kira? Your hand didn't look so good." a melodic girl's voice asked from behind the partially open door to the examination room. A boy, probably the one addressed as Kira, sighed.

"It was just some bruised knuckles and a badly sprained wrist. I'll be as good as new in a few days. The nurse taped it up so I can't hurt it any more unless I slam it into a wall or something." Kira replied.

"That's a relief. I don't like it when you get hurt, it's happened too often before. Though taking care of you was quite fun then. If only I could do that without you having to be hurt first." the girl hinted wistfully. There was a sudden sound of lips meeting ever so briefly.

"You can take care of me whenever you want, Lacus." Kira said, fumbling his way through a romantic line. Ray started. Lacus? Lacus? Why is that name so familiar? "However, we should really get back to class or we'll miss important work. I'll see you in Current Events and History. Then we'll go out and get some ice cream after school. How does that sound?" Kira continued. There was another sound indicating a public display of affection.

"Oh, Kira, that'd be wonderful! I haven't had ice cream... since last night." the girl said slowly, having caught up to her own thoughts.

"Oh... yeah. Right. How about a relaxing dinner then? I think we both need it after today." Kira replied instantly.

"It's a date." Lacus told him. "I always wanted to say that." she added in a voice so quiet only Kira could hear. Ray jumped back a step as the door swung open and Lacus stepped out. Ray couldn't help but stare. Suddenly his thoughts went into overdrive. _Pink hair... blue eyes... dresses in purple, pink and white... named Lacus... it couldn't be. Why the hell would Lacus Clyne, the Coordinator daughter of the former chairman of the supreme Plant council be here on Earth? Hell, what are the odds of me running into her like this? This is like some gift sent by some higher power, though which I'm still not sure. Zunnichi would freak if he found out his daughter was going to the same school as a Coordinator. _Ray thought. Suddenly a glowing idea popped into his head. _I'd be well rewarded if I took her out! Lacus Clyne was one of our top five targets for a while, considering her pop culture icon status among Coordinators. If I could prove I killed her, or had a hand in her death, why... I'd probably get promoted to colonel on the spot! And Zacharis Frost has already selected her for his target! Things are going so well, and I didn't even have to do anything. Though of course the report won't say that._

"I'm tired of being stared at. I wish the boy's at this school would take a hint and realize I'm already involved with someone." Lacus complained as she looped her arm through the arm of the boy known as Kira. Ray quickly turned his head away, as if shamed. In truth, he had been so caught up in visualizing how his Colonel's uniform would look on him that he hadn't even been really looking at Lacus, just in her general direction. _I'm going to be famous. And rich. And powerful. And all because my dad sent me on this stupid worthless mission in the first place, as a way of getting me out from underfoot. Thanks dad. You know what? I think I actually mean that. Maybe I'll toss him a few worthless missions once I'm his superior. Maybe he'll get lucky like I have. Though I doubt it._ Ray mused before heading off at a brisk walk to the rendezvous point where he was meeting Zacharis and Amy after school. He was already thinking of a foolproof way to take Lacus Clyne out.


	7. Unknown Care

Ysak glowered at the morass of students slowly filtering their way out the main doors of the school. Ysak was sitting in the Principal's waiting area, which was just to the left of the main doors. Ysak was awaiting judgment on his "assault of a fellow student" from earlier in the day. Ysak shifted slightly and intensified his scowl. It was the kid's own fault. He shouldn't have laughed at Ysak for getting a detention from "negative attitude", whatever that was. Ysak didn't think he had a negative attitude. He just had a realistic perspective. There was nothing that Biology teacher could have conceivably taught him that Ysak hadn't learned years before. Ysak could have listed all the various bones in the human body from memory, having actually seen many of them during the war. There was no need to practice them out loud with his fellow students. And "Hell" was definetly not a swear word. Not in Ysak's experience. The teacher probably would have fainted dead away if she had met some of the mechanics that usually repaired his Duel Gundam.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Dearka asked, sitting down next to Ysak. Ysak just glared at him, remembering last night. "Okay... stupid question. How bad is the other guy hurt?" Dearka amended.

"He lost a few teeth. That's all. Don't see why they're making such a big deal of it." Ysak grumbled. "Why are YOU here? Have you come to torment me some more?" Ysak asked nastily. Dearka snorted.

"Ysak, we're in school. That means we have to go back to playing nice with others. Especially when..." Dearka lowered his voice to a whisper. "... the others are not Coordinators." Dearka smiled and continued on in a louder voice. "As for why I'm here, well, I got detention for "not paying attention in class". I'm wounded that you would think I would come here just to torment you. Why should I? I can do it much more easily back at the living complex. I can't wait to see how those pictures turn out."

"What pictures?" a feminine voice asked from behind Ysak's chair. Someone placed a soft hand on the top of Ysak's head. Without even turning, Ysak knew who it was because of Dearka's snicker.

"Ysak-y... what's he talking about?" the other girl said, placing her hand on Ysak's shoulder. Ysak tensed, prepared to drop and roll away. Chanel and Katie noticed and each took a handful of his shirt and hair respectively.

"You two were there. You saw Dearka take those pictures of us." Ysak complained. The girls gave slight giggles.

"Oh, those pictures. We thought he was talking about something interesting." Katie said, waving the whole thing off. Dearka gaped.

"You don't consider lying with your head in a shirtless man's lap while the other one of you holds tight to his arm like a limpet interesting?" Dearka asked in surprise.

"Not to us. After all, we were there, like Ysak-y says. We hardly need pictures to remind ourselves." Chanel replied.

"Aren't you embarrassed though? I was planning on posting those pictures up all over the school." Dearka protested, his fun in danger.

"Why should we be embarrassed?" Katie wondered.

"It's not like we've done anything to be ashamed of." Chanel added.

"Be... Because..." Dearka trailed off. "I can't believe I'm having to explain to you why you should be embarrassed. Everyone else I know would be freaking out if I posted pictures of such a private moment all over the school." Dearka complained. "I mean, look at Ysak. He's turned so red that his head looks like a tomato."

"Oh, I never said we wouldn't freak out." Chanel replied.

"Yeah, we'd get really, really jealous if all the other girls at school got to look at Ysak-y's chest without our permission." Katie added.

"He's our guy, not theirs."

"Sharing only goes so far."

"If you post those pictures all over the school, we'll cry and tell Uncle Vladimir. He won't be happy." Chanel informed Dearka.

"Yeah. You wouldn't like Uncle Vladimir when he's not happy." Katie confirmed. Dearka looked at them in shock.

"Are you threatening to sic your Uncle on me if I post these picture's all over the school?" he asked. They both nodded, quite seriously. "Well then, I guess meeting your Uncle is something I'm going to be doing shortly then. I already posted the pictures, you see. Everyone who walks out those doors..." Dearka indicated the main entrance. "... Is getting quite the gander at six blown up photo's of Ysak and you two curled up on our couch." Ysak choked slightly.

"Why are you being so cruel to me? I thought we were friends!" Ysak demanded. Dearka looked hurt.

"We are friends. I'm trying to draw you out of your surly shell. I mean, take some revenge every now and then. Light hearted revenge." Dearka replied, making sure to qualify his request, not wanting to end up in a hospital. "Dude, we can relax now. We don't have to keep acting like the survival of the world hangs on our shoulders. We can have fun. Go to movies. Play practical jokes. Go ride roller coasters. All those things we couldn't do before because of the war. We can act like teenagers again. You, though, refuse to cooperate. So I'm prodding you along. It's for your own good." Dearka summed up.

"Your prodding hurts, Dearka. I wish you would stop." Ysak said seriously. Before they could get much further, the Principal came out and beckoned Ysak into his office for "a few minutes". Chanel and Katie sat down on either side of Dearka.

"You didn't actually post those pictures, did you?"

"If you did, Uncle Vladimir will probably rip your balls off and shove them down your throat. He's very protective of our happiness."

"He's waiting outside with the car to pick us up. He'll notice the crowd of people by the picture's and investigate. Then he'll come looking for us."

"As soon as we see him we're going to burst into tears and blame everything on you."

"Then, Uncle Vladimir will come to your house one night when you're sleeping."

"He'll sneak in and gag you so you can't scream."

"Then he'll slowly take you apart with his bare hands."

"He'll go slow so you don't faint too soon."

"By the next morning you'll be a sobbing mass of boy gelatin."

Dearka looked from one girl to the other as they talked in turn, trying to gauge if they were serious or not. He was starting to get a little disturbed, because, as far as he could tell, they weren't kidding. "Okay, okay, look. I was just messing with him. I didn't post the pictures and I wasn't actually going to. He is my best friend, after all. Just, don't tell him I said that. You can tell him you took the pictures down before anyone else saw them. Or whatever other excuse you can think of." he told them. They both smiled at him and then at each other.

"It works every time."

"Just like Uncle Alkire said it would."

"Guy's are weak. They always crack under our Uncle Vladimir stories."

"Even Ysak-y did."

"But we forgive him. We had him across a barrel."

"Well, not literally, but maybe sometime in the future we could try that."

The girl's gloating was broken off when Ysak came back out, his face thunderous. Dearka was called in immediately afterwards and by the time he came out, after swearing never to do wrong again, Ysak and the two girls were nowhere in sight. Dearka shrugged and headed outside. Just as he was passing one of the pillars that held up the front overhang of the school, someone dropped a very cold hand on his shoulder and stopped him short. "Don't turn around." a dry voice ordered as the hand squeezed his shoulder hard enough to cause it to go numb.

"Who are you?" Dearka asked, complying.

"The girl's told me about what you said. You had them worried for a while. I don't like it when they get worried. They have already suffered more than you can imagine. Messing with their heads isn't something I look kindly upon. Especially since they finally found a guy they both care about." the dry, almost rasping voice said.

"You're the one they called Uncle Vladimir." Dearka stated. The man behind him chuckled hoarsely.

"I am. I'm sure they told you, but I'm fiercely protective of them. We all are."

"Are you really as violent as they said you are?" Dearka asked, tensing to pull away. Before he could Vlad's grip crunched down on his shoulder hard enough to draw a hiss of pain. It felt like steel bars were digging into his flesh.

"Don't even think of it." Vlad warned, easing the pressure some. "As for your question..." the voice suddenly got much closer and Dearka could feel the man's breath rustle his hair. "You've heard of the Strangler Horrificus?"

Dearka shivered. Every Coordinator child had heard of the Strangler Horrificus. He was supposed to be a bogeyman who collected children who were bad or stayed up too late and then strangled them and took their heads for his trophy room. "He's a fairy tale." Dearka replied. Vlad chuckled in a whispery manner.

"Believe what you will, boy. Myths usually have some foundation in truth." With those words Dearka suddenly felt another very cold hand grasp him around the back of the neck. "Contrary to popular belief, a Strangler doesn't always use a rope or his bare hands. If you crush the neck of your victim, their body goes into total paralysis and they cannot breathe. That counts as a Strangle. It's really not all that hard. Only a few pounds of pressure are required. Anybody who has spent some time with hand exercises can do it. Even if the victim is a Coordinator." Vlad hinted broadly.

"How did you know I was a Coordinator?" Dearka asked, keeping very still.

"When you've done the things I have, for as long as I have, you figure out how to spot them. Your posture is much more fluid and graceful than that of a Natural. You bump into things much less frequently than a Natural. And you tend to speak more correctly as well, because of your higher intelligence potential. Though you certainly don't." Vlad answered.

"So, now what? Do you snap my neck?" Dearka asked. Vlad chuckled again.

"Of course not. I was just delivering a warning. I'm going to release you and you're going to count to sixty, slowly and without turning or moving. After you reach sixty you can do whatever you want. Hopefully, the next time we meet, we'll be able to converse more amiably."

"You're not really the Strangler Horrificus, are you?" Dearka worked up the courage to ask.

"No. I'm not. His name was Andre. Andre Forkav. He was... a former colleague. He's... gone now." Vlad said quietly. It was even true, after a sense. Andre Forkav was dead and buried, killed in a "shuttle crash" years ago, even before the war. However, it was the man called Vladimir Valkavich that had actually gone down in that shuttle, while Andre had taken his best friend's name and identity and life for his own, resolved to make up for his innumerable sins. Vladimir was not the Strangler Horrificus and never had been. Sometimes that comforted him. More often, it depressed him. "I'm releasing you now. Remember, count to sixty, slowly, before turning or moving."

"I already know what you look like. I saw you yesterday, at the airport." Dearka pointed out. "Whats with the secrecy?"

"Habit. Besides, now we look just like an older man and his son, holding a friendly but private conversation. If I was griping you by the front of throat, people would think I was hurting you."

"You ARE hurting me. My shoulder feels broken. What the hell is with your hands? They feel like ICE!" Dearka complained. He turned his head very fractionally and looked at the hand on his shoulder. It was of normal size, but completely covered in a bulky black polymer fabric glove. A loose long sleeved shirt covered the wrist and what little arm Dearka could see. The hand on his shoulder tightened again, causing Dearka to go white with keeping his scream in. His collarbone felt like it was grinding against his shoulder.

"Curious, are we? Many are. I admire your guts, kid. Maybe, I'll even start to like you, eventually. Perhaps then I'll let you in on my little secret. But for now... begin counting." Vlad said, squeezing the back of Dearka's neck just so, pinching a certain nerve bundle. Dearka tried to spin around, but collapsed to his knees instead, entire body numb and stomach roiling painfully. By the time he was finished dry heaving, Vladimir was nowhere in sight.

"Dearka! Are you okay?" Miriallia cried, kneeling next to him, placing a worried hand on his shoulder. Dearka winced as her fingers came down squarely on the deep bruises Vladimir's fingers had left on his skin.

"Yeah... just whammed my shoulder into a door. I'll be okay in a bit." Dearka replied in a slightly breathless voice, climbing to his feet with a wobble only a Coordinator would notice.

"You should be more careful. First Kira injured his hand brawling with that rude boy at lunch, and now you hurt your shoulder. Just because you were a soldier doesn't mean you're invincible." Miriallia said quietly, putting a supporting arm about his waist. Dearka looked at her with considerable surprise.

"I didn't know you cared." he commented, looking at her arm. Miriallia blushed slightly and started to retract her arm before gripping him tightly again.

"I do care." she replied very quietly. She thought back to the night before, after the girls had separated from the guys, ostensibly to look at a jewelry store. However, as soon as they were inside, Cagalli and Lacus had dragged her into the bathroom and locked the door. Mir had had no idea what was going on. _"What do you want?" she had asked. Cagalli and Lacus had folded their arms and looked at her severely. "We don't like what you're doing to Dearka." Lacus replied first. "I know he was a jerk to you when you first met, but you're being far meaner to him acting like you are than he ever was to you." Cagalli had added. "I don't know what you mean." Mir had shot back. "Either tell him you don't like him and tell him to go away, or admit you have feelings for him. Don't keep switching back and forth. He won't be able to take it much longer." Cagalli said. "Coordinators are still only human too, in a lot of ways. We're much more emotionally fragile than people think." Lacus put in. "You were around Kira for most of the war, you know how hard it was on him. Back on the Eternal, he cried himself to sleep for a while after Jachin Due." Lacus continued. "Athrun is the same way. When I confronted him after he self-destructed the Aegis and believed he killed Kira, he was a wreck. He couldn't stop weeping. Now he has to struggle every day to not get depressed over his dad shooting him and then trying to destroy all Naturals." Cagalli said in turn. "Dearka isn't any stronger than Kira and Athrun in the emotional department. He just gets cheerful seeming rather than depressed." Lacus said._

_"What do you know?" Mir had asked, starting to get angry. Lacus stepped forward. "About Dearka? Only what i heard from Athrun and what little i knew of him from other sources. His father, Tad Elsman, is a member of the PLANT supreme council. He lives on one of the agricultural colonies with Dearka's mom. I don't know her name, she's a very private person. Once Dearka entered the military they cut off contact with him. They never even bothered to see where he was stationed nor did they come to his graduation ceremony when he became an elite mobile suit pilot. As bad as it is to lose a father to war, like Cagalli, Athrun and I have, in many ways it is worse to know your parents are alive, but that they consider you dead and not part of their family any more." Lacus explained. "Listen, I know you're in pain over the loss of Tolle." Cagalli had begun._

_"You don't know anything!" Mir had screamed. "Tolle was everything to me! We were going to get married, i know it! He was considerate and smart and very witty. He always made me feel better whenever i felt down. I can't just forget about him and move on!" she had ranted. Cagalli waited for an opening before continuing. "As i was saying, i know how you feel, sort of. Back in the desert, there was a resistance fighter named Ahmed. I didn't know it until too late, but he was very much in love with me. He was a friend and that's all i thought he was. Only after he was killed attacking a Bucue in retaliation for the attack on the town did i realize what he had meant to me. His last thought was that he wanted to wish me well. Later, i found a piece of jade he was going to carve for me. His mother gave it to me. I felt like the bottom had dropped out of the world." Cagalli said._

_"But... I can't be in love with Dearka!" Mir had protested. "I mean... i mean... he's sarcastic, says hurtful things and... and..." she hesitated. "Reminds you of Tolle?" Lacus had provided. Mir had gasped before slowly nodding. "Yes. How can i love him when whenever I see him I think of Tolle and it rips into my heart like a knife?" she had asked. "You think he feels any better? Why do you think he's always so nervous around you? Every time he looks at you he remembers that horribly stupid comment he made back on the Archangel. It twists in his guts like the scalpel you tried to kill him with." Lacus said. Mir had blushed. "I tried to apologize for that." she mumbled. "That may have been your mistake." Cagalli said. Mir had looked at her questioningly. "When Dearka made his hurtful comment and saw your reaction, he knew he'd screwed up. He expected you to hate him and sort of came to terms with that. But then you saved him from being shot by Flay, and took good care of him while he was in the Archangel's prison. He started to get mixed up. He couldn't figure if you hated him or liked him. He still doesn't know. So if you really don't believe you can love him, tell him so he can move on. But if you do love him, despite what you say, then you should let him know that as well, or else he's going to collapse from confusion." Cagalli finished._

_"How do you two know so much?" Mir had asked, sinking to her knees with tears in her eyes. "Both Kira and Athrun aren't what could be called emotionally stable. We have to be very careful not to inadvertently hurt them. They, and Dearka too, are like brilliant diamonds. When taken care of properly, they shine and twinkle and make everyone around them feel awed and happy. When angry there isn't anything that they can't cut through. However, for all their concentrated hardness and brilliant sparkle, they break easily. A single drop or tap in the wrong place from a hammer will crack or shatter a diamond, rendering it worthless for its previous role. Likewise, the emotional drop of not knowing if someone loves you or hates you, or the hammer blow of the self loathing and despair they all feel will break Athrun, Kira and Dearka just like a Diamond." Lacus had said in a touching analogy. _

_"You need to catch Dearka before he hits the ground and breaks. Even if you catch him only to give him up, its still better than letting him destroy himself because you don't know whether to dive for the diamond and look undignified and accept a change or stay true to your memories and let it break while remaining who you used to be." Lacus had admonished. Mir had started crying then. She couldn't help herself. In her minds eye she saw two diamonds. One had a picture of Tolle in it, but was on display behind a wall of impenetrable glass. It looked wonderful, but was inaccessible and useless to her. The other had a picture of Dearka in it and had just rolled off a table and was plummeting towards the ground, but there was nothing but open space between her and it. She stood halfway between the two diamonds._

"I care very much." Miriallia repeated out loud. She had caught the diamond and held it close. Almost as close as she now held Dearka himself. _I'm sorry Tolle... but I just couldn't let him break. I'll always remember you. But I need more than a memory now._

_-----------------------------------------_

"What's this?" Kira said, holding up a bright orange envelope that had appeared in his mailbox at the living apartments. It was Friday afternoon, and after suffering a full week of school, Kira was looking forward to the weekend. The work was of course not hard, but pretending to pay attention in class was starting to get really tedious. Even in Current Events and History, which was usually filled with highly opinionated debate, was starting to get old. If Lacus hadn't been in the same class to calm him down, Kira probably would have started tearing his hair out long ago. The school people had the whole war all wrong! They discussed right and wrong and blame and all the other little things that didn't actually matter in a real war. Were the PLANTS wrong to use GENESIS to destroy the Ptolmaus Base? Just as wrong as the Earth Forces were when they nuked Boaz. Kira groaned, even now fed up with it. Who's fault was the war?

That was a very hotly debated topic. Most of the kids were Naturals, and so they believed that it had been the PLANTS who had started the war by breaking away from their parent countries. Lacus had nearly leapt out of her chair when the kid finished that presentation and Kira had had a hard time calming her down. He didn't feel so happy himself about that. It had obviously been Junius Seven which opened the war, but whether the Naturals or the Coordinators were to BLAME for it was not something he was prepared to accept as debatable. As he had so painfully learned, there was no right or wrong in war, not really. As Mr. Waltfeld had said when Kira had asked if he wanted revenge or not. "In war everyone has a reason. But no one actually does."

Kira looked at the blank orange envelope curiously. It had no name or return address on it, and from its slimness and weight, there couldn't have been more than one or two sheets of paper in it. Kira walked back inside to the common room, where Athrun, Dearka, Ysak and Sai were lounging about, sipping glasses of juice and sodas while talking about nothing in particular.

"What's that you got there?" Athrun asked him.

"I don't know. It was just in my mail." Kira responded.

"Well, open it and find out." Dearka recommended. Kira opened the letter without difficulty and took out the single folded piece of paper. He read it silently. Dearka looked at him. "C'mon, what's it say? It's not something private between you and Lacus, is it?"

"No." Kira replied absently. "You have been invited to the estate of Vanai Zunnichi for her pre-christmas costume party. Costumes may be of any type, though there will be prizes for best costume. The party will take place on this Saturday night at 5:00 pm. Please arrive a few minutes early. Food and drink will be provided. The Party will last until 1:00 am, so come rested. There will be games and other activities. P.S. Our apologies for the late notice, but Ms. Zunnichi was only recently able to get parental permission to use her estate." Kira read out loud. Everyone else was silent.

"You got invited to a party?" Athrun asked at last.

"Why didn't I get invited?" Dearka added.

"Maybe you did. I don't know about you guys, but I haven't checked my mail yet." Sai answered.

"Who's Vanai Zunnichi?" Ysak asked. The room went silent again.

"How could you not know?" Sai asked, unconsciously echoing Lacus's words to Kira on the Eternal. Ysak waited patiently. "She's the most popular girl at school. She's the be all and end all of the school social scene. I've yet to meet an unattached guy that doesn't hunger to be her boyfriend. Heck, a lot of the already involved boys would dump their girls in a heartbeat if Vanai said she would go out with them." Sai explained, blushing slightly.

"Popular... Social Scene. Now I know why Ysak doesn't know who she is." Dearka commented. "He doesn't do popular or social scenes." Ysak kicked Dearka under the table. "Ow! Hey, at least I didn't say you were unattached." Ysak kicked him harder this time. "Ahg! My leg!"

"KIIRRAA!" Lacus called, bounding into the room waving a sheet of paper and an orange envelope. She looked at them and noticed that Kira already held exactly what she was holding. "You got one too?" she asked.

"Yes. I didn't know you knew Vanai." Kira replied.

"I don't. Or I barely do. She doesn't strike me as a very nice person. How does she know you?" Lacus replied.

"I sit next to her in math class." Kira replied. Lacus arced an eyebrow.

"And...?"

"That's it. She's very untalkative. Whenever I try to talk to her, she insults me." Kira replied. Lacus frowned.

"I don't like her." Lacus decided. "I think I'm just going to rip up this invitation. I'll tell Cagalli and Miriallia to do the same with theirs."

"Woah, hold on a second there. Mir got an invitation too?" Dearka asked.

"Cagalli as well." Lacus confirmed. Dearka jumped out of his seat and raced outside. He was back within a minute, holding two invitation envelopes proudly.

"This one was in your box." Dearka said, handing Athrun one of the envelopes.

"How did you get into my mailbox?" Athrun asked suspiciously. Dearka just coughed and looked away.

"I think I'm going to go change my code." Ysak declared. Sai went with him to do the same thing.

"This is odd. I've seen her around once or twice, but she never paid me any attention and vice versa." Athrun said, reading his invitation.

"Probably because she sensed that Cagalli would claw her eyes out if she did, and yours if you did." Dearka replied. "Your girlfriend is SCARY sometimes, dude. Violent and really pushy. How do you stand it?"

"I just remind myself that she's only acting like she is because she's trying to take my mind off my problems. And that despite the fact that she has shot at me multiple times, I'm still alive and whole." Athrun replied, taking a calm sip of his drink.

"Don't rip up your invitation, Lacus." Kira said. "Vanai is only insulting to me because she thinks I'm hitting on her and doing badly at it." he continued. This, however, was not the right thing to say. Lacus gripped him by the chin.

"You'd better not be!" she warned him. Dearka couldn't resist.

"Better not be hitting on her or better not be doing a bad job of hitting on her?" he asked snidely. This time it was Athrun who kicked him under the table. "Ow... my leg. I need that... to stand and all."

"Then stop making stupid comments."

Kira was getting flustered "I'm not! To either! I just try and start a normal conversation. Even just saying "hello" or "how long have you been going to this school" sets her off. It's almost like she EXPECTS me to be hitting on her and is confused when I don't." Kira protested. Lacus stared deep into his eyes.

"I believe you. But now I really don't like her. Why do you want to keep her invitation?" Lacus asked, sitting down onto Kira's lap.

"Maybe if she sees you and me together, she'll figure out that I already have someone I love..." Kira broke off to kiss Lacus. "... and she'll realize that i'm just trying to talk to her, not make a move. I don't think my math class could get any more tense. Every guy is shooting me jealous glares while I would gladly trade places with them and Vanai freaks out every time I open my mouth. It's getting really annoying." Kira continued. "Besides, I've never been to a costume party. It sounds like a lot of fun."

"Okay. I suppose it can't hurt to give it a try. And a costume party would be fun. But if she keeps on you afterwards, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind." Lacus replied. "We should get going then. It's going to be hard to find good costumes with so little time remaining."

"Anybody else coming?" Kira asked. Athrun stood up, as did Dearka and Sai, who had come back in from his mailbox with an invitation only moments earlier. Ysak looked at his envelope as if it were a poisonous insect and sat down again.

"I'm not going." he declared. This didn't really surprise anyone.

"Entertaining a couple guests while we're gone?" Dearka asked wickedly. Ysak made as if to hurl a can of soda at him. Dearka yelped and ran out the door after everyone else. The door closed and Ysak relaxed.

"Whew! This week has been hell! Those girls won't leave me alone. And the counseling sessions are pure bullshit. I don't have anger problems!" Ysak declared to the empty room, slamming his fist down on the table hard. Ysak stood up and decided to take a nice hot shower. That would calm him down. For a wonder, he wasn't interrupted. He put on a dark blue bathrobe and went downstairs. Knowing his companions habits, he guessed he had a good six hours to himself. Their shopping trip would turn into dinner dates and then dallying. Ysak was just fixing himself a roast beef sandwich when someone knocked on the door. Ysak froze and tried not to make a sound. How did they always know when he was alone? Hopefully they'd figure he wasn't home and would go away.

No such luck. Ysak made out giggling sounds from the hallway and then the scrape of metal on metal. Slowly the doorknob turned, halting and jerking, as if being manipulated by something other than a key. With a sudden loud "Click!" the door sprang open. "Told you I could do it." Katie said, standing up straight again, a pair of lockpicks in her hand.

"I never doubted that you could do it, Sis. I just doubted whether or not you could do it before someone noticed." Chanel replied, stepping into the room. She noticed Ysak, despite him doing his best rabbit freezing so the hawks wouldn't notice act. "Hi, Ysak-y. How are you doing?"

Ysak considered the steak knife he held in one hand. No... there was no way he could get both with one throw. Besides, he had heard Dearka talk about the little warning Uncle Vladimir had given him. And seen the massive hand shaped bruise on Dearka's shoulder. No sense in provoking the disturbed man. Ysak settled for another glare. "I was doing okay. But then you two showed up."

"Ysak-y always says the sweetest things." Katie commented, putting her lockpicks away. Ysak stared at her and her tools.

"Since when can you pick locks?" he asked.

"Its a little skill Uncle Vladimir taught me. I'm pretty good at it, aren't I?" she replied. Chanel meanwhile was sitting in Ysak's chair, looking at the orange envelope with curiosity. As Ysak watched she opened it and looked at the invitation.

"EEEK! What's this? Ysak-y's been invited to a party at Bitch-queen Vanai's house!" she cried. Katie spun in disbelief.

"No... she can't take Ysak-y away from us! I won't let her."

"I'm not going to go to that party." Ysak told them. They ignored him.

"We'll have to forge invitations so we can protect our interests." Chanel decided.

"It's a costume party! That'll be perfect. We can go in disguise. She'll never figure out that we're packing real heat."

"I'm not going to go to that party." Ysak repeated.

"We'll have to stick by Ysak-y's side the entire time so she doesn't spirit him away!"

"And we'll have to bring our own food and drink so she doesn't drug him!"

"I'M NOT GOING TO THAT PARTY!" Ysak shouted. The two girls stopped and looked at him.

"Of course you are. You're taking us. How else will we get inside to protect you from her evil clutches?" Chanel asked.

"We won't let you leave us behind! It's not safe for you in there!" Katie added. Ysak rubbed his forehead and eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Arrgh!" he complained.

"By the way... that's a very nice bathrobe you have on." Chanel commented slyly.

"Can I see it? Are you wearing anything underneath?" Katie asked.

"That's not your business." Ysak informed them, backing up to the far corner of the kitchen. The two girls looked at each other and gave what Ysak thought of as chilling nods. Suddenly Chanel was pounding up the stairs to the second story.

"I'll search his room for interesting stuff!" she called.

"Meanwhile... I'll search HIM for interesting stuff." Katie called back with a smile. She started closing in on Ysak with a predatory smile.


	8. The Costumes

"Why is there a knife sticking through our door?" Athrun asked. Dearka, Sai and Kira just blinked, staring in incomprehension at the three or so inches of serrated carving knife projecting tip first from their door. Athrun looked more closely at the door. "Our lock has been picked! Our room was broken into!" he said, pushing the door open. The common room was a mess. It looked like someone had just fought a boxing match with a pair of mobile suits in their dining room. The couch and nearly all the plush chairs were tipped over and pushed far out of place, while the table was canted at a crazy angle where it leaned against the base of the stairs, like a barricade. Silverware, pots, pans and plastic drinking cups were spilled all over the floor of the adjoining kitchen, looking almost as if someone had pulled out the drawers and then dumped them on the ground.

"I don't see anything missing." Sai commented, looking around. "Maybe the motive wasn't theft. Maybe it was just some crazy guy who gets off on vandalism."

"Or someone seeking revenge on one of us." Athrun replied. "This place looks like a madman worked out a lot of rage on it. Though it is curious that nothing seems broken either, just tossed out of place.

"Who of us could possibly have any enemies that would do something like this?" Kira asked. Sai looked at the three Coordinators.

"Blue Cosmos doesn't like us very much." He pointed out. Dearka snorted in dismissal.

"If this was a Blue Cosmos op we would have been gunned down the moment we entered, or this place would already be a blasted and burned shell, not just very messy." Dearka told him. Sai conceded that point.

"What about that guy who punched you earlier in the week? Frost was his name, wasn't it?" Athrun asked Kira. Kira looked at his hand, which was still taped lightly. The school nurse had told him he had come within a hair of breaking all of his knuckles and had nearly cracked his wrist. She asked what wall he had punched, to receive such an injury. Kira hadn't had the heart to tell her it had been Zacharis Frost's forehead, not a wall.

"Maybe. But he has it in more for Lacus, since she was the one who slapped him. He didn't really seem to notice me, even when I punched him." Kira answered. A sudden horrible premonition seized Athrun, Dearka and Kira at the same time. As one they burst out of their room back into the hall, nearly getting jammed together in the doorway. Their fears turned out to be unfounded. The girl's room was untouched and as pristine as it ever got. The girls themselves were just starting to take out their costume materials and assembling them. The guys excused themselves and hurried back to their own room. While they had been gone Sai had been taking stock of the situation.

"There's nothing missing or broken down here. I've been waiting for you guys to get back before I go upstairs. I think I heard somebody moving around up there." Sai reported. Dearka looked around, noticing something else.

"Where's Ysak? There's no way he'd ever allow something like this to happen without putting up a fight. At the very least, there should be some blood on the floor, if not a few bodies." Dearka noted. Athrun and Kira moved the tipped over table out of the way so the stairs were accessible. Slowly, Athrun led the way up the stairs, arms loose and legs crouched into a ready stance. The lay out of the rooms were such that there was a room at the far end of the hall which fed into the stairs, which was Ysak's, and then a room on either side of the second floor hall. The room on the right was Athrun's and Sai's, while the left room was Kira's and Dearka's. Dearka gave a low whistle, looking at the ceiling over the stairs. "Look at all those holes! It looks almost like someone had a gun battle in here."

Athrun eased towards his own door, careful not to make a sound before he threw the door open and leaped inside. His room was empty and untouched. Kira did likewise to his own room, and found the exact same thing. Nothing. Their rooms might as well have been in a different building. Dearka stole towards Ysak's door. His palms became sweaty. Everyone else flattened against the walls of the hallway. Dearka crouched up against the door, reaching up with one hand to slowly turn the knob.

"CRUNCH!" a knife point suddenly materialized within an inch of Dearka's head, having been thrown halfway through the door from the inside. "That's your final warning! Leave me alone or god help me I'll pin your head to the wall, Uncle Vladimir or no Uncle Vladimir!" Ysak yelled from inside his room. He sounded hoarse. Dearka just stared at the shiny combat knife blade located in startling proximity to his head. He let his hand drop and started to shiver slightly before quickly rolling away from the door.

"A… a little to the side… and… and he'd have put that… that… through the side of my HEAD!" Dearka whimpered.

"I guess we know who's been throwing knives." Athrun noted in a whisper.

"But why? Has Ysak gone totally off the deep end?" Sai asked worriedly.

"I don't know. But we should be very careful. None of us needs to get a knife embedded in our heads tonight." Kira answered.

"Why is he talking about that guy Vladimir?" Dearka muttered.

"Who?" Sai asked absently.

"That guy that Kisaka almost shot at the airport the first day we were here." Athrun explained. Dearka punched one fist into his other palm.

"That's IT!" he said triumphantly. The others looked at him questioningly. "Vladimir is the guardian of those two hellion girls. The twins that have the thing for Ysak. They seem to have a knack for coming around here when the rest of us leave Ysak alone. They must have come by when we were out shopping." Dearka explained quickly.

Athrun looked doubtful. "Those twin girls picked the lock on our door and created that mess downstairs?" he asked, incredulous. Kira looked at him and gave a slight chuckle. "What?' Athrun asked.

"You date Cagalli but still doubt the ability of a girl to pick a lock or break into an apartment and create a mess like what we saw? Are you sure you really spend time with my sister?" Kira replied. Athrun's face heated.

"Okay. So now we know whom Ysak THINKS we are. Now… how do we open the door without getting killed?" Sai mused. Dearka stood up and squared his shoulders.

"Leave it to me!" he said, striding to within a few paces of the door. Everyone else ducked for cover again. "HEY YSAK!" Dearka called. "YSAK! It's me, DEARKA! You okay in there?" Dearka shouted, making sure to emphasize his name.

"Dearka?" Ysak's voice replied through the door. "You alone?" Ysak asked almost immediately afterwards, his voice suspicious.

"Well, except for Kira, Athrun and Sai, yes." Dearka replied.

"Prove it." Ysak demanded. Dearka rolled his eyes.

"How?" he asked. "If I try to open the door, you'll probably put a knife through my left eye in your current mental state. And there's no way I can prove to you that it's just me and the others without opening the door."

Ysak seemed to consider that for a while. "I guess it's a stalemate then. Unless you want to trust me when I tell you I won't throw a knife at you, Dearka."

"Will you be throwing any other heavy, sharp or metallic object with the intent to harm?" Dearka asked. The very long silence that followed answered that question. "Stalemate it is." Dearka sighed. "You okay in there, Ysak?" Dearka asked again.

"Sort of." Ysak replied.

"You're injured?" Athrun asked in shock.

"Not physically, not really. Just some bruises, scratches and scrapes." Ysak told him.

"You're frightened of those two girls?" Kira asked.

"You would be too, if they tried to do to you what they attempted to do to me." Ysak answered. Dearka noted that Ysak hadn't denied being afraid of them.

"What were they trying to do? What happened? Downstairs is wrecked and there's a carving knife through the hallway door." Sai asked.

"Sorry about that. The girls don't understand "NO!" as an answer. I pushed Katie out the door when she tried to tear my bathrobe off me. She tried to get back in and I threw the knife at the door, hoping to scare her off. She cried out and I was scared I had actually hit her. She tricked me into opening the door again and that's when she tackled me. That's how the downstairs got wrecked, because she and I wrestled all over it, me trying to get away, her trying to strip me naked and search me for "Interesting stuff"." Ysak replied. The four guys out in the hall digested that for a while, trying to formulate an image of Ysak in a bathrobe grappling with a sixteen year old girl long enough to cause the havoc they had seen downstairs.

"It took you that long to get free?" Athrun asked in surprise.

"What were you doing, fighting with your arms tied behind your back?" Dearka added. "I mean, she's just a Natural, while you're an elite ZAFT soldier and a Coordinator." Dearka pointed out. "No offense." He added to Sai.

"Katie might just have been a Natural, but I'd like to meet her unarmed combat instructor and shake his hand. The man must have been a god. She knew a counter for every move I tried and nearly pinned me on six separate occasions. If I hadn't improvised using the furniture and kitchen supplies, she would have had me. Also added to the fact that I didn't want to cause her any serious injury, all told that's what made the fight so long." Ysak explained.

"Are you saying that this girl, Katie, is a martial arts expert good enough to hold off a Coordinator, even one trying to only subdue her?" Athrun asked, trying to set things straight in his mind.

"They're both that way, actually. While Katie was committing a minor sexual assault against me downstairs, Chanel was looting my room. She hacked into my computer, downloaded a lot of my personal files, carefully searched through all my clothes, unmade and examined my bed in minute detail and was just getting into my memento collection when I burst in on her. I had managed to hog tie Katie using the belt of my bathrobe and so had a bit of free time. No sooner did I put a hand on Chanel's shoulder that she judo tossed me over her shoulder and onto the ground. She almost put me in an arm bar before I started fighting back. I managed to drive her out of the room eventually by improvising a sling out of a pillowcase and using it to hurl some of those large metal ball bearings I took out of the Duel's destroyed legs. Those are those holes in the ceiling over the stairway. I've been barricaded in my room ever since. They've tried to get in four times since then. I'm nearly out of things to throw." Ysak responded.

"Well, why don't you come out of there so we can start cleaning things up? If the girls see the room like this, they're going to freak out." Dearka said in exasperation. Silence ensued.

"What girls are you talking about?" Ysak said in a suspicious tone. "You wouldn't be trying to lure me out into THEIR clutches, would you?"

Dearka sighed. "Look, I meant Mir, Cagalli and Lacus. Nobody else is here. You don't have to come out, but you'll need to eat sometime. We'll be waiting for you downstairs when you are ready. We'll be trying to clean up this disaster area."

-------------------------------

Ysak edged his way down the staircase. He had his pillowcase sling in one hand, with a ball bearing already nestled inside. His other hand was raised defensively in front of him. Ysak looked all around, checking every corner, nook and cranny to make sure someone wasn't planning to leap out at him. The clean up was proceeding slowly. Not because of lack of effort on the part of the cleaners, but because the room had really been devastated. It was a miracle nothing had been broken.

"Glad to see you decided to join us." Dearka called from across the room. "You can go pull that carving knife out of the door. I don't know how we're going to explain the damage to the landlord, but I'm sure we'll think of something."

Ysak stalked over to the door and yanked the knife out with a single heave, shedding splinters of wood and paint onto the jeans and t-shirt he had hurriedly pulled on after barricading the door to his room. After returning the knife to its proper location, Ysak slowly put down his sling and helped fix things up. With five people working, the job was done in three hours. By this time it was close to 3:00 am. Everyone was yawning and casting wistful glances at the stairs up to the bedrooms.

"Whew! Now we can finally get some sleep so we can work on our costumes early in the morning tomorrow. By the way, Ysak, are you coming to the party?" Dearka said, leaning against a wall tiredly.

"If you choose to stay here then you'll be all by yourself." Sai put in, from his seat on the newly righted couched. Ysak's jaw twitched slightly.

"I'm coming with you guys. You will NOT leave me alone. Not unless you give me the Duel back first." Ysak informed everyone.

"Sorry, but all our Mobile Suits, as well as all three ships, are undergoing repairs at Orb right now. They'll be out of reach for the near future." Athrun replied.

"You don't have a costume though, Ysak." Kira noted. Ysak just smiled.

"Don't you worry about that. I'll handle myself." Ysak replied confidently. Soon afterwards, they all filed upstairs and fell onto their beds and slept like the dead.

"Kiraaa! Kiiirrraaa! KIRA!" somebody shook him back and forth uncomfortably. Kira blinked his eyes and then shut them again before turning over and pulling his sheets up around himself again.

"Wha… col… seepy…lemealon." Kira mumbled, noticing the unpleasant sensation of cold air on his uncovered chest and legs.

"DEARKA! DEARKA!" another voice called from not too far away. Kira found it puzzling though, because the voice seemed to be coming from above him. Someone started shaking him again, before suddenly flinging his sheets away and sitting down full on his legs. The person placed small, cold and bare feet on either side of his stomach and leaned forward so that their long pink colored hair fell around all sides of his head, blocking out the painful light in the room.

"It's 6:00 am, Kira, time to wake up." The person sitting on his lap said brightly. Kira felt his lower body starting to get really warm from the soft weight sitting on it.

"Ummm." Kira groaned, trying to shake off his weariness. He cracked open one eye. And found himself staring into Lacus's face. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually connected seeing Lacus's face above him with the soft weight sitting on his supine lap. Kira opened the other eye. Lacus was dressed in her nightclothes, which consisted of loose light pink trousers and oversized t-shirt. She suddenly shifted her seating slightly and giggled. Kira finally woke up to the realization that while his mind may not have been working all that well, certain other parts of his body were responding with more than their customary attentiveness to this situation. The reaction whichfore had caused Lacus to move and giggle in a manner that did not help the situation at all.

"LACUS! What the…" Kira raised his head so quickly that he inadvertently banged his head into hers, sending her tumbling backwards and sideways, right off his lap and indeed the rest of the bed, ending up tangled in his bed sheets on the floor. Kira rubbed his forehead ruefully and blinked down at Lacus, who was lying on her back doing a similar thing. "You have a hard head." Kira noted. He tried to sit up straighter but a sudden wave of dizziness brought on by the banging of heads and tiredness brought on by only getting two hours and a few minutes of sleep combined to drag him down and sideways, so that he fell out of bed. Directly onto Lacus. After squirming for a while, he managed to raise himself onto his arms and knees, straddling her.

"I guess we switched positions." Lacus said, still rubbing her head. "I guess I should have known better than to lean over you like that." She commented.

"No, no, it was my fault. I shouldn't have jumped like that. It… It's just… well, I was surprised. Didn't expect to wake up with you sitting on me. I'm sorry for banging heads. And for other things." Kira whispered, turning deep red. Lacus raised her head slowly.

"For what other things?" She breathed mischievously. "You mean for that little hello your body sent me…" Lacus began, turning Kira even redder.

"You know, that's a position I'd only think to see Athrun in." Dearka commented from the upper bunk. Mir had woken him up by pinching his cheeks and then holding his nose closed while kissing him, rendering him unable to breathe. He'd had the choice of waking up or suffocating. "Usually he and Cagalli are the forward ones."

"You're not one to talk." Mir informed him from her post sitting on the foot edge of the bed. "At least Kira has shorts on. Unlike some people I could name." She hinted broadly. Dearka lifted the corner of his sheets and peeked underneath. He choked slightly.

"I'll be damned. How did that happen?" he asked, pulling the sheet down tight again.

"We must have been so tired from cleaning up last night that we didn't bother to change into sleeping clothes. I can't remember much more than a blur anyway." Kira replied.

"Wait a minute… how did you know I was shortless?" Dearka asked suspiciously. Miriallia just looked at him and smiled. "You didn't!" Dearka exclaimed, paling slightly.

"What if I did? It's not like you've got anything to hide, do you?" Mir told him wickedly.

"You didn't" Dearka repeated nervously. "Cagalli might, but you wouldn't." he tried to reassure himself.

"I've been trying to act more like Cagalli these days. She does a lot of things I admire." Mir replied, still teasing him. _I almost wish I had peeked._ She thought to herself. She blushed almost as soon as she thought it. _What kind of thought was THAT? I've only been dating him for five days and already I want to peek at his nude body? What's happening to me? I didn't think my hormones were this strong._

Dearka looked around the room and his eyes narrowed. "You looked through my drawers and saw that my night clothes were still folded up. Then you noticed that the clothes I was wearing yesterday are scattered all over the ground. You didn't peek. You just used the evidence to guess." He accused her. Mir sighed and nodded.

"Dang, I was hoping you wouldn't figure it out." She complained.

"Hey honey, I am a Coordinator." Dearka replied. She stiffened slightly at his familiarity but then relaxed. Was it really all that bad that an attractive guy called her "honey"? Mir was sure that many other girls had nearly swooned when Dearka called them that. Maybe she should start taking it like the compliment she knew it was, rather than the insult she had once thought it to be.

"Far as I'm concerned, you're just a guy. A naked one at that. And one I happen to like." Mir responded simply. "Now, my guy, you are going to get dressed so we can start building our costumes like we agreed last night. We only have eleven hours till the party."

"Your guy?" Dearka asked with wide eyes. Mir grinned and leaned to the side so she fell over, lying kitty-corner across him. She turned her head so that it was facing his ear. Under her his body was warm, hard and well defined, like sun-warmed wood. She forced herself not to think about it.

"Yes. MINE." She repeated, whispering in his ear so only he could hear.

"What did you mean, about cleaning up last night?" Lacus asked Kira as he helped her to her feet after standing himself.

"Oh, just a little mess Ysak created." Kira said absently, trying not to give too much away. He yawned in a jaw cracking manner. Two and a half hours of sleep wasn't at all helpful. He shambled over to his clothing drawer and started to undress, pausing only at the last moment in realization that Lacus and Mir still hadn't left the room. "Out!" he ordered sternly, pointing at the door.

"No free shows today?" Lacus mock whined. Kira shuddered inwardly. She was hanging out with Cagalli too much, starting to pick up some of her wild and whimsical streaks. Not to mention her lack of inhibitions.

"Kira has a point. Since you did NOT peek, that means you don't get a freebie. Kira and I still have dignity to preserve. So you can wait outside. Besides, if you got to look, it wouldn't be very fair to deny US the same privilege, would it?" Dearka added. Quicker than two hares the girls sped out of the room and shut the door. "Typical girls. Always wanting to see you vulnerable but not wanting to be seen vulnerable at the same time." Dearka stated and chuckled.

----------------------------

It didn't take all that long to get dressed. Most of their clothes would be covered by the costumes they were wearing anyway, so they dressed in comfortable and light clothing that could form a base to put the costumes over. Once they got out into the hall, Kira was dismayed to see Lacus examining Ysak's door. 'Kira… why is there a small hole in Ysak's door?" Lacus asked.

"Heck, why are holes in the ceiling over the stairs?" Mir asked from the other end of the hall. "These weren't here yesterday morning. What happened last night?"

"Long story. No time. Ask Ysak for details." Dearka summed up. Both girls gave him sour looks. Getting details out of Ysak was like trying to get money out of a bank without the proper account code and identification. As in, impossible. The door to Athrun's room opened and Sai half stumbled out, yawning.

"I'll go and make some coffee." He volunteered. Everyone thanked him. Warship coffee had been all that had woken them up in time for some battles. Dearka stopped the door to Athrun's room from shutting. Unlike Kira's and his room, Athrun's was still quite dark. Dearka kept the door open a slit and peered in.

"I can't believe he has the energy to do that." Dearka muttered. Kira tried to get a look but Dearka kept hogging the space. "I mean, the guy has slept three hours tops out of the last twenty four, put in a full day of school, then a long ass shopping trip, then did some work around the house. He must have a nuclear powered heart and muscle system. Though from what I've seen so far, Cagalli could give life and stamina to a dead man." Dearka commented. Kira tried to push him out of the way again, this time to shut the door. Dearka wouldn't budge, his eye glued to the cracked open door.

"What are you doing" Miriallia asked, annoyed. _Am I actually feeling jealous?_ She asked herself.

"Taking notes." Dearka replied. "So I can get it right, when we try." He continued. Mir flushed again.

"You can't be serious. They aren't…" she trailed off. Kira turned pale and nearly succeeded in getting Dearka away from the door; though this time he was trying to get inside so he could pull Athrun off HIS sister.

"They aren't, don't worry. They may be lustful, but they've got the sense not to take THAT step so soon." Dearka replied. He took his eye away from his spy post and eased the door shut. He waited for Kira to start calming down before continuing. "Though they were getting pretty close. I'd give 'em a few more weeks together before Sai has to sleep elsewhere for the night."

Kira looked sick and had to lean on Lacus for support. Miriallia gave Dearka a significant look, which kept him cowed until they got downstairs and had started drinking the coffee Sai had made. After about ten minutes, Cagalli and Athrun joined them, both smiling secret little looks at each other than no one missed.

"Is Ysak going to join us?" Lacus asked.

"He said he'd be coming, but that he'd take care of his own costume." Dearka replied.

"Well, then, let's get started!" Cagalli cried happily, digging into the bags of costume materials and handing them about indiscriminately. Within three hours, the general groupings became distinct. It was no surprise to any concerned that each couple had complimentary or similar costumes. By the time the costumes were ready, only three hours remained before the start of the party. Athrun and Cagalli displayed a level of daring far greater than anyone expected, even of them, and adopted the costume choices of a Barbarian warrior for thousands of years ago and a Valkyrie from Norse mythology respectively. Athrun wore a shaggy loincloth of faux bear fur, with knee high fur mountaineering boots, thick brown leather wristbands with polished brass studs and a mantle of fake wolf fur. A plastic but exceedingly real looking two-handed sword was slung across his back. A red silk ribbon around his brow tied back his hair, the dangling ends making him look roguish. Everywhere else he went bare skinned, since he already had more than enough chest and other muscle to be proud of. He was a bit too thin to really pull off the look, but everyone agreed he did look intimidating.

Cagalli on the other hand, went with the somewhat unrealistic but completely jaw dropping chainmail and leather bikini outfit. She too wore calf high mountaineering boots with fur linings and thinner leather bracers without the brass studs. She wore a plastic short sword at each hip and a well faked horned helmet on her wildly mussed hair. Combined with Athrun there was enough bare skin visible to make a whole new person, but that was soon fixed with the application of some war paint. Athrun chose blue and red paint, in abstract lines all over his face and chest. Cagalli chose red and green paint, and drew mostly runic letters she looked up on the internet onto her arms, legs and cheeks.

While they were painting themselves and each other, Lacus and Sai helped Kira don his plastic armor. Kira had chosen to be a knight in shining armor, which pleased Lacus to no end. The armor only weighed about twenty pounds all told, and made the most wonderful creaking and clanking noises when Kira moved. It was covered in faux gold inlay and studded with paste glass gems. The outfit was completed by a helmet with the visor removed, also inlaid with false gold and fake gems, and sporting a long silk plume of a dark green color trailing from the top. Also a plastic sword like Athrun's but sized for one handed use hung at Kira's left hip.

Lacus, unsurprisingly enough, chose to dress as a princess, in a practically glowing pink gown and hoop skirt, which caused her to trip several times when she tried to run too fast. She had a tall pink cone hat with white silk streamers coming out of the top. Finally, there was a small silver circlet around her brow, one of her hair ornaments. After helping Kira, Lacus then helped Sai get ready. Sai was a history aficionado and was currently studying the Napoleonic wars, and had so chosen to dress up as a cavalryman from Napoleon's army. He had tight breeches of a stained white color, a blue overcoat rife with ribbons, braids of yellow rope and badges of rank. A pelisse, which was like a short cloak worn over one shoulder so that it covered one side of your body, front and back, was worn on his right shoulder. A plastic saber was hung on his left hip. Sai also attached two blond mustachios and a short goatee with some sticky gum like substance designed for that purpose. All in all, most everyone agreed that he was the most dashing looking so far.

Dearka had stumbled across an ancient flat video movie while out looking through the town. Upon finally finding a way to watch the ancient tape, he had become hooked on the movie. It was called "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade". Dearka had decided to become Indiana Jones. He had acquired a lot of battered but still clean clothing in various shades of brown and white. Over the shirts and sturdy trousers he wore a faded and worn leather bomber jacket with a wide brimmed leather fedora on his head. He coiled an actual rawhide leather bullwhip at his waist, though he had no clue how to use it. A pistol holster rode on the right side of his body, inside the jacket, but the pistol inside was disgustingly fake, designed only to look like a handle. He looked extremely rugged when all his costume was on. Best of all, it was quite comfortable, unlike Kira's armor, which quickly grew hot and sweaty, or Athrun's loincloth, which quickly started itching.

Miriallia had likewise taken a page out of ancient history. She had researched famous female explorers of long ago the moment she learned that Dearka was planning on being an adventuresome archaeologist. She had chosen Kitty Mannock, a little known Australian woman who set several world records flying ancient prop driven biplanes several hundred years ago. For her costume she wore sturdy but comfortable clothing much like Dearka, with a leather flight jacket, aviator goggles on her head, a leather helmet/ear warmer and a bright blue scarf, which was a personal affectation. She wore supple leather gloves on her hands, but did not carry any weapons, since Kitty Mannock was an explorer, not an adventurer.

Everyone was gathered around, comparing and adjusting their costumes, when Ysak came down the stairs, already dressed. People turned to congratulate him on his costume, but instead everyone just stared in shock. Ysak was no medieval knight or explorer. He wasn't flashily dressed or scantily clad. He just wore his red elite ZAFT uniform, with full dress honors, including medals, campaign ribbons and other decorations, all of which he had actually earned. His service pistol rode on his left hip.

"You can't be serious." Dearka said warily, eyeing the pistol, which, knowing Ysak, was certainly loaded.

"You can't show up in a ZAFT uniform! People will freak out! And especially not armed!" Athrun declared.

"There aren't supposed to be any ZAFT forces in Switzerland. Showing up like that to a party at a high profile person's estate could cause great political damage." Lacus said in a serious voice.

"So go change! With luck we can whip something up for you in the next hour or so before we have to leave." Cagalli ordered.

"No… I don't think I will." Ysak said calmly. He sat down on the couch in a relaxed manner. "You see, like Ms. Clyne pointed out, there AREN'T any ZAFT forces in Switzerland. Not a single soldier. So if I show up like this, people will just assume it's a costume. Maybe not a very politically correct one, but a costume nonetheless. As for my gun, it's strictly for show. I left it unloaded. It's no more dangerous than those absurd swords you have armed yourselves with… less so actually, since you can still swing those hard enough to hurt."

"That… makes sense. Sort of." Sai allowed.

"Besides, a really smart girl once told us that we should stop hiding from what we are. We can't go through life pretending we are something we aren't just to avoid causing others discomfort." Kira said, nodding at Cagalli.

"So we should just let him dress that way, and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be, when they arrive?" Lacus asked.

"Exactly. A ZAFT soldier is what Ysak is. If other people choose to see it as a disguise, well so much the better. If not, then Ysak shouldn't have to hide who he is because it will upset them. Besides, we'll all be there to get through it together." Kira replied. Lacus leaned against his armored form, taking comfort in his close presence.

"We should get going." Ysak said.

"Yeah. Her mansion is a ways away. And it never hurts to be early." Dearka said. He then offered Mir his arm. "Shall we go, then?"


	9. Vanai's Mansion

"The guests will be here soon." Vanai's eternally cold and bitchy voice echoed down to Ray from the balcony of the main banquet hall. "Please make sure that your people are in their positions. I can't tell you how much of an inconvenience this whole thing is. Why you have to lure them here to kill her is beyond me." she continued. "I'm going to finish getting ready. Maybe I'll be able to have a little fun with the other guests while you and your brutes do what brutes do. Oh yes… once you're done, send Zacharis to me. I will make good use of him." Vanai finished, her voice trailing off as she walked away.

Ray sneered and checked the action of his silenced pistol, which was tucked inside his suit coat. For the party he was masquerading as James Bond, the famous British super-spy from several centuries ago. Though, of course, his weapon was no costume fake. The plan was good, he reminded himself. _Though I really hate working with Vanai. She's an evil and twisted little bitch, that's for sure. Though I never knew before now what a nympho she was_._ She calls Zacharis to her quarters twice a night at least, and_ _often more than that. What does she see in that monster? What has he got that I don't?_ Ray asked himself, finally getting down to the root of his anger. He was pissed that Vanai, just about the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen, was having Zacharis Frost plow her belly twice a night or more, but she would barely even give him, Ray Sark, the time of day. Ray wondered viciously if Cervantes Zunnichi knew what a whore his little girl really was.

Ray shook his head and went on his rounds, making sure everyone was in place for the mission. Several hundred students from Vanai's school had been invited, to serve as cover for the real guests, those being Lacus Clyne and her party. The students would be separated into several groups after some dancing and dining, and sent out to the grounds for games. However, the games of Lacus and her friends would take place in the estate forest, and would be of a decidedly fatal persuasion. Killing both Lacus and all her friends didn't bother Ray. Those who befriended a Coordinator were nearly as bad as the Coordinator itself, in his mind. They deserved to die, to serve as an example to those who would pursue their folly.

Twenty of the more fanatical and proficient Blue Cosmos soldiers had arrived earlier in the day. Each was dressed as an angel for the party and would nominally serve to give directions to bathrooms and carry coats and the like. However, each was armed with a silenced pistol at all times, and there was a large stash of submachine guns out in the woods, just waiting to be used. They would make sure the targets did not leave or otherwise get missed by Ray, Zacharis and Amy.

Next Ray took an electric golf cart out to the clearing in the woods where the killing would take place. It was far enough away from everything else that any noise could be explained away as fireworks or animals. Amy Sihov was in costume at the center of the clearing, stirring a pot of greenish sludge. She was garbed as a wicked witch, with a long warty nosepiece and sallow, greenish skin. A wig provided stringy white hair, while tattered black clothing and peaked hat completed the look. The stare she gave him made Ray feel decidedly nervous as he got out of the cart.

"What's in the pot?" he asked, deciding not to be humorous.

"Melted plastic, sewage, a few freshly killed animals from Zacharis, some water." She replied. Ray shivered slightly.

"He's been doing the animals again?" he asked, slightly disturbed. Zacharis was supposed to be sedated and unconscious whenever he was not directly needed. But now he seemed to be getting resistant to the sedation drugs.

"Wrings their necks or skins them alive usually. Sometimes he just bites their heads off, or twists off a limb and watches them bleed to death." Amy reported, which didn't make Ray feel better.

"Why hasn't he killed Vanai yet then?" Ray said, only realizing afterwards he had been thinking out loud.

"She chains him to the bed and screws the hate out of him. She gets beaten bloody during the process, but he always climaxes before he can get his arms around her neck. Even Zacharis isn't any more capable after sex than any other male." Amy said with a shrug. "That gives her time to get away and off him, and gives him enough time to get rational again. Or less crazy anyway. That's the only way to do it with him. You gotta go fast, hard and heavy, or else he'll get your neck in his grasp and it's all over. He don't really care if you're dead or alive, after all. I know." Amy commented. Ray believed her. She had been Zacharis's lover before the transformation upgrades, and even for a little while afterwards. She knew him better than the scientists did.

"Just make sure you're ready when the time comes. With any luck, the mine in the bottom of that witch brew will take most of them out or disable them so Zacharis and I can finish them off." Ray ordered. Amy sketched a salute with no real feeling behind it. She started to stare at him like he was a freshly bleeding side of beef, so he touched her kill switch just obviously enough to get her to get back to her absent minded stirring of the sludge. Ray climbed back into the cart and sped off again, glad to put her behind him but dreading his next meeting even more. Ray drove to the front drive area of the manor. Zacharis Frost, in full Grim Reaper regalia, stood like a blot of dark madness against the pale wood of the double doors that lead into the main hall of the manor.

Zacharis's costume consisted of a voluminous robe of heavy black cloth, complete with hood, that he wore draped entirely around himself. The hood was so expansive it covered his entire face in deep shadow, except if you shone light directly into his face. Not that that would help much, since his entire face and upper neck was covered by a bone white skull mask that looked disturbingly lifelike but was actually just a prop, to Ray's relief. With Zacharis's dark eyes, it was usually impossible to tell where he was looking while in his costume, but Ray could feel the others gaze on him as he climbed the steps towards Frost. The culmination of Frost's outfit was his scythe, which was made of hard oak stained black as night by Frost's own hand. The blade was made of military grade titanium-steel, sharpened by lasers to a molecule thin edge and had been hand forged by Frost himself as well. Ray had seen Frost chop down an oak tree one foot in diameter with a single swing of his homemade weapon. Of course, Frost also carried a large caliber revolver under his robe somewhere. It wasn't loaded yet, and wouldn't be until the time was right, or else Frost would invariably use it on somebody.

"You know what to do?" Ray asked once he reached Frost's position.

"I greet the guests. Welcome them to the costume party. Tell them to go inside. Kill Pink when the time comes. It's simple." Zacharis responded dryly.

"Her name is Lacus Clyne, not "Pink". And we're also killing her companions, anyone who is near her when she arrives. Make sure you remember that, Frost. None can escape. They all have to die." Ray commanded.

"Pink suits her better. Girls quickly forget their names when Frost gets them. Pink applies not only to her hair, but also to her wonderful bloody flesh and all those tight spots that Frost so loves to explore. So Pink she is. Pink, Pink, Pink!" Zacharis said, singing the last three words sweetly. "They all will die." Frost promised, his voice turning to that of a bloodthirsty beast. "Will chop em, slice em, gash em, and cut em… all into tiny little pieces. Then…" Ray held up a hand to stop Frost. He didn't want to know what Frost would do with minced up bodies.

"Once we're done with the mission, Ms. Vanai has requested your presence." Ray said distantly.

"She likes what Frost does to her, doesn't she? You think she's disgusting for what she does with me." Frost noted, his voice changing inflection again, becoming analytical. "You're jealous of Frost, Ray. You want Frost to kill her, choke her, destroy her, because it is Frost who she cries out to, not you. Maybe I'll get my arms around her tonight. Then you won't have to be jealous any more."

"Shut up, Zacharis." Ray snarled, feeling uncomfortable. He took out Zacharis's kill switch. "Just shut up, or I'll push this button."

"Would you, really?" Frost asked. Ray decided not to answer and stalked inside, shivering in a cold sweat. As he did so, the guests began to arrive.

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"This place is huge!" Miriallia noted after the taxi dropped her, Dearka, Athrun and Cagalli off at the entrance to Vanai Zunnichi's estate. Athrun just shrugged and Cagalli didn't seem that impressed either. But considering that their parents were both former heads of state, it was a good bet that this wasn't all that impressive to them or at the very least wasn't something new to them. Dearka was suitably awed, just like she was though. She wondered about that for a moment, since Dearka's father was a PLANT councilman too, but then she remembered that Dearka had been practically banned from his family after he joined the military. Probably not a happy memory.

The taxi with Kira, Lacus, Sai and Ysak pulled up and they quickly climbed out of the vehicle. As the taxi pulled away, Kira stared in amazement at the size of the house as well. It must have had at least sixty rooms divided among three floors. The property looked to be square miles in size, with its own lake, small forest and plenty of open grassland. A small convoy of electric gas carts were ferrying arriving guests from the finely wrought iron gates up the long winding drive to the manor itself. Another taxi pulled up behind the group and they moved aside to let the new arrivals out. Two instantly recognizable people in instantly recognizable uniforms climbed out.

"No… it can't be." Ysak moaned. Everyone else just stared as Chanel and Katie bustled up to Ysak, smiles on their faces. They were each dressed in the uniform of an Earth Forces Lieutenant, exact in detail down to the folds in the clothing and the placement of decorations and rank insignia. They both wore pistol holsters on their right hips.

"What are you two doing here?" Ysak demanded, edging away from them, his hand dropping to HIS weapon. The girls lost their smiles and looked a bit… penitent.

"Raine and Uncle Vladimir made us promise to apologize to you, Ysak-y, for how we acted last night." Katie said contritely.

"Yes. It wasn't right of us to break into your room and search through your personal stuff like that." Chanel added.

"We hope you can forgive our presumption, but every other guy we've been around has never minded when we showed up when all their friends were gone. We weren't being considerate of your feelings." Katie said on her turn.

"We're really sorry, Ysak-y. Can you forgive us?" Chanel asked.

"Really sorry. Please?" Katie added her voice. Both girls looked at Ysak with puppy dog sad eyes and contrite expressions. Ysak was strong, and pissed off… but no sixteen year old guy was that strong or pissed off. Not over something that Ysak, deep within himself, had actually, on some level, enjoyed.

"I forgive you." Ysak mumbled, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Dearka nudged Mir and smirked.

"He's such a softie at heart. Well, maybe not his "heart" per se." He whispered. Mir just nodded, wide eyed at seeing the irascible Ysak gentled by the words and expressions of the two girls. They both now wore radiant smiles and launched themselves at him giggling. Each one grabbed an arm and held it tightly. Ysak looked very uncomfortable.

"I'll ask again though, what are you two doing here?" Ysak said, trying to shake loose, to absolutely no effect.

"Going to the party with you."

"To protect our interests."

Ysak winced. "That's right, you two forged a copy of my invitation. What did you uncle and sister think of THAT?"

"They thought it was really clever actually."

"Yeah, we couldn't have done it without using Raine's software or Uncle Vladimir replicating Vanai's signature."

"They just warned us not to do it very often, because once someone sees through a forgery, you can't do it again for a long time."

"But enough about prep work, aren't you going to escort us to the party?"

Sai sidled over to a spot between Dearka, Athrun and Kira. "Jeez… it's like tag team wrestling. I'm getting a neck ache just looking back and forth between them when they talk. Most guys would probably be confused enough by them that he'd do whatever they asked just in the hopes that things would start slowing down and making sense."

"Oh, Ysak's plenty confused." Dearka replied out of the side of his mouth. "He wants things to slow down too. But he's really resistant, because he doesn't much like the idea of Natural's as girlfriends. He thinks Athrun and I have gone a bit daft somewhere, because of Mir and Cagalli. But now of course, here he is falling for not one but two Natural girls at the same time. His mind's probably like a whirlpool right now." Dearka explained.

"Is it possible for a guy to fall in love with two girls… twin sisters no less, at the same time?" Kira asked, astounded.

"I guess so. Especially if they love him too. Though unless the sisters got along perfectly, I wouldn't think the relationship would be very stable." Athrun replied.

"What… you don't think you could fall in love if Cagalli had an identical twin sister with a similar personality?" Dearka asked with a grin. Athrun shook his head immediately.

"No. The thought of two Cagalli's is pretty scary. I assume it's the same for you guys, with Mir and Lacus." Athrun answered. Dearka and Kira nodded. They were just fine with just ONE girlfriend.

"Come on, stop dawdling or we're going to be LATE!" Cagalli called from the pick up point of the golf carts. The guys hustled over and everyone was quickly transported up to the house proper. After composing themselves and readjusting their costumes, they headed up the grand staircase. At the top, a figure with a scythe and dark hooded robe, obviously meant to be the Grim Reaper, was greeting people and directing them inside.

"Anybody else find it a bit ominous that the Grim Reaper is doing admissions?" Dearka remarked. Mir elbowed him in the side to shut him up as she rushed up to be the first to present invitations. She handed the rather short Grim Reaper hers and Dearka's invitations. The man merely glanced at them before studying hers and Dearka's faces as if memorizing them.

"You may pass. Take the third right hand door. That is the door that leads to the dancing and banquet hall. Just follow the directions of the angels." Frost told them, making a note of their costumes so he could find them later that night. Frost also memorized the look of Athrun, Cagalli, Sai, Ysak, Chanel and Katie. However, when Lacus and Kira presented their invitations, he couldn't stop himself from staring at her. Pink was here, standing right in front of him. His grip tightened on the staff of the scythe. All it would take was a single swing and the humiliation of her slap on his cheek would be washed away in her life's blood. Her annoying little boyfriend wouldn't be able to stop him. Frost had already shown he was faster and stronger than the other. But no… better to take the time to do it right, later. It would be infinitely more enjoyable. Frost repeated his directions again.

"Was it just me or did was that guy staring at me the entire time he was checking our invitations?" Lacus asked as she and Kira hurried inside.

"Oh, he was staring all right. And I know why." Kira replied.

"Really, why?" Lacus asked, curious.

"Because I have the most beautiful girl in the world as my date." Kira told her. Lacus felt her cheeks heat up and felt her heart flutter most pleasurably in her chest.

"Why, Mr. Yamato, sometimes you say the most romantic things." She demurred.

"I guess I did learn something from hanging out with Athrun and Dearka then." Kira commented as they followed the straggling trail of guests into the dancing hall and banquet area. The room was huge, easily able to accommodate the hundred plus guests already there. About ten or so older men and women, dressed as angels, circulated throughout the crowd, carrying trays of drinks and snacks. Kira and Lacus caught up with their friends and Kira managed to snag two glasses of what tasted like cherry flavored carbonated water.

"AND NOW… YOUR GRACIOUS HOST!" one of the angels announced in a stentorian voice. Descending down a wide staircase from an upper balcony was Vanai Zunnichi. She was dressed in what could accurately be called a royal outfit, as her costume was that of a Queen from the Renaissance times. She had no escort, which had every unattached guy in the room drooling with glee. As she slowly stepped down the stairs the room went quieter and quieter, until, by the time she reached the floor, there was absolute silence.

"Well, what are you all standing around for?" Vanai asked primly. "This is a party, after all. We're supposed to have fun." With those words loud music started playing from hidden speakers and the lights started dimming.

"She knows how to make an entrance." Sai noted. Dearka just shrugged.

"Until she crashes through the back wall in a Mobile Suit and then climbs out holding an undisturbed iced drink, I'm not going to be impressed." He replied. A chuckle came from behind them. Dearka and Sai turned to see a man dressed in a high quality fashionable suit, with precisely trimmed hair and an artificially lined face. The young man held a martini glass in one hand.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Dearka asked.

"Shaken… not stirred." The man replied, as if speaking a code phrase. Seeing they had no idea what he meant he sighed. "Have you really not heard of James Bond?"

"No." Sai replied.

"He was a movie character from a few centuries ago. Spawned a whole series of spy-thrillers about his exploits." Ray Sark explained. "I'm Ray Sark. I'm in charge of the activities for this party." He introduced himself.

"I'm Dearka Elsman."

"I'm Sai Argyle."

"Argyle? Of the Heliopolis Argyle's?" Vanai asked curiously. She appeared from behind Ray like a monsoon of silk skirts and jewelry.

"Yes Ma'am. Though now my family lives on Earth." Sai replied politely, bowing in an elegant manner.

"Because of the horrid business during the war, yes. Please, will you come talk with me? It's so hard to find someone of similar class who has something real to talk about." Vanai asked. Sai looked doubtful until she slipped her arm through his, and then he started looking happy.

"I don't like her." Mir noted after Vanai had left. "She sounded so arrogant." Mir looked at Ray and touched her mouth in contrition. "I'm sorry, what a horrible thing to say about someone you work for."

Ray shrugged. "I don't mind. I often agree with you. And you are?" he asked.

"Miriallia Haw." Mir replied.

"Well, Miriallia… Dearka… if you'll excuse me, I have some preparations work to be done before the games are operational." Ray said, leaving to circulate around his real target, Lacus Clyne. Ray didn't know who her boyfriend was, but he had certainly picked the wrong date tonight. In a few hours, he'd be dead and buried… or whatever it was that Frost did with his victims. Ray glanced around at those he assumed to be Lacus's friends, since they had arrived with her and were chatting amiably with her and her boyfriend.

Two of them looked reasonably familiar for some reason, but Ray couldn't figure out why, because their disguises, that of a barbarian warrior and a Norse valkyrie were so complete that he couldn't get a good look at them. The war paint really messed his perceptions up. Then there was one guy with a mean looking and livid scar across the middle of his face, who was escorting twin girls, one on either arm. Ray was startled for a moment, because scar-face was wearing a ZAFT elite uniform. Ray shook his head. There were no ZAFT soldiers in Switzerland and no way for them to enter the country without someone knowing. Ray shook his head again, because both girls were in Earth Alliance uniforms. The three of them were like an analogy for the whole current situation. Two sluttish girls representing the Earth Alliance, sucking up to the strong ZAFT man, while he pretended not to pay attention. It was the world political situation at a glance. Ray just wondered where they had gotten their costumes, because, as far as he could tell, they were exact replicas of the real thing.

Just then, a slow song started and all the various couples started doing the slow swaying back and forth that teens called dancing, but was really just an excuse to hold your partner very close in public with nobody caring. Ray headed off to do a final prep check, but not before he saw, with more than a flash of jealousy, that Vanai and Sai were dancing together.

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"So, where are the girls?" Alkire asked as he stepped into the shared kitchen of the apartment that he, Raine, Victor and James shared. Vlad had his own place, in the basement of a run down hardware store a few blocks away. Raine looked up from the potatoes she was peeling and tossing into a pot of boiling water.

"They said they were going to a party, with a guy." Raine replied, continuing with the preparations for making mashed potatoes. Raine didn't add that the girls had had to steal an invitation from said guy and forge two copies using her and Vladimir's aid in order to go to the party.

"Really? A party… with a guy?" Alkire said, pouring himself a large glass of milk.

"Yeah, I was surprised too. They haven't been to a party with a guy… ever, come to think of it." Raine replied.

"Yeah, the guys always get scared off by the girls bragging about you and Vlad before the relationship can go somewhere." Alkire responded.

"Or scared off by the girls themselves. It's not every day you come across twin sisters who know combat martial arts, are marksmen with a pistol, and can hack into almost any computer database in the world if given a few hours." Raine mused.

"Ain't that the truth. So who is this guy? He must be made of iron." Alkire said, getting a packet of chicken legs out of the fridge.

"I actually haven't met him face to face yet. He was one of those people we saw at the airport with Kisaka. Vladimir knows who he is, but I can't get him to tell me anything more than the guy's name." Raine finished with the potatoes and moved on to cutting up broccoli for steaming.

"What's the guy's name then?" Alkire asked, after a few moments pause.

"Ysak Joule."

"Ysak? That's a strange name." Alkire noted.

"Says the guy named Alkire Majesty." Raine shot back.

"Good point. Guess I can't really talk." Alkire admitted. "So where is this party at?" he asked, removing the chicken legs and putting them in the marinade he had concocted the night before.

"At the estate of a girl named Vanai. Vanai something. I couldn't read the last name because the girl's invitation was smudged." Raine replied. As well it should have been, considering that Katie had found it in a pool of apple juice after wrestling it from Ysak's grip when the girls invaded his apartment yesterday night. "It's a real high class sort of place though. Games, food and drink provided, at a place called an Estate. I think the last name started with a "Z". Might have been Zuccini or Zunich or something." Raine said. Alkire went dead silent, his face a mask of concentration and worry. "What's wrong?" Raine asked.

"Could the name have been… Zunnichi?" Alkire asked in a tone full of dread. Raine frowned.

"You know, that does sound right. Vanai Zunnichi. Yes, that was the name. Why?"

"Can you think of any other people with the surname Zunnichi? People who might have had recent cause to not like us?" Alkire replied. Raine dropped her knife in horrified realization.

"Cervantes Zunnichi." She whispered.

"Yep. The new head of Blue Cosmos. His daughter goes to school around here. That's why Vlad chose this spot for our living quarters. He figured Cervantes would never think to look for us so close to his precious daughter." Alkire responded.

"There's no way he could have connected the girls to us." Raine said flatly. "We aren't relatives or anything. They're just two war orphans I picked up after our last formal mission. I couldn't bear to leave them behind in that hellhole."

"Hey, I know that, Raine. It might just be a coincidence. However…" Alkire said, trailing off.

"Coincidences can still get people killed." Raine finished. "Just like Instructor Kisaka said. I'm surprised you remembered that. You never paid attention in class." She commented. "I think it might just be a harmless coincidence though. The girls had to steal and forge an invitation from Ysak in order to go to the party."

"What about this Ysak guy? Does he check out?"

"Vlad's done a full background check on him, as you might expect. Vlad has no problems with him."

"For all that means. We both know Vlad tends to judge people in relation to himself. If Vlad had problems with a guy, that guy would have to be a mass murderer. For all we know, Ysak could be an agent of Cervantes, who is even now kidnapping the girls to use as shields against our attacks." Alkire said.

"Do you really believe that?"

"No… do you believe that we should take the chance though?"

"No."

"I'll go get Victor and James. We'll meet you at Vlad's place. You go there and get him up to speed. And let him know that I'm going to be really pissed if he okayed the girls to go out with a spy." Alkire decided. Raine saluted and ran off to get ready. She prayed that they were overreacting. _Coincidences can still get people killed._ Kisaka's words echoed in her head.

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"That last dance was wonderful." Cagalli told Athrun as they picked up a few snacks from a passing angel. "I didn't know you knew how to dance."

"Well, I did have to learn a few steps for when I was brought to important functions by my dad." Athrun explained. "I was actually more surprised that you knew how to dance."

"Hey, I'm not always a tomboy. I do like some girlish things." Cagalli retorted.

"Believe me, I know." Athrun said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, referring to her procedure for waking him up. He slid his hand around her waist, luxuriating in the feel of skin on skin. "You know, you should wear something like this more often. But in a different setting." Athrun advised.

Cagalli felt the heat rising to her face. _Is he suggesting I should parade around in my underwear? Should I? Or was he hinting at something else? Perhaps taking our relationship a step up? Or am I just reading too much into him?_ "I think we should go to the beach. Then you can get a tan. You'd look really great in a bikini, I think." Athrun was continuing. Cagalli breathe a sigh of mingled relief and disappointment. Strangely enough, she was both relieved that he hadn't meant that he wanted her to appear before him in lingerie, and disappointed that he wasn't yet ready for the next step. _Whoa… take it easy Cagalli. You've only been going out with him for a little more than two months. Is it any wonder he doesn't want to go THERE just yet? Get your hormones under control, girl. Athrun's not going anywhere and neither are you. You can take it easy. Have fun. No need to rush into things._

Cagalli promptly forgot that entire line of thinking when Athrun suddenly fell back a step and then stepped up behind her, putting both arms around her and pulling her back against his chest. The feel of nearly full body skin on skin contact drove her to distraction. "I think I like what you're wearing too. Though I'd also like to see it in a different setting." She half whispered-half panted. "Though don't you think you're being a little brazen?" the cautious side of her mind made her ask.

"Not really. Tonight I'm a barbarian. Brazenness is what they do. Besides, take a look around. We're pretty restrained by some standards." Athrun told her. Cagalli did as he bid and felt her eyes widening. Athrun was right. What some people were doing was downright lascivious.

"I guess I must be sheltered, but I never thought grinding at each other like that was acceptable behavior." She commented.

"Welcome to being a real teenager, I guess. Time to drop all your common sense and your inhibitions." Athrun said with a smile. They both shared a slight chuckle.

"No thanks." They said in unison.

"ATTENTION GUESTS! THE GAMES HAVE BEEN PREPARED. YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED TO GROUPS AND LED TO YOUR VARIOUS GAMING AREAS IN A FEW MINUTES. PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE SO WE CAN FIND YOU AND ASSIGN YOUR GROUPS." A man said over the PA system.

"I wonder what kind of games they have planned?" Cagalli said.

"I saw them setting up a VR chamber earlier. It looks a lot like the training aids they used at the PLANTS for mobile suit practice." Athrun replied.

"You shall not." Cagalli said adamantly. "We just got you through a war in which you did more than enough stuff in Mobile Suits. Last time you were in one you tried to kill yourself, albeit to save the world. I'm not going to let you within ten feet of a simulator. And that goes triple for Kira."

"Can't argue with you there, Cagalli." Athrun mumbled into her ear.

"Ahem…" a voice said from behind them. Athrun turned, but kept Cagalli in his arms, lifting her with little effort and swinging her around before placing her back down. The speaker wore a finely tailored suit and carried a comlink in his hand. "I'm Ray Sark, director of the games tonight." The man introduced himself. "I'd like you to come with me so we can put you with your friends. They are waiting for you outside." Athrun and Cagalli complied, soon joining Kira, Lacus, Mir, Dearka, Ysak and the twins outside.

"Where's Sai?" Kira asked.

"Last time I saw him, he was the center of attention." Dearka said. "Every last unattached guy in the room was plotting his demise."

"Huh? Run that by me again." Athrun said.

"He was with Vanai. And by with, I mean about as close as you and Cagalli are." Mir extrapolated.

"Really? Sai was with Vanai? About time he found a girl." Cagalli said, leaning back into Athrun's embrace harder. Ray scowled, unnoticed and headed back inside. He quickly found Vanai, since she was the center of a moving ring of other couples. Like the brown haired girl… Miriallia… had said, she was with the one known as Sai, holding him possessively close. As he approached she laughed gaily.

"You're such a witty person, Sai. Unlike the rest of these drudges." She waved her hand at the people surrounding them. Ray stepped up to her smartly.

"Ma'am, I'd like to get Sai to his games group, if you don't mind." Ray said, arcing an eyebrow at her as a signal. She ignored it.

"I do mind. Sai's the only fun person here tonight. You can't take him. He'll join his group later… better yet, he'll join mine." Vanai replied, practically pulling Sai closer to herself. Ray grimaced inwardly. She was ruining the plan with her overactive libido. Ray had feared something like this would happen, but had fortunately thought of a remedy. There could be no survivors from Lacus's friends group. Sai would have a little accident after his session with Vanai. The poor guy would likely be flummoxed anyway, considering what she likely had in mind. He would be so disoriented that Ray could put a bullet in his head with ease.

_Enjoy her while you can, Sai. The cold kiss of death is waiting for you ere the night is over._ Ray thought darkly as he went back to his target group. They were waiting by the golf carts he had gathered. As he walked toward them, Ray sent the coded signal to his men in the woods, warning them to be ready. "Sai has transferred to Ms. Vanai's games group. He'll rejoin us after the game periods." Ray informed them. None of them seemed that bothered by the news. Indeed, Sai had actually been the odd man out, the only one with a date of some sort. All the couples or in one case, triple, seemed happier and more relaxed being among only people who had significant others. A gas powered cart pulled up, with Frost, still in Grim Reaper guise, in the driver's seat, with his scythe lying down in the small truck bed. "Please follow my cart. We'll go slowly, so no one gets lost." Ray instructed.


	10. Night of Frost part 1

"What was that all about?" Sai asked Vanai after Ray had left. She just shook her head and pulled him away from the crowd, through a door which she closed behind her. They were now in a study like room, with a large plush couch in the middle of the floor that looked recent and out of place. "I thought we were doing games." Sai pointed out. Vanai smiled at him, rather shyly, he thought. She pulled him by the hand over to the couch and sat down.

"This a game. We're going to play kiss and tell, you and I." She told him. Before Sai could react, she had pulled his head over to hers and was busy trying to consume his mouth with hers, or at least that's what it felt like. By the time Sai worked up the power to protest, she had pulled away, but not very far. "So now tell me… did you like it?" she whispered.

"Umm… yes." Sai replied. He was nervous. This was his first time alone with a girl in what felt like years. He was still tender about how Flay had totally betrayed him and his feelings for her back on the Archangel. He knew now that Flay had been insane, in a manner, but it still hurt. _With that red hair, she really does remind me of Flay._ He thought. _Also with the intensity of her emotions. As with Flay, it's all or nothing, no in between._ Sai gathered his courage and made a gamble. He leaned forward and kissed her this time. He was gentle and considerate and slow, unlike her almost painful haste. He broke the kiss off after a few moments. "Now you tell me… why did you bring me here?" he asked.

She fell back and pulled him down on top of her. Sai felt uncomfortable but since she had him in a bear hug, he couldn't move too much without causing her pain and discomfort, which he had no intention of doing. "To save your life." she replied simply.

"What?" Sai asked, startled.

"I brought you here to save your life. Also because I find you fascinating and attractive." She replied. Sai shook his head as if to clear it.

"What do you mean, save my life?" he asked. _"What do you mean, find me fascinating and attractive?"_ was what he thought.

"Don't worry about it Sai. It was nothing. Ray would never hurt anyone I like. He wouldn't dare." She told him soothingly. Sai felt himself being drawn in and he snatched at his presence of mind like a drowning man goes for a rope.

"I'm serious, Vanai. If Ray meant me harm that also means he meant my friends harm. I need to warn them, if possible." Sai protested, trying to get up. Vanai wasn't making it easy. She kept her arms tightly around him and he lacked the proper leverage to break her hold while lying on his stomach on top of her. She complicated things by kicking her dress up around her waist and wrapping both legs around his lower body. Sai was more than acutely aware that her legs were bare all the way up to her panties.

"Don't leave me, Sai. Please don't. I haven't ever felt this way about a guy before. I want you to stay. Please tell me you'll stay." She sobbed. Sai felt his heart going out to her and his will flagging.

"I…" he started to say. Vanai brought her head forward and kissed him again, this time emulating his gentleness. She darted her tongue into his mouth and closed her eyes in bliss. Sai started to protest but was no match for her. His words turned into a moan as the world started to lose meaning and weight. His last non instinctual thought was that he hoped his friends could handle whatever was wrong.

"I fail to see the purpose of holding a game way out in this dark forest." Lacus said, looking around nervously. The trees seemed to be trying to claw the sky into shreds, reaching with dark, leafless branches to form an arch over their heads as they drove along.

"It's a game that requires a proper setting to be fun." Ray called over his shoulder from the guiding cart. "It also requires lots of space. Trust me, it'll be very rewarding."

"I hope so." Lacus relied, snuggling closer to Kira. Or as close as his armor allowed. She sighed mentally. _Why did he have to choose such an annoyingly fitting costume? I can get close to him, but not to the real soft part, the hurt part of him that I know is there. His emotional armor keeps me away, and though it appears as shiny and bright as anything, I know he's still hurting inside. I wish he would wear something like Athrun did, and let me in to his heart truly._ A few minutes more and they entered the clearing. A pot of some boiling liquid gave off a moist stench. Ray made sure they were all gathered around the pot.

"Now, don't mind the smell. It's just a prop and you'll soon be far enough away from it. I'll be right back; I need to do some final adjustments." Ray instructed them before slipping off into the woods. Zacharis stood watch over them, fingering his scythe.

"I wonder what the game is?" Athrun said.

"Whatever it is, I hope it does involve some distance from this pot. It smells horrid." Cagalli replied. Miriallia stared at the pot and then clutched Dearka's arm.

"I thought I saw an animal head in there." She explained.

"You know, lets just back up a bit. There's no way it should matter whether we cluster around the carts or around the pot." Dearka decided. Everyone agreed. They turned around and headed back towards the carts. After only a few steps though there was a bright flash of light and a thunderous boom. A shockwave of immense proportions tossed everyone to the ground and even flipped the carts over. Athrun clearly heard shrapnel buzz by just over his head.

"What the hell!" Dearka exclaimed, fingering a bloody graze along one of his shoulders where a piece of invisibly fast metal had cut him.

"They avoided the bomb." Frost said gleefully. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Who are you? What happened?" Kira demanded.

"Frost told you he'd make you pay, Pink." Zacharis intoned.

"Zacharis? What the hell is going on?" Kira said, starting to get to his feet.

"I would have thought that would be obvious. This is an assassination." Ray said, stepping out of the trees, submachine gun in hand. Ten Blue Cosmos fanatics, similarly armed and still in costume, fanned out behind him.

"Move Pink and the girls over here." Zacharis demanded. Ray shrugged. It didn't matter. He gestured with the barrel of his gun. Slowly, the girls separated from the guys and walked over towards the Blue Cosmos people. The guys were a tense bunch, full of pent up anger and energy. Ray made sure that he was covering them himself the entire time.

"Now… for the preservation of our Blue and Pure world… I sentence Lacus Clyne and her companions to death." Ray said wickedly. His fingers tightened on the trigger as did the fingers of his ten fanatics. The clearing exploded with automatic weapons fire. Ray had to give the guys some credit. They managed to avoid the initial barrage by taking cover behind an overturned cart. Suddenly, a pistol barked and one of the fanatics dropped, a hole through his throat. Ray dropped and rolled for cover. Having the victims armed wasn't in the plan. How one of them had managed to get a pistol was beyond him. Unless… the guy dressed in a ZAFT uniform had had a gun. Could he have been an actual ZAFT soldier? If so, that was just an added bonus, in Ray's mind.

A sudden fusillade of gunfire broke out from behind Ray, from where the girls were standing while Frost mumbled to them of their horrid fates. Six of the remaining nine fanatics dropped, shot in the back of their heads. Ray looked behind him, to see the two twins in Earth Alliance uniforms had more real pistols out, barrels smoking as they laid down covering fire. They were excellent shots, killing two of the remaining three fanatics as he watched. The boy with the gun got the last one as the fanatic turned to gun down the girls. One of the girls raced toward Ray and had her gun by his head and her foot on his gun before he could react. The other pointed her gun at Zacharis, who froze. Ray wondered where Amy was. She was supposed to be covering the road out, to prevent anyone from running away.

"Right… don't move or I'll kill your friend." The girl with her gun pointing at Ray declared to Zacharis. Ray had a bad feeling come over him. The boys started walking over, still on guard.

"Go ahead. Don't bother me none. Hell, give him a gut shot for me." Zacharis replied calmly. The girl's muzzle wavered slightly in disbelief. Ray looked around wildly, just in time to see Amy slip out of the woods, a chain wound between her hands. She stole up on the rearmost of the group of guys, the one with the pistol.

"I'm serious. If you move, I'll blow his brains all over the clearing." The girl warned.

"I'm serious too. Though that's a waste of tasty brains." Zacharis said right back, making a licking his lips sound. The muzzle wavered again. Ray made his move just as Amy slipped her improvised garrote over Ysak's head. Ray dropped his submachine gun and scrabbled for his pistol inside his jacket while trying to roll away. The girl started to track him with her pistol, but then she saw Amy and what she was doing.

"YSAK!" she called, bringing her pistol up. Ray pulled his pistol out of his coat and started to raise it. There was a sudden bright flash of light and a thumping sound. It was the last sound he would ever hear. While Katie had moved to help Ysak, Chanel had covered her sister, putting a shot right into the base of Ray's skull, snuffing him out like a light. However, her shot had cost her too, for Zacharis was moving like greased lightning, slapping the gun from her hand with ease and following up with a kick to the stomach that left her collapsed on the ground. Ysak had dropped his pistol in order to use both his hands to stave off the strangling from Amy. Meanwhile, Athrun, Dearka and Kira were running over to save their girls, while Katie was running over to assist Ysak.

Ysak was having a hard time of it. This girl was much taller than him, which gave her the advantage of being able to lift him off the ground and deny him leverage. She was also at least as strong as he was. She didn't seem to feel any of the blows he gave her with his feet. Ysak saw Katie running towards him, pistol raised, just as the world started to go dark. Suddenly Ysak was falling, feeling like someone had just slapped him on the cheek. He sucked in great gasps of life giving air. He touched his cheek and felt a trickle of blood. Katie had grazed him with her shot, trying to hit Amy. However, she had only grazed Amy as well, and she didn't get a second shot, as Amy dropped the chain and kicked the gun out of Katie's hands with a single fluid move.

Across the clearing, Cagalli, Lacus and Miriallia had fallen back from Frost as soon as the firing started. They started to move forward when Chanel was kicked, but when Frost pulled a large caliber magnum revolver from inside his robe, they fell back again. "Good bye." Frost said happily, aiming at Athrun. Cagalli dived for Chanel's dropped pistol and brought it up in a flurry of shots, none coming close, but still enough to distract Frost long enough for Athrun to close and kick him squarely between the legs. Frost gave a slight grunt while Athrun winced in pain. Frost started to aim again, this time point blank, but then Dearka slammed a gun into the side of his head with a roundhouse swing. Frost staggered to the side, dropping both gun and scythe. However, he remained standing. Kira stormed past him, grabbing Lacus and Cagalli by their arms and pulling them off into the forest, with Miriallia close behind. Athrun and Dearka split up, coming at Frost from two different angles. Dearka reversed his grip on the gun and pointed it at Frost. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger.

Zacharis dropped and rolled, coming up with his scythe. Dearka tried to hose the bullets into the bastard, but Zacharis was monstrously fast, always staying a few steps ahead of Dearka's point of aim, until he disappeared into the forest after Kira and the girls. Athrun and Dearka looked at each other in surprise. They checked Ysak's situation. He and Katie were holding Amy off, but neither side was going anywhere. "You go. Cagalli has military training. I trust her. And you." Athrun decided, heading towards Ysak. Dearka paused only to reload before crashing into the brush after Zacharis.

-----------------------------------------

"I'm scared, Kira." Lacus said, as he pulled her through the dank forest. Kira checked behind them. Nobody was following them.

"You aren't the only one." Miriallia said, panting for breath. "I never thought Blue Cosmos would come after us like this."

"The whole party must have been a set up. We're hardly dressed for this sort of thing." Cagalli noted.

"What was with that guy with the scythe? Zacharis, you called him." Miriallia asked Kira.

"He's from my math class at school. He always creeped me out a little, but I couldn't figure why. Now I think I know." Kira responded. "Remember the Calamity, the Forbidden and the Raider? Their pilots didn't give a damn about each other and even attacked each other in combat, though they were on the same side. Zacharis's attitude reminds me of them."

"He's probably mentally unbalanced and highly aggressive, is that what you're saying?" Cagalli summed up.

"I'm a bit more than unbalanced, babe." Zacharis said, dropping down next to them from the treetop. "I'm pure fucking madness incarnate." He explained, whipping the hard wood of the scythe handle into Kira's stomach, causing all the air to woosh out of him. Kira gasped and started to fall but managed to get a hold of the tree trunk and so remained upright. Cagalli pointed her borrowed pistol at Zacharis from three feet away.

"Damn you!" she cried and pulled the trigger. The bullet punched through Zacharis's shoulder in a spray of blood. He didn't even wince. Before Cagalli could do more than stare, he had disarmed her and tossed the gun off into the woods. He grabbed her around the throat and pulled her close.

"You're right. Damn me." he said in an ugly tone. He started to squeeze. Cagalli clawed at his arm, to no effect. She reached for her plastic swords and rammed one into his stomach and the other into his jaw, still to no effect. The world began growing dim.

"Put her down!" Kira raged, his eyes gone into the vacancy of his Berserker mode. Kira slammed his plastic sword down onto Zacharis's wounded shoulder, finally eliciting a grunt of pain. Frost dropped Cagalli and turned, his eyes blazing with hate. He swung his scythe with both hands. Kira only barely dodged, his sword cut in half, his armor gashed and his flesh cut deeply. An inch the wrong way and he'd have been eviscerated. However, some luck was with Kira, because Zacharis's scythe struck a tree and embedded itself firmly into its trunk. "Run, Lacus! Get out of here! I'll be fine!" Kira ordered.

"You'll be dead." Frost howled, throwing himself on the slimmer boy. For a while, the struggle was even. Kira had amazing abilities in his berserk mode, but Zacharis was a trained fighter, wheras Kira relied on natural talent alone. Eventually, Zacharis began to win by brute strength alone.

"Kira!" Lacus cried, afraid. Miriallia was tending to Cagalli, who was having a bit of difficulty breathing.

"Run… Lacus." Kira ground out.

"Yes… run… run away, Pink. The chase is fun. But I'll get you, Pink. Frost will skin you alive and then rape you into madness. He'll share his life with you. Run, Pink! Pink, Pink, Pink, PINK!" Frost foamed. He snapped his head forward and bit down on Kira's right shoulder, just where the shoulder met the neck. He began chewing and grinding his teeth back and forth. Kira screamed, trying to push his attacker away.

"I'm not leaving you Kira!" Lacus cried, tears running from her eyes. She tried to pull Frost off Kira, but was backhanded away with a casual swipe.

"Wait your turn, Pink. Frost is almost done."

Miriallia left off tending Cagalli and started frantically searching for the pistol Frost had thrown away. Before she could get very far though, Kira suddenly went limp. Frost raised his bloody jaws and smiled evilly. He slowly got to his feet, pulling Kira up by his hair. With casual brutality, Frost slammed Kira's head into a tree trunk and then dropped him, letting the Ultimate Coordinator slump bonelessly to the ground. Lacus gasped in fright. "K-K-Kira?" she asked.

"Pink should worry about herself. He won't be saving you." Frost informed her, putting a foot onto Kira's back and grinding him into the soft forest loam. Miriallia had finally located the pistol. Her hands shaking with terror and anger, she pointed it at Frost. She fired, but Frost just twitched his head out of the way. Miriallia kept pulling the trigger, but every bullet missed, some by bad aim, but others because Frost simply seemed to let them slip by him, moving a few inches at a time. Cagalli couldn't believe what she was seeing. Zacharis Frost was dodging bullets, right in front of her eyes. That wasn't possible, but he was still managing to do it. Sure, Miriallia's aim wasn't very good, because all of her shots were limb hits at best, but it was still frightening to watch. Within seconds, the clip was empty. Miriallia kept squeezing the trigger out of startled reflex as Frost advanced on her. He reached out, blindingly fast, and gripped her hand. "You're not as pretty as Pink, but Frost will be happy to demonstrate his intentions for Pink on you. Sometimes the anticipation of seeing it done to others heightens the experience." Zacharis declared. He squeezed until her wrist bones grated and she dropped the pistol.

"No… no." Mirillia sobbed as Frost pulled her closer. He ripped her flight jacket off with a simple tug and then used his leg to trip her, dumping her to the ground at his feet so she was lying on her back. He stepped on her ankle to hold her in place, using one hand to slowly peel off her clothing while the other produced a wicked carving knife from inside his robes. His blood, which still trickled from his shoulder wound, splattered onto her bare face and midriff, as he stripped her down to her underwear. He laid the knife up against her lips as he reached for her bra.

"Shhh… save your breath. You'll need it in a few moments." He advised her, starting to drag the knife down to make the first cut. Mir was weeping in terrified hysteria now, too scared to even move.

BANG! A loud noise broke the silence of the woods. BANG, BANG, BANG! Three more shots rung out. Four small red rimmed holes appeared on Frost's stomach. He staggered forward and almost fell, before turning to face Dearka, who was standing a few feet behind him, submachine gun smoking. Dearka's face was twisted in a mask of rage, his eyes vacant in a berserker rage. He clicked the firing lever to full automatic mode.

"Die, you monster." Dearka snarled, pulling the trigger from less than twenty feet away. Bullets spat out in a stream of fire two feet long. Frost seemed to blur. When the submachine gun ran out of bullets, Frost was still standing, though he had more than twenty graze wounds and two more holes, one in each arm. "How the fuck did you…" Dearka gasped. He got no farther before the carving knife hit him in the right side of the chest, penetrating between the ribs and tearing his lung open. Dearka collapsed, blood foaming on his chest, Zacharis pounced over to him and withdrew his knife with a vicious twist.

Blood pouring down his chest from his multiple gunshot wounds, Frost still stood as upright as he had at the beginning of the day. "Hehehehhehehe…. HAHAHAHAHA!" he crowed, laughing wildly, brandishing his blood coated knife at the sky. "NOW… Pink… where were we?" he asked, advancing on Lacus, who could do no more than crouch and stare like a frightened rabbit at the devil who advanced slowly towards her, the blood of a friend dripping from his mouth.


	11. Night of Frost part 2

"Uhg!" Katie groaned as Amy elbowed her in the sternum, causing her to fly back and fall to the ground. Athrun tried to take advantage of the hit by grabbing Amy around the waist, but he might as well have grabbed a raging bull for all the good it did. She clubbed him on the back of the head with both fists, stunning him. She helped him get to the ground by shoving her knee into his chin. Ysak whirled back into the fight after recovering from a previous throw. He punched her across the jaw three times, right-left-right, but the combination only seemed to make her angrier.

"Aren't you worried about your friends?" she spat. "Frost is probably skinning the girls right now. That's what he does, you see. Skins them alive, keeps them skinless and alive and then brutally rapes them. You can hear the screams for miles. It's his favorite form of killing." She gloated. Ysak growled and punched her again, but this time she retaliated by punching back, catching him just below the throat and driving the air out of him.

"Damn you!" Athrun raged, his eyes going vacant as he went Berserker. In the space of the next three seconds he landed more than seven blows. Amy fell back under his furious onslaught, spitting blood from a split lip and bloody nose. Suddenly, Athrun stopped, his fists caught in mid swing by her hands. With a motion like a whip cracking, Amy rolled and slammed Athrun into the ground head first, his head cracking backwards agonizingly. His body fell to the ground and went limp. Amy looked from Ysak to Katie.

"How about I show you what MY favorite form of killing is?" Amy said with a smile. She scurried over to Katie, looking for all the world like a four legged spider as she bobbed along the ground. Katie tried to fight her off, but all the combat training in the world won't help you against someone who is far stronger, faster and tougher than you are. Amy just didn't seem to feel pain.

"If you… if you touch her, I'll kill you." Ysak spat, coughing up a wad of bloody mucus.

"Touch her? You mean like this?" Amy asked, grabbing Katie by the hair with one hand and yanking her head back painfully, baring her throat to the sky. Meanwhile, Amy used her right leg as a bar to bend Katie over backwards, so that her back was level to the ground, her throat bared and her open mouth facing Ysak.

"Kill you…" Ysak mumbled, shambling to his feet. Amy shoved her long fingers into Katie's open mouth and grabbed her tongue.

"Take one step closer, lover boy, and I'll tear out her tongue. She'll bleed to death within minutes, if she doesn't drown in her own blood first. Girls who were about to be raped used to commit suicide this way, back a few centuries ago." Amy informed him coldly. Ysak paused, torn between two desires. He hungered to destroy this beast that masqueraded as a girl in front of him, but he would not be the cause of death for Katie. His sentimentality surprised him until he finally decided to just screw it and admit it. _I care about Katie and Chanel. They bug the hell out of me, but they really do like me. And I really do like them. Sure, they are a bit maniacal sometimes, like when they broke into my room. But now I can see that they only did that because they care. Sure, it's a misplaced way of showing it, but when you have had nothing, you tend to grasp onto what you can get tighter than need be. Like me and mother._

"What now, then?" Ysak asked, panting. "If I move, you'll kill her. If you kill her, I'll kill you. Stalemate."

"What makes you think I want to live?" Amy asked coyly.

"What?" Ysak said, disbelieving. "Are you crazy?"

"Yes." She replied simply. "I'm a homicidal maniac. I'm also chronically depressed and obsessive. I've had teams of experts evaluating me for most of my life, so I know. It doesn't bother me. It doesn't bother my keepers either. I was made the way I am today so I could serve their ends. That I'm a crazy bitch because of it doesn't make them feel bad."

"You seem pretty lucid and rational for a madwoman." Ysak noted. Amy smiled.

"Please, give me some credit. Just because I'm insane doesn't mean I have to gibber and drool. If you want that, you should go to Zacharis." She told him. "I'm going to kill her now. Then I'm going to kill you. And then the other girl. And then I'm going to go help Zacharis with the others."

It was at this time that Chanel, who had been sneaking up on Amy this entire time after recovering her breath, grabbed Amy by the hair and yanked her head back. "God damn you!" Chanel sobbed and drove her thumb into Amy's left eye. Amy screamed in agony and tried to twist away. In the process, she released Katie, who fell to the ground gagging. That was all Ysak needed. The chains around his mind seemed to fall away. For a brief instant, he saw what appeared to be a blue seed explode inside his mind. Everything seemed clearer… slower… more understandable. Ysak darted across the space between him and Amy. Amy had just managed to twist away and repel Chanel with a wild hand chop to the jaw, which sent the smaller girl tumbling to the ground again when Ysak hit her like a bolt of lightning. Blood streamed from her now ruined left eye socket and Ysak took advantage of her sudden blindness to give her a flying kick to the left knee, which shattered the bone like so much glass. She started to fall, but he caught her by the throat and pulled her close so he could slam his forehead into her nose, breaking the cartilage messily.

"I'm going to make you regret being born." Ysak promised.

"I already do." Amy spat back, driving her fingers into his groin and grabbing hold. She started to squeeze. No physical agony in Ysak's life had ever been greater. Not even when his view screen in the Duel exploded and gave him his facial scar. However, the emotional torment of knowing that if he dropped out, Katie and Chanel would be brutally murdered kept Ysak going, even when Amy added a twisting motion to her vicious attack. A sudden roaring sound filled the air.

"GAAAAH!" Ysak screamed, releasing a tiny portion of his pain and then driving his doubled fists into Amy's nose. Cartilage and bone splinters sprayed from the impact point deep into her brain. She twitched once… twice… and then utterly relaxed. She kept breathing, but Ysak wouldn't have bet on her ever having a coherent thought ever again. Ysak collapsed right after she fell, the pain between his legs radiating outwards in never ending waves.

--------------------------------------------

The roar of the off-road vehicle thrummed into Alkire's body, making the whole world seem to vibrate slightly. He spun the wheel to avoid hitting a clump of rocks protruding from the ground. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Raine chewed her lip nervously. Victor and Vlad shared the rear seat, while James stood on the cargo area, where the anti-vehicle minigun was mounted. Normally the team kept this vehicle, which was used for rapid insertion into dangerous mission areas, under lock and key in one of Alkire's storage hangers at the Bern International Airport. However, they had retrieved it for tonight's mission, because driving across open space was impractical in Alkire's Ferrari, and very uncomfortable in any of the other cars the team regularly used.

"I hope we make it in time." Raine said, clutching her hand rests as Alkire jumped the jeep over a small ravine.

"We still haven't ascertained whether or not there's anything wrong." Victor shouted from the back seat.

"I can't believe I let the girls go to a party at Zunnichi's house! I'm must be getting stupid!" Vlad yelled, still kicking himself.

"Hold on… we're entering the mission area." Alkire said, driving the jeep up a long incline towards a wooden fence. "I'm going to boost over it!" he shouted, referring to one of Vlad's custom additions, which consisted of three small two use rockets mounted under the body of the jeep. The jeep's engine screamed and everyone yelled as Alkire punched the button, lifting the jeep into the air on a pillar of flame. The jeep sailed over the eight-foot high fence with feet to spare before landing hard on the other side, nearly throwing James off.

"I still can't believe that thing actually works!" Raine shouted as they drove on.

"You're a genius, Vladimir!" Alkire howled in glee as they tore across Zunnichi's property. Vlad smiled briefly before returning to kicking himself for letting the girls get into danger.

"Hold on! I see gunfire!" Raine cried, pointing at the forest. Alkire hit the brakes and slewed the jeep to a stop.

"Where?" Victor asked. His question was answered a moment later as the report of continuous automatic fire resounded from the forest. "Submachine gun, full auto." Victor identified, quite unnecessarily.

"I'm headed towards that clearing we saw on the satellite map!" Alkire decided, as he forced the jeep through its gears again, tires chewing through the turf. The map hadn't been that good, but they had been in a rush too, and it did show most major features of the area. The jeep flew through the woods, trees whispering by on either side, underbrush splattering against the undercarriage. Within a minute they had gotten to the forest clearing. The jeep bounded out of the woods and Alkire threw it into a 360-degree skid. Raine leaped from the jeep the moment it stopped moving and ran towards her adopted sisters, pistol raised. The boy with the scar on his face, Ysak, was grappling with a freakishly large girl. The girl had Ysak by the balls, literally, while Ysak was just raising his doubled fists for another attack. As Raine brought her gun up, Ysak swung, impacting the girl directly on her already smashed nose. The girl collapsed like her strings had been cut.

"She's dead." Victor commented, his sword drawn. "Bone splinters in the brain."

"Are the girls okay?" Alkire shouted from the driver's seat of the jeep. Along with James and the minigun, he was mobile artillery for this mission. With Vlad and Victor flanking her, Raine ran to Chanel and Katie, who were clustered around Ysak, weeping.

"You girls okay?" Raine asked, skidding to a stop next to them. They looked at her with tear stained faces. Both looked like someone… probably the large girl… had been tossing them around the clearing for a while. They were covered with scrapes, bruises and small cuts.

"We're fine. Just a little banged up." Chanel replied.

"Ysak's hurt though. She used one of those moves you told us we should never use, except to save our lives." Katie added.

"God… damn." Ysak gritted, slowly unbending. "Feels like she crushed it." he whimpered.

"It will feel that way, for a while." Raine said, with sympathy. Meanwhile Victor and Vlad were checking the clearing.

"We got eleven dead and another kid wounded." Victor reported, holding Athrun in his arms. "His neck is sprained and he's got a bad concussion, but he'll live. As for the dead, well, eight of them got plugged from behind, clean shots, one took it in the throat, another the base of the neck and the third the left temple. I'm pretty sure the kid that got it in the temple is Sark's kid."

"Asmodeus's son? Well, at last someone got the little devil." Raine replied, not displeased at all.

"The other's are all Blue Cosmos, the really devoted ones." Vlad declared. As for the kid you got there, Victor, that's Athrun Zala. Be careful with him."

"Athrun ZALA?" Victor replied, his voice cracking slightly. "You mean the son of the former chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council… the SON of the man who tried to destroy Earth?"

"Yes. That one. He's also, incidentally enough, the one that destroyed the GENESIS laser and saved the Earth." Vlad retorted.

"How do you know that?" Victor asked.

"You know what my information network is like. I got that from several reliable eyewitness reports. This particular deed was reported not only by several ZAFT commanders, but also by Colonel Kisaka of the Orb military and Captain Murrue Ramius of the Earth Forces, the commander of the Archangel." Vlad answered.

"What… about… the other… guy?" Ysak managed.

"Huh?" Raine asked him. "What other guy?"

"There was another guy, dressed like the Grim Reaper, with a scythe and everything. He was going to kill Lacus and the rest of us before Ysak managed to distract the guards enough for Katie and I to get our guns out." Chanel told everyone. By this time Alkire and James had left the jeep and were also gathered around.

"He was going to do more than just kill us." Katie added, starting to weep. With several hitches, she explained what Zacharis did with girls, and what Amy tried to do to her before Ysak intervened.

"You are a good man." Vlad said, picking Ysak up effortlessly. "You have my thanks for saving Katie's life."

"And mine." Alkire said.

"And mine." Everyone else repeated.

"Help… Kira… Dearka. Zacharis went… after them… forest." Ysak managed before falling unconscious. Vlad gently placed him into the back seat of the jeep before sprinting off to look for tracks. Raine held her two sisters close as they sobbed, releasing the tension of combat. They had already suffered so much, and now they had been forced to kill to survive. Raine bared her teeth, wishing she could get her hands on the people responsible for this disaster.

"I found tracks! I'll mark the trail!" Vlad called from the other side of the clearing, before disappearing into the dark forest. Meanwhile, Victor had placed Athrun down in the jeep as well. He wandered over to the crater in the middle of the clearing while Alkire and James loaded up with med kits and weapons before plunging into the forest after Vlad.

"Someone detonated a bomb here. A giant flash bang combined with a little shrapnel. It was meant to disable the kids… so that the fanatics could gun them down in cold blood." Victor decided, working through the evidence and reconstructing the scene. "But some of the kids turned out to be Coordinators and didn't go along with the plan. Gunfire broke out. Katie and Chanel took the enemy by surprise. The fanatics were killed quickly, judging from their positions. Single tap, back of the head. Nice and clean. Sark's kid tried to make a move and got his head blown off for it. I just can't understand how the kids just didn't wrap up the large girl and whoever the other assailant is. They had three pistols, and all of them were good shots." Victor continued, musing out loud.

"The other guy… Zacharis Frost… he was freakish." Katie said, her voice stronger. "He knocked the gun out of Chanel's hand before she could turn it back to him after she shot Sark there. Then he took her down with a single kick. He was going to shoot Athrun, but Cagalli distracted him with wild gunfire. Athrun kicked him square between the legs and he didn't even twitch! It looked like it hurt Athrun more than him." Katie explained.

"Wait, a Coordinator groin kicked this guy and hurt his foot doing so? That's not possible." Victor said flatly.

"That's not the scary part. Another Coordinator, Dearka, picked up one of the submachine guns and fired at Zacharis. But Zacharis ran so fast that Dearka couldn't get enough lead-time on him to land a hit. He was like a blur." Katie said and shivered. "I didn't believe humans could move that fast."

"They can't. What you described is possible, but only if this Dearka was a total slouch. Given that he used the gun in the first place, I somehow doubt that." Victor replied, his mind whirling.

"I can't see a damn thing." Alkire complained as he tried to sneak through the underbrush along Vlad's trail.

"You got it easy, with just your rifle and pistol. I've got a machine gun here." James retorted.

Alkire held up a hand for silence. Slowly the sounds of a voice drifted towards them. They crept closer, until they could see who was talking. A young man in a blood slicked black robe was standing over a pink haired teenage girl who was lying on the ground. The bloody man was pulling at her clothes, ripping them off, while waving a blood-coated knife around with abandon.

"I told you I'd get you, Pink. I'm gonna start the skinning right here, just below your pretty little face. I'm gonna work slow and steady. Feel free to scream. It makes it more fun." The bloody man raved.

"Where's Vlad?" James whispered. As if in answer a shadow detached itself from a tree near the bleeding young man and crept towards him. Somehow, the young man heard Vlad and spun.

"More of you? I guess the killing just doesn't end tonight! Let's see how you squeal!" Zacharis cried, charging the dark haired man who had tried to sneak up on him. His gunshot wounds had stopped bleeding, due to his implanted medical kits that pumped him full of painkillers and blood coagulants. Zacharis swung the knife and was surprised when the man blocked with his raised arm. He was even more surprised when the knife snapped with a metallic clink and half the blade spun off into the night. "What?" Zacharis complained.

"False arm." the dark haired man explained, slamming it into Zacharis's face with the force of a piston. Frost stumbled back and shook his head. He threw the knife stump at the man, who blocked with his other arm. Another clink. "Two false arms."

"Doesn't matter." Frost decided and leapt at Vlad. They gripped hands and Vlad applied his full pressure. He had seen what the boy had been about to do. Here, at last, was someone who deserved to die more than Vlad himself did. Vlad could hear the kid's bones breaking, but that didn't stop Frost from kicking Vlad in the ankle so hard that Vlad stumbled back, his leg feeling like it was on fire.

"What ARE you?" Vlad asked, astounded. Every other person he knew would be on the ground moaning in agony but this guy was just standing there grinning.

"Death itself." Frost declared and leapt again. Vlad raised one arm to block but instead had it hit him in the head when Frost's double punch smashed it out of the way. Vlad teetered back, off balance. Frost giggled with glee and grabbed him by the shoulders and started to twist. Vlad shrieked as the mechanical leads attached to his shoulder nerve endings started to part. It felt like his arms were being ripped off… again. They were, actually.

"Holy shit, he's beating Vlad." James cursed. "I can't hit him with my weapon… I'll blow Vlad to mincemeat too." Alkire took careful aim with his assault rifle and switched the lever to single shot only.

"I'm going to hit the right side of his chest. When he staggers, Vlad will get free. Then I want you to blow that nut to shreds." Alkire ordered. He pulled the trigger slowly and evenly.

Zacharis felt the high powered bullet punch through his chest, tear through his lung and exit his back in a welter of gore. He gasped from the sudden pain… several implants had been damaged. Then he went totally rabid. He tossed Vladimir away like he was a cheap Frisbee. The man with the mechanical arms hit a tree about midway up its trunk and fell to the ground in a heap. Frost saw the heavy machine gun spit flames a yard long. He could actually make out the bullets in flight, though they still moved almost faster than he could see. Snarling in frustration, Frost felt the need to survive war with the need for vengeance. Survival won. Vengeance could always be taken later. He blurred into action, avoiding the bullets as best he could. He wasn't always completely successful, but managed to avoid taking any direct hits. He started to flee off into the forest when someone grabbed him by the ankle, tripping him headlong.

"I'll kill you!" Kira cried, dragging himself towards Frost along the ground. He was still bleeding badly from Zacharis's bite, but seemed beyond pain at the moment. Zacharis felt a moment of kinship with the other. He knew what it was like to hate someone so much you could ignore even serious wounds to try and kill them. It was, after all, how he felt about the rest of the world all the time. However, now was not the time. Frost needed to get away or he'd be killed. And he didn't want to die yet, not with his vengeance unfulfilled. He kicked Kira in the head several times, until the boy lost consciousness, along with several teeth. A machine gun bullet passed completely through his upper arm, nearly severing the limb. Cradling it, Frost took off again, moving so quickly that James couldn't lead him by enough to land a hit.

"That was impossible." James said, white as a sheet. Alkire ignored him, running out with the medpacks to take care of the two wounded boys he could see. One of them, the one that had tripped Zacharis, briefly regained consciousness when Alkire knelt nearby.

"Lacus… okay… save… Lacus." He mumbled before slipping unconscious again.

"I'll do that, kid. But first I'm gonna save you." Alkire muttered.


	12. Sai and Cervantes

Kira awoke with a start. His head felt like it was being used like a drum by a pack of insane musicians. Come to think of it, his entire body ached. However, it was his right shoulder, just where the shoulder became the neck that really throbbed. It felt like someone had ripped a large chunk of his flesh out just using his or her teeth. Kira closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. His eyes flew open with a start. "Zacharis!" he shouted, struggling to sit up.

"You don't need to worry; you and all your friends are safe." A man with brown and black speckled hair and green eyes that twinkled with deep inner amusement said from a nearby chair. He drew back one of the curtains surrounding the bed. "Your friend Athrun is right next door, see?"

Athrun was indeed right next door, not more than five feet away. He was also awake and was sitting upright. He wore a neck brace and bandages were wrapped around his head quite a few times.

"You okay, Kira?" Athrun asked, turning his head slowly and carefully.

"I feel worse than I did after you self destructed the Aegis right next to me, but I suppose I'm alive." Kira replied. "What about everyone else? Lacus… Cagalli?"

"Are just fine. Recovering in another ward. Girls ward and guys ward, you see." The man sitting next to Kira said in a jolly tone. "It was you guys that got the crap kicked out of you. The girls were just treated for minor injuries; scrapes, cuts and bruises. And of course for psychological trauma, they were pretty scared." The man continued.

"Who are you? What about Dearka and Ysak?" Athrun asked.

"I'm Alkire. We met at the airport, remember? I'm the guy that dragged your half dead carcass to this hospital." Alkire replied with a smile. "Ysak is just beyond Athrun there. I'll open the curtain in a minute, but he's not feeling very communicative. He suffered a pretty severe injury to a rather personal spot. He'll recover, but he won't be hitting any home runs with either of my girls for a while." Alkire told them. "As for Dearka… the blond haired guy with purple eyes, right? Well he's in surgery right now. That rat bastard who bit you, Kira, well he stabbed Dearka in the right lung with that carving knife and collapsed it. He was within about three minutes of death by the time we got him to this hospital. The doctors tell me he should pull through just fine though. They've fixed his lung, which luckily wasn't ripped or torn and he should be back to normal in a few weeks. Damn, but you Coordinators are tough."

"Not as tough as Zacharis though." Kira said bitterly. "Cagalli shot him in the shoulder and then Dearka put four rounds in his lower abdomen and then shot him twice more afterwards. This was of course after Athrun kicked him in the groin, Dearka clubbed him in the head with the butt of a gun and I had fought hand to hand with him for several minutes. How the hell is he still alive… unless you guys killed him?"

"Nope. Afraid not. James nearly took his arm off with an upper arm hit, but he ran off before we could finish him. But he should be out of the picture for a long time. There's no way he could recover before a few weeks have passed, even if he spent all that time in intensive care." Alkire replied. He still shivered, remembering how his shot had hit Zacharis squarely in the chest… and the kid hadn't even flinched. Then how when James opened up he somehow managed to miss or near miss, despite only being about twenty feet away. Alkire still wondered if he'd dreamed that or not. Dodging bullets wasn't humanly possible.

Just then a doctor came in. "Your friend… Dearka Elsman… has just left the surgery. He's unconscious but he'll make a full recovery. He's very lucky. If the people on site hadn't given him excellent first aid, he'd likely have died. We'll put him in here so you can be around when he wakes up." The doctor informed them and then left. Suddenly there was a very loud stomping out in the hall. Everyone clearly heard the doctor say "Sir… you can't go in there without a pass. Sir… Sir!" and then the sound of someone falling and hitting the ground very hard. Everyone tensed.

Kisaka stormed through the door like an angry bear. Alkire reflected that it might not have been a good idea having called him and told him about the whole incident. He hadn't expected Kisaka to just drop everything and come here, which is what he must have done to get here so soon. Kisaka's eyes darted about the room until they came to rest on Alkire. Kisaka stomped over and lifted the thinner man out of the chair by his collar. "What the hell is going on, Robert? Why did I get a call saying that Cagalli had been hospitalized in an incident? Why where YOU the one to call me?" Kisaka demanded.

"Oh, come on sir, do you really hate me that much that you would suspect I had anything to do with this whole thing?" Alkire protested. Kisaka considered that.

"Maybe not you, but certainly Vladimir. If you're involved, that means he's involved. And if he's involved then I'm going to be very angry." Kisaka replied.

"They saved our lives. Or some of our lives anyway. Cagalli's certainly." Ysak called from behind his partition. Kisaka dropped Alkire and moved over to Ysak's bed.

"What do you mean?"

"If Alkire and Vlad and James hadn't come along when they did, Cagalli, Lacus and Miriallia would be dead… skinned alive by a madman, right now. Kira would be dead too… bled out from his bitten shoulder and Dearka would be dead from a collapsed lung. I'd say they did a lot more good than harm, if they did any harm at all." Ysak told him. Kisaka glared at Alkire.

"We wouldn't have been there at all if I hadn't remembered something you taught me. "Coincidences can still get people killed", remember?" Alkire said. Kisaka kept glaring at him but slowly gave a nod of acceptance.

"Fine. Good work, Robert. Don't think I've forgiven you yet, but this is a start. I'm going to see Cagalli. Don't go anywhere, Robert. I want to talk to you when I get back." Kisaka ordered before leaving the room much calmer seeming than when he entered it.

"I have to know. What is the deal between you five and Kisaka?" Athrun asked after the door was shut. "I mean he really seems to not like you, and from what I've seen of you, you seem like the people he would at least respect, if not admire."

Alkire considered for a long time. "I suppose I can give you the short version." He said at last. "Basically, Raine, Victor, Vlad, James and I were once students at a guerilla warfare academy where Kisaka was an instructor. This was five years or so before the war started. We were his star students… the ones that were so good we helped him teach everyone else. We were like members of the same family. But then Kisaka's girlfriend… fiancé actually, was kidnapped, by Blue Cosmos it turns out. She wasn't a Coordinator, but she was a supporter of Coordinator rights, a public one. Kisaka tried to rescue her. He took us along. We were so confident in our special status that we expected the mission to be a breeze. We were overconfident." Alkire said.

"And then?" Kira asked.

"And then we blew it. Fucked the entire mission over good. We found out that Vlad was a secret supporter of Blue Cosmos when he turned on us. In the ensuing gunfight, Kisaka's fiancé was killed. She died with unborn twins inside her. Kisaka's kids, to be exact. We don't know exactly who fired the bullets that killed her, but Kisaka suspects it was Vlad. It was only much later that we learned that Blue Cosmos had been blackmailing and deceiving Vlad into being their pawn. That was about when the war started. Understandably, Kisaka lost all trust in us, and especially in Vlad. He loathes Vlad. Having us turn up again is going to remind him of his fiancé and their unborn kids. He'll be really touchy for a while." Alkire explained.

"Vladimir was Blue Cosmos?" Ysak exclaimed. "So that story Dearka told me about him was true? Did Vlad actually know the Strangler Horrificus?"

Alkire looked at the floor. "Know him? Vlad IS the Strangler Horrificus." Alkire said neutrally. "We never knew much about his background till after that mission, but we later learned he'd only been taking Kisaka's class so he could learn better infiltration techniques for his raids on the PLANTS. If you see him later, you'll see his kill markers. Red circles for military people. Blue circles for civilians. Purple circles with green rims for children below age 12. One circle per person. A horrifyingly simple system."

"He's real?" Athrun asked, disbelieving. "I thought he was just a bedtime story. I mean, I know there were lots of unexplained disappearances in the PLANTS over the years, and some unexplained murders, but I never expected that it was just one guy doing it all."

"You let children of any sort be around somebody like him?" Ysak said in horror.

"Vlad's changed. I don't know exactly what it was they were blackmailing him with… but it was enough to change that gentle hearted man into the worst killer in the last two centuries. Now that we've rescued him from Blue Cosmos control, he's really not a bad person. He hates himself more than anyone else does for what he's done. He knows there can be no forgiveness for him. But that doesn't stop him from trying. And that's what makes him my friend. He loves those two girls with all his gigantic heart. He'd do anything for them. And, as you have probably heard, he's very protective of them. He wants to shelter them from the horridness of the real world. Which is why every guy they've been interested in has fled screaming into the night. Except you." Alkire replied. He sat down in his chair again, after pulling back Ysak's curtain so everyone could look at each other.

"That's a lot to digest." Kira noted.

"Take your time. None of you are going to be leaving those beds for a few days." Alkire advised. It was at that moment when Kisaka came back in, looking immensely relieved. He actually came over to Alkire and placed a hand on his shoulder in thanks.

"Thank you, Robert. I misjudged the situation, and judged you… from past experience." Kisaka admitted.

"No problem, sir. You were right to do what you did back then. But now is now, not then. With your permission, I'm going to go see Vlad." Alkire replied. Kisaka stopped him before he could get out the door.

"Tell Vlad that I can't forgive him… no matter what he does." Kisaka said in a low voice.

"He knows, sir. He knows." Alkire whispered in a sad voice, before leaving the room. Before Kisaka could say anything else, a stampede of girls came barging into the room. Cagalli and Lacus led the pack, but the other girls weren't more than nano-seconds behind. The girls split up upon entering the room like a river flowing through obstructions, each fork smoothly heading along the path of least resistance to get to where it was going, except with girls, not river forks. They all began talking at once, each trying to convey worry, happiness and relief all at once. All except for Miriallia, since Dearka was still unconscious and sedated from surgery. Mir just held his hand and placed it gently on her forehead.

"I guess this means you won't be resting your head on my shoulder for a while." Kira said, trying to be light hearted. Lacus burst into tears anyway. Kira knew that she probably would have done so no matter what he said, but he was still discomfited. "Lacus… Lacus." He repeated over and over again until she looked at him again.

"I was so frightened! I couldn't do anything to stop him! He… he was going to… going to…" She stammered.

"Hush. He's not going to do anything to you. Not when I'm around. We stopped him, Lacus. He's gone. We won." Kira told her.

She put her head on his stomach and cried. "It's… it's just… just that when he bit you and you were fighting on the ground. Your… your scream… it… it felt like he was tearing at my soul when you screamed. And then you went limp… so limp. And he slammed your head into the tree… you just fell down… like a rag doll. And I thought… I thought… that you… you were dead."

"It's okay. It's okay. I'm fine now. Especially since you are safe. It's okay." Kira kept repeating over and over again.

"I'm really okay." Athrun said to Cagalli in the next bed over. "It's just a bad sprain. They only have the brace on because of standard procedure for neck injuries."

"That's not what I'm crying about." Cagalli replied. "It's that I came so close to losing you again. When Zacharis pointed that gun at you I felt my heart stop. I thought I was going to helplessly see you gunned down before my eyes by that maniac." She sobbed.

"I should have come after him in the forest." Athrun said, clenching his fists in rage as he noted the deep purple and black bruises in the shape of human fingers on Cagalli's throat.

"You wouldn't have been able to do anything." Cagalli said sadly. Athrun looked at her indignantly. "It's nothing against you. But he took down Kira when Kira was in his berserk mode, and he did it without too much trouble. He did the same to Dearka, and that was AFTER I shot him in the shoulder. He nearly skinned Lacus alive after getting seven bullets pumped into him, kicked in the balls, clouted in the head and stabbed in the shoulder. Unless you had a rocket launcher with you, you couldn't have done anything. And even then, he might have dodged the rocket." Cagalli said placatingly.

"I still don't know whether to believe that or not." Athrun said. "Dodging bullets… that's just insane."

"Do you really think Dearka could have missed from twenty feet away with a fully automatic weapon?" Miriallia asked suddenly, appearing at the foot of the bed. Athrun shook his head. There was no way that Dearka, unwounded, would have EVER missed at that range, even with an unfamiliar weapon.

"No. He couldn't have missed. It's just so hard to believe." Athrun replied. "Almost as hard to believe as me getting my butt kicked by a Natural bimbo."

"She's not a Natural, actually." Kisaka said, clearing his throat. "I looked at the preliminary findings of her examination on the flight over here. She's been put in the critical care ward of this same hospital. She used to be a Natural, back when she was eight or so. But since then she's been pumped full of drugs that the books don't even have names for, as well as received both biological and mechanical implants of startling complexity."

"So what does that mean exactly?" Ysak asked, from where Chanel and Katie were fawning over him for being so brave.

"I don't know. But it seems more than likely that this Zacharis Frost… the one that got away despite what should have been mortal wounds, was also modified like she was. Doing so would have required a top end medical lab and billions of dollars in funds. There are few with the resources to do so and only one with the motivation to make Coordinator killers. Blue Cosmos." Kisaka replied.

"Hey… I just realized something. Where's Sai?" Kira asked. Everyone froze.

"That guy… the one supposedly in charge of the games but was actually the Blue Cosmos leader…" Miriallia began.

"Ray Sark was his name. Lieutenant Ray Sark of the Atlantic Federation Army." Kisaka provided.

"Ray Sark then. When Ray was gathering us to go out to the woods, he tried to go get Sai, but then came back and told us that Sai would be joining us later, after the games. But of course the games were just a ruse to get us set up for slaughter… so… you don't think they killed him, did they?" Mir asked in a small voice. Nobody answered. Nobody knew.

"I'll start investigating." Kisaka promised, getting up. Everyone else looked at each other, sobered by the realization. Somebody might not have made it. Somebody might not ever celebrate anything ever again. How could they have celebrated without knowing whether or not EVERYONE was okay?

------------------------------------------

"This is a fiasco! A disaster! A catastrophe! Captain, what do you have to say for yourself?" Cervantes Zunnichi raged, pacing back and forth across the floor of his office.

"They killed my boy. Shot him right in the head." Asmodeus Sark whispered, his eyes drained of all feeling.

"Captain… this operation to protect my daughter has cost us ten good people, eleven counting your son, one BCPU 5 is dead, our only BCPU 6 is going to be in intensive care for the next three months and Blue Cosmos is getting attacked in the media world wide for attacking children. What were you thinking?" Zunnichi said, so angry he couldn't even scream.

"Killing Lacus Clyne and her friends was not my idea. It was my sons. He died for it. That's enough, in my opinion." Sark said dangerously. "As for your daughter, she was busy banging herself silly with a boy named Sai Argyle the entire time. They flew to your Hawaiian estate shortly before the police arrived in Switzerland. They are both there now… still banging each other silly. The mission was completed successfully." Sark continued, heavy on the sarcasm. Zunnichi went white around the lips.

"I should kill you for speaking about my daughter that way." He mused.

"Then kill me! You think I want to live, having outlived my son? I want revenge! I don't care what I have to do, but I want to give those responsible what they deserve!" Asmodeus shot back. Zunnichi pursed his lips.

"Look, Asmodeus. I shouldn't have blamed you for the losses. It was your son's idea alone and like you said, he has more than paid for it, dying for the cause. You have my condolences, truly. I can give you some time off, if you need it. Our schedule has been pushed back by several months anyway."

"Damn time off! I want you to promise me that you'll devote some resources towards avenging my son! Call off a few preplanned riots or something and give me a team. I'll go root out those murderers and make an example of them. Mr. Zunnichi, I'm not going to ask for much. This doesn't have to be right away. Just promise me that it'll happen." Asmodeus replied.

"I promise, Asmodeus. I swear as one father to another that your son will be avenged. Just be patient. Now… you said my daughter is with someone at my estate?" Zunnichi said to his subordinate.

"His name is Sai Argyle. Father's name is Bruce Arglye. Family owns the former Argyle Industries on Heliopolis, which specialized in zero G industry and commerce. Formerly engaged to Flay Allister, deceased, daughter of the former Vice Foreign Minister of the Atlantic Federation. A crewmember of the Archangel class ship "Archangel". He was apparently on board from the moment Heliopolis was destroyed up until the end of the war. He served willingly as an Electronic Warfare Specialist during that time. All personal files indicate a high degree of natural intelligence and great aptitude for computer programming and electronics work. He's not bad looking either. 170 centimeters tall, blondish hair, brown eyes, and good fashion sense from what I can see. He's 17 now.

"I've heard of the Argyle's. A solidly middle upper class family. Really too bad about their company's holdings being destroyed. They would have been in my top five choices for our first space manufacturing subsidies for Mobile Suits. Where are his mother and father now?"

"Staying in the Atlantic Federation, in the old state of Colorado. They have some estates there. They are living off insurance payments and banked income. They are planning to pick Sai up from Switzerland in two weeks time."

"Can we divert them? And then send someone in their place to see who comes to greet them at the Swiss airport? That would go a long way towards figuring out who killed your son." Zunnichi asked.

"I can connect you with their house line later sir. I'm sure they'd be more than pleased to find out that their son is bedding your daughter."

Zunnichi winced. "Please, Asmodeus, use more tact. No father likes hearing about how his sweet daughter is sexually active, even with someone from an acceptable social station."

"Sorry sir. It's different with a son. You're proud then rather than uneasy."

"Quite. Now, give me the Argyle's phone number. And then arrange for a flight to Hawaii. You and I are going to go meet this Sai. I'm sure there's a lot he can tell us about a great many interesting things."

-----------------------------

"Sai…" Vanai said sleepily.

"Mmmm?" he replied, rolling over on the luxurious king sized bed so he could face her.

"Do you really love me?" she asked. Sai blinked.

"Of course. Whenever I look at you I feel like I'm taller than the clouds and lighter than air itself. My heart does flip flops and my mouth goes dry. If that's not love… then nothing is." Sai answered, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. Her red hair was spread out all over her side of the bed, like a fan of fire. She gazed back at him with yellow eyes that could be fierce, passionate and vulnerable all within seconds of each other. "Besides…" Sai reached out and laid a hand on her stomach, feeling her flesh through the thin sheets. "… I've certainly never done this with a girl I didn't love." _Though I certainly have with a girl that didn't love me. Flay and I had that one night together, the night our engagement was announced. And then she slept with Kira just to spite me._ Sai thought bitterly.

"Thank you. I've never been in love before. All the other guys have just wanted me because I'm beautiful." Vanai replied. "They didn't say sweet things to me or care about what I felt."

"I… I also know what that feels like. To have been used just because a girl thought I was good looking." Sai replied. Vanai snuggled closer to him and laid his head back down on the pillows. She held him close.

"Tell me about it. Maybe I can help you feel better." She said.

"Her name was Flay. Flay Allster. She was my fiancé. I thought we cared about each other. I certainly cared about her. I would have walked through fire for her. But then… on the way home on the Archangel, her father was killed. And after that she wasn't the same. Eventually she admitted to have been sleeping with my best friend, Kira Yamato, a Coordinator. After that she didn't even bother keeping their relationship a secret, from anyone on the ship. Not only did she cheat on me, but also she let the whole ship know that she had discarded me for someone she considered to be a better man. And that man happened to be my best friend, who never even told me. We… still aren't as friendly as we used to be, even now that Flay is dead." Sai poured out.

"Doesn't sound to me like this Coordinator, Kira, was much of a friend to you. I mean, he slept with your fiancé and didn't even try to stop her or anything, it sounds like to me. He may have been planning to all along. Flay sounds very beautiful, Kira was probably jealous. Even among friends, things like that can happen." Vanai said quietly.

"I don't know. I just don't know! I mean, Kira was a great guy and all… he risked his life for everyone on the ship innumerable times, even though we all knew he hated the very idea of fighting and killing. But how can I trust him again after he cuckolded me like that? I couldn't even get into a fight with him over it, because he's a Coordinator and I wouldn't have had a chance against him." Sai continued. Vanai held him closer still.

"It's okay, darling Sai. That part of your life is over. You don't have to worry about anyone forcing you apart from the people you love ever again. Even if my father told me this instant to dump you outside… I'd… I'd ignore him!" Vanai declared.

"Who is your father, anyway?" Sai asked, surprised that he hadn't done so earlier.

"You've heard of Cervantes Zunnichi, right?" she asked him in return.

"Of course. He's the CEO of Cosmos Weapons Manufacturers, and probably the third richest man in the world. So that's why you have so many huge houses. I'm overwhelmed." Sai replied, speaking truthfully.

"Your family isn't exactly poor either." She pointed out.

"True, but most of our holdings are space debris now. My family lives on bank interest and insurance pay offs these days. My dad is still in shock. It'll take some drastic work to get the company back in shape." Sai responded.

"Hey Sai?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm tired of talking about serious things. Are you rested?"

"Oh… yes."

---------------------------------

Several hours later Sai was brushing his teeth after getting out of the shower. He had initially gotten into the shower an hour ago, but then Vanai had joined him and they had both found out that Sai wasn't as exhausted as he had thought. That had extended the shower considerably. Sai pulled on some clothes recently purchased from an airport clothing store. It was just a loose white collared shirt with black slacks and a new belt. He went barefoot and left the shirt unbuttoned in the Hawaiian humidity. There was no one around to see, anyway. Or not anyone whom he didn't want to have see, to be more exact. Sai picked up a razor and shaved off the little stubble that he accumulated and then went back out into the main room of the seashore estate. Vanai wasn't around, though the door to the beach was open. Sai picked up his orange tinted sunglasses and sauntered outside. Vanai was sitting a few dozen yards away, at the very edge of the shoreline, where the waves just nipped at the tips of her toes. She was dressed in a plain black one piece bathing suit that looked like it had been spray painted on her. Sai headed over and sat down next to her.

"You sure your dad doesn't mind… you know… us?" he asked.

"I haven't exactly told him yet. It's only been about a day since I first met you. Hard to believe, isn't it?" Vanai replied.

"Yeah. But I believe it." Sai said, putting and arm around her shoulders.

"In answer to your question though, we'd know if daddy minded. He'd send Asmodeus to toss you out if he thought you were unsuitable. It's happened before. It's never fun for the hapless guy who didn't meet daddy's standards." Vanai said.

"Who's Asmodeus? He sounds like a person I'd not like to meet in a dark alley.

"Asmodeus is my father's chief of security. He's also a Captain in the Earth Forces Army Special Forces. He's actually a really nice man, though his son Ray is a total ass. He tried to rape me once, but I threatened to tell daddy and his father before he could. And then he wondered why I wouldn't spend time around him any more. He was a moron." Vanai informed him.

"If this Ray character ever comes around here, I think I'll have to punch him." Sai decided. Vanai shaded her eyes and looked out across the sea.

"That's funny, I didn't know there was a supply run coming in." she commented. "My father keeps this estate supplied by floatplane, since it sits on its own island. But I thought the next flight was Tuesday… it's only Sunday." She looked at him. "That was a really nice thing to say. You're getting me horny again." She whispered.

"I wish I could, love. But I'm as drained as a wrung dishrag. Manly failings and all that. Girls have more stamina or maybe you just recover faster." Sai replied. "Besides… that'd be the eighth time in twenty four hours… roughly once every three hours. That has to be some sort of record."

"I could always try to… motivate… you. I don't mind. There's no one around to see." Vanai said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Ummm…" Sai said, turning bright pink. Vanai licked her lips and drew closer, so that she was practically sitting on his lap. Before anything else could happen though, the seaplane passed by overhead and splashed down to a perfect landing in the surf about fifty yards off. Vanai looked at it in annoyance, her expression quickly changed to uncertainty.

"That's my daddy's personal transport plane. I wonder what he's doing here?" she said. Sai scooted away from her rapidly.

"I'll take responsibility. That way he'll only get mad at one of us." Sai volunteered. Vanai pulled him closer again.

"You'll do no such thing, love. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Its not like we've been doing something unnatural." Vanai reminded him.

"Unnatural no… immoral, maybe…illegal, yes." Sai responded. She slapped his arm in mild rebuke.

"It didn't feel against morals to me. Did it for you?" she asked.

"No." Sai replied after a moments consideration.

"As for illegal… on this island, my father is the ruler. He has no written laws forbidding underage or unmarried sex. So don't worry. We've done nothing wrong." Vanai told him.

"My head gets that. It's just my heart won't stop fluttering and a certain other part of me is trying to shrink into nothingness." Sai half joked. He gulped when the plane taxied into the shallows and a ramp extended out onto the beach. A tall, broad shouldered man in an expensive business suit walked out onto the beach. His white hair was impeccably styled and he had the same yellow eyes as Vanai. A short mustache and goatee bristled on his face. His face was only slightly lined, though he looked to be at least sixty. He carried a cane of what looked to be white stained wood with a yellow topaz the size of a man's thumb on the top. Behind him strode a man in a Captain of Special Forces uniform, obviously the man known as Asmodeus. Asmodeus had graying hair with thin upper lip mustachios that were still black. He had a wiry but muscular build that seemed to suggest endurance and arm strength along with lightning quick reflexes. Asmodeus's eyes were a blue so pale they looked whitish.

"Hey daddy!" Vanai called, waving her arm at Cervantes. Cervantes stepped briskly along the firm beach.

"So that's Sai Argyle. He certainly looks relaxed." Cervantes commented.

"He should… given that in the last twenty four hours he's climaxed seven times, three of those times in the last six hours. I'm surprised he was able to walk as far as he has." Asmodeus replied.

"I know I shouldn't ask this… but where do you get your information from?" Cervantes asked.

"You were the one who told me to bug all of your daughter's rooms once she reached puberty. It's just a manner of activating the right set. Which, sir, can only be done if you tell me so or in times of emergency, like last night." Asmodeus replied.

"Right… Asmodeus?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'll need a transcript of your recordings on my desk before I get to the office tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"Vanai… how have you been? I heard about the horrid happenings at the Swiss manor yesterday. I'm just glad you are all right." Cervantes said, giving his daughter a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

"What happenings?" Vanai asked.

"There was an accident at your party after you left. Ray was killed. A Coordinator shot him in the head." Asmodeus said bitterly. Vanai gasped.

"Oh no. Asmodeus, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I had invited any Coordinators." She told him, forcing tears out of her eyes when she really wanted to laugh and dance.

"It's not your fault dear. They're a sneaky bunch. Almost impossible to detect unless you know what to look for." Cervantes said.

"Um, sir?" Sai spoke up. Cervantes looked at him full on. Sai looked straight back, which pleased Cervantes. The boy had a spine. "What did the Coordinator who shot your chief of security's son look like?"

"He was wearing a ZAFT uniform, everyone thought it was just a politically incorrect costume. He had silver-ish hair, blue eyes and a large scar from just above his left eye that ended just above the bottom of his right cheek. He sneaked a ZAFT service pistol in as part of his costume. Why?" Asmodeus asked.

"I know that guy. His name is Ysak." Sai said slowly.

"Friend of yours?" Cervantes asked. Sai shook his head in denial.

"He's a friend of a friend of mine, but I personally think he's an anti-social jerk most of the time. He's the son of a PLANT Supreme Council member, Ezaria Jule. I hear he's been convicted in absentia up at the PLANTS for war crimes." Sai spilled out, his bitterness brought to the fore and keeping him speaking long past the point of no return.

"You don't say?" Asmodeus said, hiding his glee. This kid was going to be a gold mine.

"Is this Ysak the kind of person who would have a grudge against Naturals for any reason?" Cervantes asked.

"Hell, yes. Sorry for the language sir. But yes, definitely. He's always looked down on Naturals. He always berated his friends about their relationships with Naturals. He's the cold, unfeeling and arrogant type too. He was at the Panama massacres and he fought to defend the GENESIS laser when it was firing on Earth, killing Earth Forces personnel in the process." Sai informed them. He didn't know why he was being so negative about Ysak, but for some reason his bitterness at being betrayed by Flay for Kira was just spurring him on past all reason.

"Is he violent, this Ysak?" Asmodeus asked.

"He attacked two Natural girls… twins… when they came to see him out of love. He threw a knife through a door and nearly killed his best friend in the process later that same night. During the war he destroyed a shuttle full of fleeing civilians… all Heliopolis survivors… just out of spite. He is the pilot of the Duel, one of the Gundam's the ZAFT forces stole from Heliopolis. I sometimes felt physically threatened when he was about, for sure." Sai replied.

"He sounds like a monster. We should take him into custody as soon as possible, before he hurts someone else, maybe someone you know." Cervantes said, inwardly celebrating. This was just what he needed. Perfect!

"I can help you with that. I can give you the address of our apartment complex, the code to get in, stuff like that. If Ysak's started killing people, he needs to be stopped, and soon." Sai continued. Asmodeus and Cervantes looked like they wanted to hug each other. Vanai smiled radiantly and put her arms around Sai, pressing up against his back, hard. Cervantes just smiled.

"Sai Argyle… I think you and I are going to get along just fine. You and my daughter have my full blessings. I'm glad to see she finally found a responsible and upright man. And don't worry about your parents. I already called and talked to them. They're fine with you staying with Vanai as long as you want." Cervantes said.

"Thank you sir, that's a serious weight off my shoulders. But how did you know to call my parents?" Sai asked.

"Sai… Sai… I'm Cervantes Zunnichi. There is very little I don't know or can't learn. I found out that you were with my daughter and as a pure precaution, did a background check on you. I got a hold of your parents and told them you were no longer in Switzerland. They were overjoyed to learn that you had finally found a girlfriend you could trust." Cervantes said lightly.

"That is for sure, sir. I trust Vanai. With my heart, my life, with all I am." Sai replied.

"Very good. I'm glad to see that your depth of feeling is deep indeed. Why don't we get inside, out of this humidity? We can talk about many things, serious and not." Cervantes said, putting an arm around Sai's shoulders and his other arm around Vanai's shoulders and gently steering them back toward the house. Asmodeus saluted at his bosses back and went back to the transport plane, to get to work using the information Sai had just given them and to prepare the recording transcripts for reporting.


	13. Interlude 1

The days passed quickly, for everyone. For Sai and Vanai, they were spent in blissful and intimate happiness. Every day they swam and explored and played around the various Hawaiian Islands, having dinner at a different five star restaurant every day. Every night they spent together, in each others arms, re-consummating their vows of devotion. Sometimes under the stars, sometimes in a jungle bower, but most of the time in Vanai's bed at her father's Hawaiian estate. Asmodeus dutifully collected data on their every activity, so that soon there were gigabytes of video, picture and text data available on Vanai and Sai's every move, from sunup to sunup.

Cervantes spent several hours each day talking with Sai, either in person, or, more often, over the teleconference system installed in the common room of the estate. Cervantes always made sure to be on his best behavior and never mentioned any Blue Cosmos business while Sai was around. They quickly developed a genuine sense of respect for each other and by the end of the first week, Cervantes hired Sai as a mid level manager at his Hawaiian technology station. Sai worked hard and did well, applying some of the things he had seen on the Eternal and Kusanagi to the existing Earth Forces technology. Meanwhile, Sai was also unwittingly contributing everything he knew to Asmodeus's case file against Ysak.

Back in Switzerland, Kira, Athrun, Dearka and Ysak had mostly recovered from their wounds, though Dearka still was out of breath after doing running and Ysak still walked awkwardly at times. Lacus, Cagalli and Miriallia had been going to counseling to deal with the recurring nightmares they had all been having about Zacharis. For once, Kira and Athrun had been able to offer advice to the girls, rather than the other way around, since they knew all about recurring nightmares. Chanel and Katie had bounced back as hale and hearty as ever, and spent as much time as possible with Ysak. Ysak had changed. He was still gruff, arrogant and grouchy, but he no longer glared so often or berated Dearka and Athrun for their relationship choices. He also didn't run away from or send Chanel and Katie away from him, though he was very, very careful to limit public displays of affection to arm holding or handholding. What he did in private nobody knew, though Chanel and Katie were known to giggle and trade LOOKS whenever someone wondered.

Athrun and Cagalli were quickly back to their old activities, wowing their friends with their insatiable desire for each other. Kira had started watching them like a hawk… a fiercely protective, Ultimate Coordinator hawk but a hawk nonetheless, which put a crimp on their more outrageous behavior and caused a few shouting matches between Athrun and Kira, mostly about who had initiated what with whom. Dearka and Miriallia continued at their slow and safe pace, learning as much about each other as possible. They learned that each had a love of nature and so spent long walks in the countryside, though they avoided forests, having had too recent a bad experience in one to be comfortable.

Kira and Lacus, on the other hand, went through several stressful periods, with first one, then the other getting seriously depressed and moody. However, their relationship slowly got back on track, like a gyroscope that is tipped on one side, only to wobble until it regains its balance. They had several fights, but nothing irrecoverable was said and they managed to work through them, being both extremely patient and gentle people at heart.

Of course, everyone was worried very greatly about Sai, but Kisaka, along with Raine's and Alkire's help had managed to find out that Sai had left on a plane with a Ms. Vanai Zunnichi before the police had arrived at her estate. Their destination was unknown but Sai was assumed to be alive, since his body hadn't turned up anywhere in the world. Kisaka kept working on it as long as possible, before he was called back to Orb in his duties as Regent. After he left, Alkire and his TEMPEST crew worked on the problem instead. They also provided security around the apartment complex where everyone lived. At all times, either Vladimir or James was on duty, watching for suspicious or dangerous activity. This had actually sparked a few confrontations, like when Vladimir had come upon Athrun and Cagalli hidden under a bush, having escaped Kira's notice for the moment. All of the Coordinators were nervous around Vladimir, even though they could see he really was a gentle and kind person at heart. It just wasn't possible for them to let go of their unease though, especially not after they had seen his kill counters.

Vladimir had killed, with his own two hands, often by strangling, seventy three ZAFT soldiers, two hundred and eighty four civilian Coordinators of both sexes and five hundred and ninety seven Coordinator children under age 12 of both sexes. Single handedly, he had wiped out almost one thousand Coordinators, most of them too young to defend themselves. It felt odd to the Coordinators to actually meet THE bogeyman of modern mythos. The man that actually had come in the night to steal children, though whether they had been bad or good was immaterial. None of them ever fell asleep easily when Vladimir was on night watch until eventually he only took day watches, noting their unease.

Vladimir was also disturbing in that both his arms were false, all the way up to the shoulder. They weren't the flesh-like prosthetics most people had, which just simulated the appearance of a limb, but had no functionality, except for the most basic of movements. No, Vladimir's limbs were new, experimental models, acquired from some lab that no one would talk about. They had wires that connected directly to his nervous system, with a computer chip that could translate nerve signals into computer commands. Each was flat black in color and looked like nothing more than a bulky skeletal arm, with rough edged fingers for gripping traction. They didn't feel pain or get tired and could lift four times what a normal human could. They could also grip tight enough to shatter stone. Vladimir wore long sleeved shirts and heavy gloves most of the time, to keep from frightening other people. He also spent as much of his time as possible alone in his basement, only coming out for meals and duty watches. It was discovered that he prayed for the souls of his victims all day long, devoting a small shrine to each and every one as he begged continuously for forgiveness he knew he did not deserve.

In short, it was a period of discovery, love and anticipation. However, like all such good times, it could never last for long enough.


	14. The Coordinator Thing

Kira was doing some history homework, really mind numbing stuff, one afternoon after school. Everyone else was out and about doing their various things. Ysak was at the shooting range with Chanel and Katie and Raine, learning how to shoot better… though Ysak would never admit it. Dearka and Miriallia were off collecting samples for biology class… and enjoying nature and each other while doing so. Lacus and Cagalli had gone off to do girl stuff… hair styling, manicures and other things in preparations for the double date that Kira and Athrun were doing tonight. Dearka had found a Thai restaurant that he had raved about several times and so Athrun and Kira had decided to check it out.

Athrun, meanwhile was taking automotive engineering lessons from Alkire and Vladimir. Several days ago, on one of the crazy whims he was trying to configure into his personality, he had gone off and bought a sleek motorcycle. Kira hadn't been surprised that Athrun had been able to buy the motorcycle, even though it was a top of the line model, since Athrun still had access to his family accounts and their money wasn't being used by anyone but him at the moment. What had surprised Kira was that Athrun had no idea how to ride or maintain his new motorcycle. Vehicles in the PLANTS were computer controlled for safety reasons, and the new motorcycle was most decidedly NOT computer controlled or controllable. It didn't even have any computer chips in it.

So Athrun was taking maintenance lessons from Vladimir, who was a mechanical engineering genius by all accounts and driving lessons from Alkire, who claimed to have flown, driven or piloted just about any vehicle conceivable, short of a Mobile Suit. Kira was still struggling to deal with the idea of Athrun being so adventuresome as to buy a motorcycle in the first place. As long as he had known Athrun, Athrun had been methodical, logical and composed. Ever since the end of the war though, Athrun had been becoming impulsive, adventurous and unpredictable at times. It was like being around Cagalli so much had started to rub off on him.

Kira frowned, trying not to think about Athrun and Cagalli. He knew he was being a stick in the mud older brother by watching them so closely all the time, but he couldn't help it. The idea of having a sister at all was still new to him, much less that she was involved with his best friend. His emotions conflicted, because on one hand he wanted to shelter Cagalli away and keep her safe, while on the other he was wishing his best friend well and good luck. For the moment Kira contented himself with making it extremely difficult for them to get away with any outrageous behavior that might escalate their relationship to a level he didn't want to contemplate.

"Why can't they be like Lacus and me? Or Dearka and Miriallia? Or even Ysak, Chanel and Katie? Why do they have to rush into things? They're going to end up going too far and they'll both regret it." Kira said out loud, putting away his homework in disgust. As long as he had ANYTHING more interesting to think about, he couldn't do that work.

"Hey Kira." James Ramsgoth said, sweeping through the common room casually, like he did six or so times every time he was on watch. James kept one hand near his pistol at all times and swept the room intently with his eyes, even though there was no possible way that anyone could have possibly snuck in. "Stuck doing homework eh? But at least you got a fun night ahead of you."

James completed his sweep and left to walk up the fire escape to his rooftop circuit. As he cast his glance around, James suddenly froze and then dropped to the ground. Two people were driving by slowly in a dark blue car he didn't recognize as normal for the area. At the beginning of the path to the apartment complex the car stopped and the two people, one a man with wild brown hair and a blue greatcoat, the other a woman with straight brown hair and a plain white blouse in blue jeans got out. "Vlad, you there?" James said over his radio.

"Yes James, what is it? I'm in the middle of a delicate process here." Vlad replied.

"The kids expecting any visitors today? A man and a woman, both look like late twenties-early thirties?" James asked. There was a moment's pause as Vlad conferred with Athrun, who was lying next to him underneath the body of the motorcycle as Vlad demonstrated how to put the fuel pump back together. Athrun's bike was a really old antique model that still ran on liquid fuels. Vlad had had to modify it to run off hydrogen fuel cells before Athrun could drive it anywhere.

"That's a negative. No visitors are expected. Repeat, negative, no visitors." Vlad replied. "You want me to come over?" he asked a moment later.

"Nah, I think Victor and I can get it." James replied. Victor was somewhere on the grounds of the apartment complex, relaxing and taking time off in anticipation of taking the night watch later, but he had undoubtedly listened in to the conversation between Vlad and James.

"Okay. See you later." Vlad said and signed off.

"Victor?"

"Ja, James, I heard. I'm moving to get a closer look at them as we speak. Wait one, and I'll get you a better description." Victor said back. Roughly thirty seconds later, as the two people were still moving slowly up the walk, taking their sweet time, Victor radioed James again. "They don't look very threatening. The man is an arm amputee, has lost an eye and walks with the aid of a cane. And of the two, he looks to be the more threat capable. The woman seems slightly… make that more than slightly… out of it. She's not very responsive and probably wouldn't even be moving if the man weren't helping her along. That's the reason they're moving so slowly. He has to help her along, and he's already a cripple."

"Dramatic entrance?" James asked. Victor chuckled.

"You bet. I'll do my sword point thing as soon as they get to the welcome mat. You do the serious shooting if it becomes necessary."

"Roger." James replied, drawing his pistol and tracking the man and woman as they hobbled along. Meanwhile, Victor doubled back and entered the apartment hall from the other side. He raced silently down the hallway and drew his saber as he reached the far end. He stole a glance through the peephole to check the range to the targets.

"I'm in position."

"I'll do the countdown. 5… 4… 3… 2 1/2 … 2… 1… NOW!" James ordered just as the man put his foot on the welcome mat. Victor yanked the door open and his sword licked out, holding steady with nary a quiver with the edge just barely touching the underside of the man's chin. "I've got the woman covered." James radioed, drawing a bead on her head.

"Who are you?" Victor demanded of the man, who didn't look at all perturbed or surprised to have a sword at his throat.

"My name is Andrew Waltfeld." Waltfeld replied. Victor flicked his eyes at the woman, she just stared listlessly off into space.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"She's Murrue Ramius." Waltfeld answered. Victor glanced back at him and then gave a slight nod.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came to visit Kira Yamato and his friends. We're old comrades of his." Waltfeld informed the lanky man who held a sword to his throat. "May I ask who you are?"

Victor ignored him. "The kids aren't expecting any visitors today."

"Given that I didn't decide to come here until earlier this morning myself, that's not totally surprising." Waltfeld answered lightly. Murrue kept staring off into space, her eyes half closed.

"What's her deal?" Victor asked, indicating Murrue by flicking his eyes.

"She's the reason I decided to drop by. She's in post trauma shock. She lost two men she loved very deeply during the war, one only a few minutes before the war ended. A week ago or so she just fell into this fugue state and we haven't been able to rouse her. I figured maybe if she spent some time with Kira and the others she befriended during the war, she might snap out of it." Waltfeld replied. "Who did you say you were again?" he asked, a bit more forcefully.

Victor ignored him again. "You'll pardon me, but this whole thing seems suspicious. You just decided to drop by, without even calling ahead, so you can snap this woman out of her fugue? You're either the most disorganized man alive, or you're feeding me a line." Victor said in a frozen tone. Waltfeld got tired of talking to this belligerent man. Murrue needed help. With a single quick motion he brought his cane up and slapped away the sword point at his chin and pinned it against the ground in a break-lock maneuver, so that if the swordsman did anything but leave it still, Andrew would snap the blade of the sword like a twig.

"Please tell me your name. I don't like talking to a stranger about personal matters." Waltfeld asked politely. Victor stared in shock. The man had moved like lightning. Victor had barely even begun to react and his sword blade had already been trapped.

"I'm… my name is Victor. My partner has you and the woman covered, so it'd be smart of you to just back down."

Waltfeld sighed. "Look. Why don't you just go ask Kira or Athrun or Cagalli or miss Lacus if they want to meet Andrew Waltfeld and Murrue Ramius. I'm sure that will show you that this is all one big misunderstanding."

"I heard that." James radioed. Victor's earpiece kept only him aware of what was said. "I'll go ask the kid. If he gives a negative answer, I'll blow his other arm off and you take care of the woman. Shut the door behind you so they can't get a look at me."

Victor shut the door behind him. "We're asking them."

Waltfeld nodded. "Thank you. I didn't know Kira and the others had bodyguards. I wouldn't have thought they needed them. Or had the resources to hire them. Unless it was Ledonir who hired you to watch over them."

"You're on a first name basis with Kisaka?" Victor asked in disbelief.

"So you know whom I'm talking about? Did Ledonir hire you to watch over Kira and the others? I wish he had told me that he had put protection around them, I would have called ahead if I had known." Waltfeld replied.

"Kisaka knows we're guarding them, but he didn't hire us. We're doing volunteer work. They've become an extension of our family. We owe them, you might say, and this is how we're paying them back." Victor replied. Still nothing from James.

"Owe them? Don't we all? Without Kira and the others this place would be a barren radioactive waste right now, wouldn't it?" Waltfeld replied, his eye going distant.

"What are you talking about?" Victor asked.

"You're not guarding them because of how they destroyed the GENESIS laser and saved the Earth?" Waltfeld asked, caught off guard for once.

"Hell no, I don't know about any of what you just said. I don't even know Kira or Athrun very well. We're only guarding them because they're Ysak's friends." Victor replied. Waltfeld gaped and then started laughing.

"That's not something I thought I'd ever hear. Ysak makes friends with a bunch of special ops Naturals and gets them to guard his friends? He didn't even consider them friends, last time I checked." Waltfeld gasped out.

"You're a Coordinator… aren't you?" Victor said.

"Yep. I thought you knew that already. Please say you've heard of me." Waltfeld replied.

"Nope."

"Maybe my nickname will jog your memory. They used to call me "The Desert Tiger"."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Your name did sound familiar… but I'm afraid that Andrew Waltfeld is dead, killed months ago."

"Half of me was, yes." Waltfeld replied. "Aisha died too. I really shouldn't have pushed that fight against Kira."

"You fought against him… yet you claim to be a friend?"

"The war was confusing that way. I'm sure you knew that already though."

Victor's earpiece crackled. "It's an all clear. Kira says let them in. They're friends of his."

"What's the news?" Waltfeld asked. Victor narrowed his eyes even more.

"What? How did you know that my companion just contacted me?"

"Oh come on… I am a Coordinator. I heard you draw your sword from five feet away, when you were still behind the door. I can't hear what your friend said, but I can guess from the fact that no gunfire has broken out that he actually did ask Kira and Kira said that we were good people. Can we go in now?" Waltfeld answered.

"I suppose."

-----------------------------------

"Mr. Waltfeld! Ms. Murrue! It's great to see both of you!" Kira said moments later, when the door to the boys side of the complex opened. Kira's greeting trailed off when he saw Murrue. "What happened?"

"Still the same thing." Waltfeld replied, limping over to a chair. Murrue wandered into the room with hesitant steps, almost tripping over a loose piece of carpet but catching herself and moving on as if she didn't even notice. "La Flaga's death still troubles her."

Kira nodded. "I was sad too, when I heard that Mu died. But he died saving Murrue and everyone else on board the Archangel. I think Mu was happy he could do that."

"Hey, I'm not arguing with you kid. She collapsed on duty about a week ago. When she woke up she was like this. She'd been holding her grief in ever since Jachin Due and I guess it just got to be too much for her. I was hoping maybe seeing you and the others would help her get back in touch with herself." Waltfeld said.

"Wait a minute… you knew the Hawk of Endymion?" Victor asked, from his post by the door.

"He was my friend. He was like a mentor to me, for the first part of my time in the war. He and Murrue loved each other." Kira said sadly. "They'd probably be married now if he hadn't died, shielding the bridge of the Archangel from a lohengrin blast using his Mobile Suit during the battle of Jachin Due at the end of the war."

Murrue sat down and tears started trickling from her eyes. "She does that whenever she hears Mu's name." Waltfeld said. "Other than that, she doesn't respond to outside stimuli very often. She hasn't eaten but a few times in the last week. I'd say she's lost the will to live. I don't know how to help her get it back." Waltfeld paused before going on. "But I'll wait until everyone gets together before we keep going down that path. Until then, why don't you fill me in on what you've been doing since we sent you down to Earth? I'm particularly interested in hearing this story about Ysak and your self appointed bodyguards."

Kira busied himself in explaining about how everyone was doing, what he or she was doing and the like. He explained about the burgeoning relationships between him and Lacus, Athrun and Cagalli, Dearka and Miriallia and even about Ysak, Chanel and Katie, which raised Waltfeld's eyebrow. Then Kira got into the more problematic history and related the tale of the party, including how everyone had been hospitalized and how Sai had gone missing and in fact was still missing.

"You guys certainly haven't been taking it as easy as I hoped you would." Waltfeld remarked. "Murrue, Ledonir and I agreed to send you down here because you needed to relax and get away from the fighting and the problems of the day. But now it seems like the fighting and the problems have followed you here to Switzerland. You were barely here five days before twelve people were killed, all of you were hospitalized and Sai was either kidnapped or went AWOL. Now it's been nearly a month since then and Sai's still missing, you're still not sure who tried to kill you, besides the general definition of Blue Cosmos and you've only just started to relax like you were supposed to."

"Sorry sir. I guess things don't always go as planned." Kira said meekly. Waltfeld glared at him.

"Don't give me that. If I didn't know better, I'd probably think you actively sought out trouble, rather than the other way around."

"I'm still concerned about Sai. And about Zacharis. He's still out there." Kira said. Waltfeld shook his head.

"Are you sure you told me right about him? You made it sound like this Zacharis guy was dodging bullets and the like."

"He was dodging bullets." James said from the doorway. "I fired a good two hundred rounds from a heavy machine gun at him from thirty feet away and only managed to achieve grazes and one limb hit. I could hit a man sized target with one hundred ninety out of two hundred bullets at ninety feet when I'm dead drunk. It wasn't me, it was him. I don't know how, but he was avoiding my shots."

"It's just so crazy." Waltfeld noted.

"Not arguing with you there." James replied. He flopped down on an empty chair at the far end of the table. "So you're the Desert Tiger. I heard you were dead."

Waltfeld gestured at his scarred eye, empty sleeve and his cane. "I nearly was. My LaGowe blew up around me after Kira stabbed it in the head. If it hadn't been for DaCosta, I'd have perished of my wounds out there in the desert. Aisha died in my arms before the doctors could arrive." He explained.

"I'm very sorry sir." Kira said, casting his eyes down.

Waltfeld shrugged. "It saddens me that Aisha died, but I was the one who continued fighting when you had clearly won. I forced you to choose between letting yourself die and killing me. You chose to live, like any rational person would do. We've been over this before."

"I'm going to call Vladimir and let him know everything is okay. I wouldn't want him and Alkire to come storming in here thinking the worst." Victor said suddenly. He went out into the hall and shut the door.

"Who are you people anyway?" Waltfeld asked James.

"We're probably what you would term a resistance group. We call ourselves TEMPEST. We're fighting to destroy those who would cause war in the first place. Alkire Majesty… which is an assumed name, as you probably guessed, is our leader and main sponsor. He used to be EFSOU (Earth Forces Special Operations Unit) during the war, but when he found out about the plan to nuke the PLANTS rather than solve the energy crisis he quit in disgust. Victor, whose surname is Klein, out there is our demo man, he was trained by the Eurasian Federation Special Forces. I'm heavy weapons. James Ramsgoth is my name. I served in the AFAR (Atlantic Federation Army Rangers). Raine Belaruse is our sniper, she's self-taught. And then there's Vladimir Valkavich, our infiltration expert. His story is complex, but suffice it to say he's from the former Kingdom of Scandinavia and he's worked as a mercenary for most of his life. Switzerland is where we live and stay when we aren't out on missions." James explained.

"I assume you know Colonel Kisaka, judging from Victor's reaction outside." Waltfeld noted.

James nodded. "He taught a class in guerilla warfare a few years before the war that we all attended. It's actually how we all first met. We… don't get along with Kisaka… for personal reasons." At that moment there was a loud rumbling sound from outside. James leaned back in his chair and glanced idly out the window. "I see Vlad and Athrun have fixed his motorcycle."

Kira jumped up out of his chair and hurried outside, anxious to see his friend. Athrun was just taking off his helmet and was stowing it on the handlebars when Kira got outside. Athrun was clad in a recently purchased black leather jacket with fingerless black leather gloves and black jeans. Cagalli found the look irresistible and was usually all over him. Kira was glad she wasn't around right now, actually, because the last thing he needed was to be worrying about keeping them within legal bounds when Mr. Waltfeld and Captain Ramius were visiting. A bright blue Ferrari, Alkire's favorite car, parked behind Athrun and Alkire and Vlad got out.

"We have visitors?" Athrun asked, finally finished with his parking checklist.

"Hello, Mr. Zala." Waltfeld waved from the doorway.

"Commander Waltfeld? What are you doing here?" Athrun asked, taken by surprise.

"It's a long story. It's best it wait until everyone gets back." Kira replied. A funny ringing noise came from Athrun's jacket pocket.

"That's a call for me… hold on." Athrun said, taking out a small cell phone. He listened for a few seconds and then said "Uh huh. See you soon. Love you, bye." He looked at Kira. "That was Cagalli. She and Lacus are done with their trip. They'll be back in about twenty minutes."

"I didn't know you had a cell phone." Kira commented.

"Just bought it a few days ago. So I could keep in touch with Cagalli and the rest of you."

"You certainly are buying lots of things recently. Motorcycle… Jacket… Cell Phone… that's a lot of stuff." Kira told him.

"Just going with the flow, acting on impulse. It's something that Cagalli's been having me do. She thinks it'll help us get closer together." Athrun replied.

"You're too close for my comfort most of the time as it is." Kira muttered.

"Don't you start that again." Athrun warned. "She may be your sister… younger or older, it doesn't really matter… but she's my girlfriend. And she's sixteen, going on seventeen. You can't make decisions for her. Or for me. You don't see me interfering when you want to be alone with Lacus, do you?"

"I'm not trying to do the same thing with Lacus that you are trying to do to Cagalli." Kira protested, blushing slightly.

"I'm not TRYING to do anything like what you think. It just sort of happens that way. I get caught up in the moment. And so does Cagalli."

"You may not be trying to… but it's certainly happening anyway. Within the first minute one or the other of you loses their shirt and sometime in the next three minutes you're both half naked. I just don't want either of you to do something in the passion of the moment that you'll regret later." Kira argued. Athrun glared at him, hands on hips. He leaned close.

"What makes you think either of us'd regret it?" he whispered. "Don't you mean you don't want either of us to do something in the passion of the moment that'd make you uncomfortable? That's what I think you mean."

"We should stop arguing." Kira said forcefully, half turning away.

"Why? Because you're losing?" Athrun asked scornfully.

"No. Because I'm starting to feel like I want to punch you. And I know we'll both regret what happens if I do that." Kira answered.

"Fine. But listen to me, Kira. I want you to think about this real hard. Is making yourself feel comfortable worth the pain you're making Cagalli and I go through? Is it really fair for you to make such an important decision for us ahead of time without even consulting us on how we feel? By the end of the night, I want you to tell me what you've come up with for an answer. Please." Athrun told Kira with more than a hint of anger. He then walked up the sidewalk to greet Waltfeld.

"If you keep going at this rate, you're going to drive your friend off." Alkire noted laconically, walking up behind Kira. Kira glared at him. "You don't have to listen to me, kid. But if you keep trying to control what Athrun does… you're going to lose your friendship with him. I know, I've lost some good friends the very same way."

"But I don't want him and Cagalli to… to… to…" Kira stammered, unable to get the word out.

"Become intimate? Dude, if there was ever a choice that WAS NOT yours, that would be it." Alkire said. "I mean, hypothetically speaking here, how would you feel if Athrun kept you and Lacus from expressing true love in that fashion… just because he was uncomfortable with the idea of you having sex with his former fiancé?" Kira didn't say anything. Alkire sighed. "Okay, let's try this then. Would you be doing the same things if Dearka and Miriallia were trying to have sex? Miriallia is your friend of long standing. You certainly have at least as strong a relationship with her as you do with Cagalli. So would you try and stop them, too?"

"No. It's not the same."

"It is the same. Cagalli may be your sister, but she's also her own person. Tell me I'm wrong, if you can. You wouldn't have reacted like this at all if Cagalli had never revealed to you that you were siblings. Am I wrong?"

Kira paused a long moment. "No. You're not wrong. But she IS my sister. That makes it different."

Alkire sighed heavily again. "Okay then… plan C. If you really feel so strongly about all this… get into a fight. Provoke him. Duke it out. Beat each other bloody. Rant and scream at each other. I guarantee you'll feel better afterwards. Part of the problem is you're holding back most of your feelings and thoughts. Get them out into the open so they can be addressed, instead of letting them fester. Doesn't matter who wins, as long as you get your feelings across. Fists can sometimes communicate much more meaningfully than words."

Kira stared at him. "That seems awfully illogical."

"Who said logic had anything to do with this? Love is about the most illogical thing out there. Look how its making you feel. Look how it's making Athrun and Cagalli act. None of this is rational. It's all a gut instinct thing. You trying to impose logic and rationality on it is what's causing the problem." Alkire said. "Anyway, you don't have to listen to me. In fact, a normal teenager wouldn't. Just know that you're the one at fault here, really."

Kira said nothing.

Alkire sighed again. He tossed Kira a key ring. "You can use my car for tonight. It's a sure bet that Athrun and Cagalli are going to ride his bike. I couldn't let you take a taxi to the restaurant. Just… don't crash. That car is worth more than you'd believe."

"But I don't know how to drive." Kira protested.

"It's a physical activity that requires good reflexes and rational thinking. You're a Coordinator, you'll do fine. It's only the emotional stuff Coordinators have issues with." Alkire replied, walking up the sidewalk to the apartment. Kira was left at the street, staring at his back, mouth hanging slightly open.

--------------------------------------------------

"I think I found one of those whatchamacallits!" Dearka announced, from his position at the bank of the stream.

"A frog?" Miriallia asked, from her post a few feet away, where she was examining the moss on the rocks by the stream's edge.

Dearka stuck his tongue out at her. "No, not a frog. If it was a frog, I'd have said "I think I found a FROG", not "I think I found a whatchamacallit"."

"Oh, I'm sorry for not noting the semantic differences in your descriptive terms. Whatchamacallit is pretty general." Miriallia replied, mock annoyed.

"It's got a hard shell, two claws, antennae and lots of legs. Begins with a "C", but I can't think of the word. That help?" Dearka shot back.

"Crayfish. It's a crustacean, related to a lobster. We need to either draw one or take a picture of one for the assignment due on Friday… two days from now." Mir identified.

"One crayfish, coming up. C'mere, you little bastard. OUCH!" Dearka cried. He waved his hand about, a six inch long crayfish attached by its claws to his forefinger. "Get it off me! Get it off me!"

Mir rolled her eyes. Sometimes guys were so helpless. She walked over to where Dearka was grappling with his miniscule assailant. With a dexterous movement, she pulled open the claws and took the crayfish into her own hands. It immediately froze, trying to pretend it was dead. "How did you do that?" Dearka asked from his position lying on the ground.

"Do what?" she asked, crouching down next to him.

"Make it so passive? It was murdering me a few seconds ago, but in your hands it's as tame as a puppy."

Mir rolled her eyes again. Because she did so, she was unprepared for Dearka suddenly throwing his arms around her waist. With a yelp she dropped the crayfish, which wasted no time in scuttling back into the stream. Dearka pulled her down on top of him and smiled radiantly at her. "Does your amazing power work on other animals besides crustaceans?" he asked expectantly. Mir cupped his face with her hands.

"Let me see." She said. Dearka moved his hands to more strategic locations. Mir took one hand away from his face and moved his right hand up, back above her waistline. "I guess it takes some time to take effect." She murmured. His hand started to inch its way down again. "I do have a sterner method to employ if the subject proves resistant to the passivity technique." She informed him. His hand stopped moving.

"You take all the fun out of it." he mock complained.

"The crayfish is escaping." She noted.

"Let him. I'm not going to touch the thing with a ten foot pole until I get some gloves on." Dearka decided.

"We should really be working on our biology homework."

"We should." He agreed, but did not release her. "Do you mind if I consider you biology homework?"

"Only if you try to skip ahead to chapter fourteen."

Dearka blushed. Chapter 14 was the reproductive cycle and human anatomy. "That's still a few months in the future. We might not even get that far. You know how school is. Always more ambitious than practical."

"I don't mind ambition." Mir replied, resting her head on his chest. They both remained silent for a while, just enjoying the moment.

"I don't even know if it would work anyway. I'm a second generation Coordinator." Dearka said, with a hint of bitterness.

"What do you mean?" Mir asked.

"I'm the child of two Coordinators whose parents were Naturals. The higher the generation of a Coordinator is, the less likely they are to have children. Third generation Coordinators are pretty rare. Fourth generation Coordinators are even scarcer. There were only a couple 4th Gens in all of ZAFT." Dearka explained.

"Why?" Mir asked.

"Nobody knows. As you can imagine, it's a major problem that the PLANTS are doing everything possible to address. Maybe in the process of refining a person's genes to make them a Coordinator, they edit out some of the compatibility with other genes that results in children after sex." Dearka answered. "And then, even if they do have children, those children's genes are successively more selective in what or who they choose to be compatible with."

"That's horrible… does that mean you might not be able to… have…" the word caught in her throat.

"The plumbing works just fine." Dearka insisted, turning crimson. "It's just that I might be sterile, or effectively so."

"Doesn't that bother you?" she asked.

"A hell of a lot. Especially recently. I've been afraid of bringing it up. I didn't know how you would react. This doesn't… change anything… does it?" Dearka asked morosely. Mir held him closer.

"Never. I could never do that to you. Don't even think it." she said, tears trickling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry Mir. I should never have doubted you for a moment." Dearka answered, tears coming to his eyes too. "Thank you Mir. You're the best."

"We're still going to wait though." She reminded him. He nodded as best he could in his current position.

"Of course."

"Dearka?"

"Yes?"

"Does… Athrun…"

"Yep. Same problem. Ysak too. And Lacus, for that matter. It affects girls just as often as guys. Kira's okay though, because he's a 1st Gen. Though since he's with Lacus, it doesn't matter if he's okay in that manner." Dearka told her.

"That's so sad." Mir commented. "Have they brought it up yet?"

"Beats me. Likely not though. It is… pretty personal. If they have, they certainly haven't told me about it."

"So… one way or another… there's a chance that none of our friends will be able to have children in their current relationships?" Mir asked hesitantly.

"That's the situation in a nutshell." Dearka said, holding her tightly.

"I'm going to talk with Cagalli and Lacus. This is something we all need to have out in the open." Mir decided. "You talk with Ysak. I don't know Chanel or Katie well enough to bring this sort of subject up with them."

"You want me to ask Ysak to publicly suggest he might be sterile? In front of BOTH his girlfriends and all his friends? Are you trying to have me get killed?" Dearka protested.

"I still don't see how they can both be his girlfriends. I'd get frightfully jealous, sharing a man like that." Mir switched topics. Dearka sighed.

"I don't understand either. It's like they're two halves of the same person. They think slightly differently from each other… Katie is more like Cagalli, while Chanel is more like Lacus… but they dress the same, talk the same and look the same. I still don't know their story, beyond that they were supposed to have "suffered very much" in the war. They don't act traumatized, in my opinion." Dearka responded.

"Like most guys, you really are blind sometimes." Mir said. Dearka made a rumble of protest. "Its easy to see how traumatized they are. Normal, happy girls don't learn jujitsu throws and pistol marksmanship with the same glee as they reserve for picking out cute dresses and eating ice cream. Nor do well-adjusted girls with happy backgrounds cling to the people in their life like limpets; as if afraid the person will be ripped from them at any moment. They also have next to no concept of how nudity makes people uncomfortable, which suggests to me that they were denied clothing for quite some time during their formative years. Their casual attitude towards sexual activity… they don't even blush when they walk in on Athrun and Cagalli when they get going… or blink when the word "sex" comes up, suggests things I don't want to think about." Mir lectured him.

"You know, when you explain it like that, you make a lot of sense. You are completely right." Dearka said, his tone full of amazement.

"Of course I'm right. I'm a girl. I would have thought you'd have figured that much out at least."

"That you're a girl? I most definitely have." Dearka replied, rolling over so that he was on top. He made sure not to rest his weight on her and leaned down to kiss her fully on the lips. Mir's eyes half closed. She moved her hands to more strategic locations. Dearka's eyes widened. "Someone's skipping ahead a few chapters."

"Shut up and kiss me." she ordered. By the time they parted, it was almost dark.

"I think we missed our ride. Ysak told us to meet him at the base of the hill… let's see… four hours ago. Where did the time go?" Dearka commented.

"I don't know about where time goes, but I do know where something went." Mir replied archly.

"What? What are you talking about, I didn't do anything…" Dearka trailed off. Sometime during the last five hours or so, they had managed to kick both of their backpacks into the stream without noticing. That they didn't notice wasn't surprising, since Dearka probably wouldn't have noticed Rau Le Crueset come back to life nearby with a marching band in attendance. Every last bit of their paper… notebooks, assignments, notes… everything was a sodden mass of paper pulp now. Their expensive Biology books were totally ruined. "Damn." Dearka said. A few months ago he'd have said something a lot more poignant, but his time with Mir had weaned him off that kind of language. He fished the bags out of the stream and watched as the paper slopped out onto the ground.

"We're screwed." Mir decided. "I had all my school stuff in that backpack. I'll never be able to get everything back in two days. And there are a lot of big tests coming up in the next few days. I'm going to fail them all, because I can't study now." She said, her voice starting to get hysterical.

"Then let's just drop out. It's not like we need to go to school. Its just part of our cover." Dearka said. Mir looked at him like he was insane. "What?"

"How would we support ourselves if we don't get an education? We wouldn't get very good jobs."

"I've already graduated from school in the PLANTS, which has a lot higher standards than this school does. And I've actually got a five-year pension from my military service. It's only a few hundred dollars a month, but it's enough to keep us alive for a while until I can get a job. I'm a Coordinator… if I can find someone who won't judge me because of that, there's lots of stuff I could do for a living. Anything from construction to advanced electrical engineering. Then we'd be sitting pretty." Dearka retorted.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm liking how we're talking about "we" and "us"."

"So that means you agree?"

"Mmm… yes, I do." Mir replied.

"Now I just got to get you to say that under different circumstances." Dearka said, surprising himself as well as Miriallia.

"My, but we're bold today." She commented. Dearka coughed.

"Yeah… I don't know what came over me. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You'll get your wish, probably. Just give me some more time. It's only been a few weeks. Ask me again on my birthday. It's only a month and a half from now."

"Deal. Shall we go? I'm feeling like a night on the town to celebrate our newly unburdened existence." Dearka said. Miriallia nodded. They stood up, dragging their backpacks along with them. Much to their mutual surprise, Ysak was still waiting for them at the bottom of the hill. He had a stormier than usual expression on his face. "Yeah… sorry about being late. We were…" Dearka began.

"I know what you were doing. Don't lie to me." Ysak snapped.

"You're touchy today." Miriallia observed. Ysak glowered at her while Chanel and Katie giggled.

"Only because the three of us out shot him consistently all day long. We eventually degenerated into a betting game. If we could put more rounds into a head sized target at one hundred feet than he could, using ten shots, then he had to give us each a kiss. If he got more rounds in than we did, we had to leave him alone for thirty minutes later tonight. The final score was kisses: thirty… time alone: zero minutes." Katie volunteered.

"It shouldn't have been possible. I'm a Coordinator. I have better reflexes, better eyesight and I'm military trained." Ysak complained.

"The military just teaches you to shoot straight. It doesn't teach you how to shoot well." Raine put in, from her seat on the hood of her electric town car.

"Don't talk to me." Ysak retorted.

"He's upset because Raine put a bullet through a hole he already shot in a target from two hundred feet away three times in a row, with one hand tied behind her back." Chanel explained.

"Ysak-y's also upset because he's been sitting here for four hours unable to do more than hold hands with us because Raine is here, when he had a lot more planned for when we got back to your place." Katie added with a wide smile. Ysak turned a brownish red color.

"Sh-shut up!" he hissed. "I wasn't going to do anything of the sort!"

"Ysak-y has us do this one thing where he lies down on the bed and…" Chanel began. Ysak gave an incoherent cry and jumped on her, covering her mouth with both hands.

"Damn you, shut up when I say shut up! That's not information you should say out loud!" he scolded her. Miriallia trod lightly on Dearka's foot.

"Don't you have something to suggest to Ysak?" she asked sweetly.

"Now?" Dearka whined. "He's pissed off now, though."

"He always is, in one way or another." She reminded him. Ysak glared at them both.

"What's she talking about, Dearka?"

"Um… well… you see… I sort of brought up the whole… Coordinator thing." Dearka hedged.

"What Coordinator thing?" Ysak asked.

"The little… possible downside… to being a second or later generation Coordinator in a lasting relationship." Dearka said, wishing that Ysak wouldn't make him go into more detail.

"What's he hinting at?" Katie asked.

"It sounds serious." Chanel decided. Ysak, meanwhile, had gone pale.

"It's none of your business." He told them flatly.

"Actually, if what Dearka told me is true, it's seriously their business." Miriallia contradicted. "You can have this two ways. You can explain it to them, or I can. I won't be as tactful as you would be." She warned him. Ysak glared daggers at Dearka.

"Thanks a bunch." He said sourly.

"I'm… I'm sorry. But it is an important issue. Miriallia is going to talk with Cagalli and Lacus about it too. Its better we deal with this now, rather than have it be a surprise to someone later." Dearka apologized.

"Ysak-y?" Katie asked.

"What do they mean?" Chanel added. Ysak sighed and slowly, painfully explained the same thing Dearka had a few hours ago. At the end of his explanation, both girls had covered their mouths with their hands in consternation and Raine had a sour look on her face as well.

"You mean you might be impotent?" Katie gasped.

"Sterile, not impotent. It's very different." Ysak said stiffly.

"Yeah… one means unable to have children. The other means unable to "perform"." Dearka said informatively.

"Mir was right. This was important." Chanel said quietly.

"I'm sorry. But it was very private." Ysak told them.

"None of us like to think about it. It's too depressing." Dearka offered in support.

"Don't worry, Ysak-y. I still love you, even if you can't have children with me." Katie said abruptly.

"Me too." Chanel added.

"Who says I want to have children with either of you?" Ysak demanded. He glanced at Raine and turned the deepest shade of red yet. "Why are we talking about this with your bigger sister and guardian present?" he hissed. The girls looked at Raine, who smiled at them and nodded.

"Would you prefer it was Uncle Vladimir?" Katie asked.

"Raine's our sister. She'll support us in any decision we make. Especially in matters of love." Chanel continued.

"Of course, she'll still castrate you if our decision turns out to have been wrong because of your actions, but that's life." Katie added sweetly.

"And that's a whole lot better than what Uncle Vladimir would do to you." Chanel said, trumping her sister.

"Why do you two always have to threaten me like this?" Ysak complained. "Don't you trust me?" The girls were instantly contrite.

"We're sorry, Ysak. Please forgive us." They chorused, looking very ashamed of themselves. "We hurt your feelings again, without thinking."

"Ah… er… uhm." Ysak said. He couldn't hold up his façade though. "It's okay. I know it's hard for you two. I know you went through some tough things. I forgive you. Both of you." He pulled them both close, hugging each with one arm and planting a tender kiss on each forehead. "As for my little problem, well, it won't be an issue for a while yet. But I was very complimented when you both said you would love me anyway, no matter the eventual outcome."

Dearka whistled tunelessly and looked away, anywhere but at Ysak displaying public affection. He knew that if he stared, Ysak would only get grouchier. "They're so cute." Miriallia whispered to him. Dearka didn't respond, for fear Ysak would hear him and become wrathful.

"We should probably get going." Raine said. "I caught something about there being visitors at your place on the radio a few hours ago."

"Yeah… let's go."


	15. Athrun's Proposal

"It's scary, seeing Ms. Murrue like this." Cagalli whispered to Lacus as they sat across from her at the table. It was about six o'clock pm, and there was only about thirty minutes to go before they were due to leave for their double dinner date with Athrun and Kira. Murrue looked through them blankly, not really seeing them. Lacus and Cagalli had taken her over to their side of the house in an attempt to liven her up with some private chatting, but the idea had not panned out. Murrue was just as unresponsive with them as she had been when Kira and Athrun were around. At least she had stopped crying.

"She used to be so strong." Lacus whispered back.

"She was no stronger than you or I. She just hid her true feelings better." Cagalli refuted. "Besides… she had her true love taken away forever… twice within a two year period. I don't know what I would do if I lost Athrun… much less losing someone like him again a few months later."

"Me either, with Kira. I think I'd die if he ever was lost." Lacus replied.

"Speaking of Kira… could you get him under control?" Cagalli asked, seeking to change the subject.

"What do you mean?" Lacus asked.

"I mean, stop him from interfering with Athrun and me! It's hard enough to find time alone with Athrun as things are, without Kira always making sure the door is cracked or that he can hear us. It's driving me crazy." Cagalli said, her voice cracking.

"He's just concerned for you. He doesn't want either of you to rush into something you may regret later." Lacus replied.

"My apologies… but FUCK THAT!" Cagalli half shouted. "I'm touched and all, that my little brother is feeling protective of me… but he's not my guardian. It's not his choice about what I do with my boyfriend."

Lacus looked uncomfortable. "I see your point… but…"

"But nothing! How would you like it if I started watching you and Kira make out? Huh? Or always made sure that I was in sight when you were together, so you wouldn't ever really be alone to get the mood right?" Cagalli said angrily.

"I wouldn't like that at all." Lacus admitted.

"Then why is it okay for Kira to do so?" Cagalli asked, calming a bit.

"I don't know. It might stem from his memories of Flay. Most of his problems do. What he went through with that girl… grrr, it makes me wish she wasn't dead, so I could kick her out an airlock!" Lacus said, trembling with feeling. "But anyway, since he felt like he failed to protect Flay, he might have vowed not to do the same in your case. And in his mind, protecting you from doing something he considers stupid is just as important as protecting you from assassins."

"Like his track record is that good in that area either." Cagalli remarked sarcastically. Lacus looked at her indignantly.

"Take that back! Kira tried his best. He always does. Athrun was lying out in the field like a comatose log, while Kira fought off the pain of that horrific bite wound in an attempt to stop Zacharis!" Lacus said with more than a hint of nastiness. Cagalli blinked in surprise.

"I shouldn't have said what I did." Cagalli managed.

"Me, either. What came over me?" Lacus asked, looking scared, this time of herself.

"This whole situation, with our boyfriends… it's started to leak over to us as well." Cagalli replied.

"I'll talk with Kira on the ride over tonight. I can't promise you anything… you know how he is once he makes a promise to himself to do something… but I will bring up your feelings." Lacus told her, glad to try and patch up the situation.

"You can tell him that if he doesn't back off soon, I'm going to chain him to his bed and screw Athrun right there in front of him, on the floor of his room! Maybe once the first step is irrecoverably taken, he'll ease up about it all!" Cagalli said with fire in her eyes. Lacus looked at her with shock in her eyes.

"You… wouldn't really do that, would you?" she asked slowly.

"The hell I wouldn't! I'm at the end of my rope! I swear on my dead father's grave I'll do just that if Kira hasn't eased up by this time next week!" Cagalli said with conviction. "And you can tell him I said that too."

"I hope you don't have to do that… it would irrecoverably damage your relationship with Kira, I believe." Lacus whispered.

"I hope I don't have to do it either. The mere thought makes me sick, really. But right now, Athrun is more important to me than Kira's feelings! I don't know how to explain it to you, but I think you know what I mean when I say I fall more in love with Athrun every day! He was hiding something from me earlier today and I'm pretty sure I know what it was and when he's going to reveal it!" Cagalli replied.

"What's that?" Lacus asked.

"Well, it was small, box shaped and was wrapped in expensive paper. I'll give you three guesses, and a hint. It's meant to be worn on the finger. Think you can figure it out?" Cagalli said, a bit hysterically. Lacus placed a hand over her heart.

"A ring? An engagement ring? He's going to propose? But it's only been about three months!" Lacus said, her head spinning.

"I don't know it's an engagement ring for sure, but I'm about 95 certain. And I'm pretty sure he's going to bend the knee after dinner tonight. As for the time… does it really matter to you how long you spend with Kira? Do you love him any less after one month versus after 3 months? Of course not. I just know that Athrun is the right guy for me. I just do. I have total faith in that and in him." Cagalli babbled out. "Besides… it's just a formal way of publicly confirming what we already have. I mean, we can't get married until we both turn 18 anyway. That's not for one and a half more years at the earliest. We'll be just like you and he used to be… but with real feeling."

"Congratulations, I guess. I'm just overwhelmed. Has Athrun told Kira yet?" Lacus stammered out.

"No…" Cagalli said, drawing the word out for several seconds.

"Don't you think he should know?"

"Well you can tell him on the drive over… but only if he promises… swears on his life… that he won't let on to Athrun that I know about the surprise." Cagalli decided. "And if Kira doesn't like the whole thing, then you can tell him what I said earlier."

There came a sudden knock on the door. Lacus jumped up and ran to get it, glad to be out of the uncomfortable conversation. Her Haro robot pet bounced around excitedly as it always did when there were visitors about. Lacus opened the door to see Miriallia and a slightly queasy looking Dearka standing outside. "Come on in." Lacus invited. Miriallia prodded Dearka along and closed the door behind him.

"Do we really have to do this?" Dearka whined.

"Yes, we do. Hopefully Ysak will get Kira and Athrun in here in a moment and then we can get the whole thing over with…" Miriallia's voice trailed off as she sighted Murrue. "Captain Ramius! When did you get here? I'm so glad to see you…" Miriallia trailed off again. "Captain? Are you okay?"

"She doesn't look very good." Dearka observed.

"She's in a depressed fugue." Cagalli told them.

"Over Mu?" Mir asked. Murrue cried a few silent tears at the sound of her beloved's name. "Stupid question. Of course it's about him. I still can't believe he's gone myself."

"Mr. Waltfeld brought her by, hoping that by meeting us she would snap out of it. As you can see, it didn't work." Lacus explained. "Her heart is broken, and so badly I don't know if it can be fixed. She's wasting herself away in grief. She hasn't spoken a word since she collapsed while on duty a week ago, and has only eaten three or four times in that time period as well."

"That's so sad." Mir said. She went over to Murrue and placed a hand on her shoulder. Murrue didn't even look up. "I know what you're going through, Captain. At least partially I do. Killing yourself isn't the answer. It won't make anyone happy, least of all Mu." Mir whispered. Murrue blinked slightly, but that was all.

"We tried everything. And before us, Kira and Athrun tried everything. And before them, Andrew Waltfeld tried everything. Nothing gets more than a blink or two out of her." Cagalli said gently.

"There has to be something that we can do. Maybe bring her with us to our nightmare counselor?" Mir suggested.

"It's worth a try." Lacus allowed. The door opened and Kira, Athrun, Ysak, Chanel and Katie flowed through it into the room. Kira and Athrun were dressed in casual-formal wear, consisting of nice jeans, belts, dress shoes, and a cerulean blue collared long sleeved shirt for Kira and a crimson red one for Athrun. Athrun had his motorcycle jacket folded over one arm.

"So what is this important issue you want us all here to discuss?" Athrun asked, going over to Cagalli and giving her a quick hug. Kira did the same to Lacus, turning away to give Athrun and Cagalli a bit of privacy.

"I'll get this over with quick so you guys can get on with your evenings." Miriallia said. "Earlier today, Dearka told me about a particular weakness peculiar to Coordinators of second generation and later. I felt this was some information that everyone needed to know about."

"What is it?" Kira asked. Athrun had a sinking feeling in his chest. He was pretty sure he knew what Miriallia was talking around. It was something he'd been meaning to tell Cagalli himself.

"Second generation Coordinators have about a 1 in 5 chance of not being able to have children. This chance gets greater every generation the Coordinator is after the second. It's not that they can't make love…" Miriallia blushed a bit. "… Just that their efforts do not produce children. They are, for all genetic purposes, sterile. In the simplest possible terms that means that Dearka, Athrun, Lacus and Ysak each have a 1 in 5 chance of not being able to have children. I thought everyone should know, for future reference." Miriallia blushed again.

"You're kidding." Cagalli said, her face drained of blood. Kira looked unnerved as well. Athrun and Lacus looked embarrassed and a little afraid.

"I'm afraid she's not. I was going to tell you later tonight, Cagalli." Athrun admitted. "There's actually no way of knowing if the lack of children is from genetic problems or because of just plain old bad luck… not until years have passed. Please, Cagalli… forgive me for not telling you sooner." Athrun said, tears in his eyes as his heart started to plummet like a lead weight. This couldn't have come at a worst possible time. He fingered the ring box in his pant's pocket. _Might as well toss that out, now._ He thought bitterly.

"Oh… Athrun… I don't care if you can't have children… it would hurt me if we couldn't pass on a legacy… but not so much that I'd forsake you because of it." Cagalli mumbled, pulling him close and weeping into his chest. "I can forgive you for anything. This isn't even your fault, so don't worry about it. It's not like we've had much chance yet anyway." She continued, shooting a burning glance at Kira. Kira looked abashed.

"Lacus… I…" he started to say.

"I'm sorry as well, Kira. I should have informed you sooner, too. It's just… I didn't foresee it becoming an issue any time soon… and…" Lacus started to sob.

"Shhh, Lacus. It's okay. I still love you. The ability to have children is not something I have as a requirement. I'm still getting used to just being in love, myself. Besides, there's no guarantee of anything being wrong with you like that. In fact, the odds are you'll be just fine. I'm willing to trust to luck. After all, it brought you to me in the first place." Kira said, wiping away her tears.

"Now I feel terrible for having brought this up." Miriallia said softly, tears forming in her eyes as well.

"No… don't. You were right to get this out in the open. It's better to see how everyone feels so we can work it out, rather than letting it fester like a secret wound that might eventually poison a relationship." Cagalli replied.

"Definitely." Athrun added.

"I agree." Lacus said simply.

"Me too." From Kira

"You always have my support." Dearka said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I guess you had good intentions. Can I leave now?" Ysak asked. Katie and Chanel each gave him an elbow to the gut, one from each side.

"How can you be so insensitive?" Katie declared in exasperation.

"Those were two of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." Chanel added.

"Ugh. I'm sorry." Ysak managed. "You know… you four are going to be late if you don't leave soon." He said to those people going to dinner. Without further ado, Athrun, Kira, Cagalli and Lacus hurried out the door, to their motorcycle and car. "Now… you two were teasing me about something earlier… I think its time to make you pay the price." Ysak said with a broad smile, gently dragging Chanel and Katie back to his room, over their mock squeals of protest.

"He's turning into Athrun." Dearka remarked after the door had shut.

"Maybe so." Miriallia allowed, dropping her ruined backpack in the trash. "Though maybe that's not a bad thing. We could all take a page from Athrun and Cagalli sometimes, I think." She continued, swaying her way over to him. Murrue was still sitting in her chair, staring at nothing. "Come this way." Miriallia ordered, leading Dearka up to her room and locking the door after them.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to…" Dearka began. Miriallia shushed him.

"To simplify what I said downstairs… sometimes a little passion is warranted." She whispered, starting to unbutton his shirt while kissing his skin as it became available.

"Oh god…" Dearka whispered. "This must be heaven."

---------------------------------------------

"I can't believe how nice it was of Alkire to loan you the use of his fancy car." Lacus shouted over the wind roar as Kira sped along at exactly the posted speed limit of 100 kilometers per hour (60mph).

"Shh, I'm trying to concentrate. Driving a car is much more difficult than he made it out to be. You have to keep your foot on the pedal, your hands on the wheel and your eyes constantly moving so that you don't run into other people or obstacles. Added to that is the fact that the other people frequently seem to be trying to do their best to crash into you." Kira replied, intently watching the road ahead of him.

"Where are Athrun and Cagalli?" Lacus asked.

"Beats me. I lost them about five minutes after we started. Since Cagalli was shouting with glee and calling "faster, faster" even though they were already going twenty over the limit… they could already be in jail right now, arrested for speeding." Kira answered, swerving around a slower car.

"Speaking of them… Cagalli asked me to talk to you about something." Lacus said.

"About how I keep interfering with Athrun and her in private moments?" Kira asked. "I've been thinking about that all day long. And I've realized what a total jackass I've been. I mean, Athrun's my best friend. I trusted him to protect Cagalli in the heat of battle. How could I not trust him to protect her in the heat of passion?"

"That's a really mature thing to say." Lacus allowed.

"Besides, Cagalli probably gave you an ultimatum I wouldn't want to hear while I'm driving, to be delivered to me if I didn't cooperate, right?"

"She's very strong willed, and she really loves Athrun." Lacus admitted.

"I figured as much. I'm glad you didn't have to tell me the ultimatum. Was it really bad?" Kira asked.

"You'd probably have fainted." Lacus told him. "And then we would have crashed and probably both died."

"I see. Promise me you'll NEVER tell me what it was or I may not be able to get the vision out of my head and then I might have to do something drastic in reply." Kira requested.

"I promise. There was another thing though. I need you to promise to me on your love for me that you won't let on to Athrun about this though." Lacus replied.

"Umm… okay. I promise on my love for you, Lacus Clyne, that I won't say a word to Athrun about whatever it is you're going to tell me."

"Athrun's going to propose to Cagalli after dinner tonight. She glimpsed the ring box earlier today." Lacus said simply. Kira swerved a bit sharply around a corner, tires squealing.

"That's a hell of a step forward." Kira commented, regaining control.

"Not really. More just a formal affirmation." Lacus replied.

"I suppose you're right. Okay, I should be able to keep that under wraps for a few hours." Kira said. "There's the restaurant up ahead."

"They're probably going to want to consummate tonight." Lacus added. Kira's knuckles whitened as he death gripped the steering wheel. He pulled into a parking space and turned the car off… then gripped the wheel again. "Kira?"

"Can… can I borrow your couch then? If I'm nearby I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from trying to stop them." He whispered.

"Sure you can… though I think I'll probably just have you sleep in my room instead. I can put some cushions on the ground or something. That'll spare you any possible embarrassment in the morning or night. Miriallia sometimes sleepwalks, you see."

"Your room?" Kira half choked.

"Come now, Kira. You've seen me in my sleepy clothes before. And I'm not like Cagalli… I won't do anything scandalous while you're sleeping or waking up." Lacus told him coyly.

"I seem to recall you sitting on my lap to wake me up once. That wasn't exactly ladylike behavior." Kira said with a grin, releasing the steering wheel and unbuckling his seat belt.

"Would you have preferred I strip to my underwear and put your head in my lap? That's what Cagalli suggested I do." Lacus asked.

Kira shivered. "I can't believe she's related to me. Or that she's a princess. Where does she GET thoughts like that?"

"Don't ask me. I'm just her friend. Now, shall we go inside?" Lacus replied. They did so and found that Athrun and Cagalli were already seated. The dinner was quite enjoyable, with both guys acting like the close friends they had always been. None of them were used to spicy Thai food, which caused several rounds of laughter as first one person, then another drank copious amounts of water and complained of being able to see flames on their tongues. Finally, the dinner started winding down and the conversation slackened off. Kira, Lacus and Cagalli shared a secretive look when Athrun excused himself to go to the bathroom.

"He's going to come back with the ring in hand." Cagalli said gleefully.

"Haven't you ruined the surprise though? Doesn't that take a lot of the fun out of it?" Kira asked.

"No." Lacus and Cagalli said together and then laughed. "The anticipation is what makes it worthwhile. Besides, I can still be surprised by the ring itself, what it look likes and all, and how he presents it. You'll understand, after you give it a try. Now shh! Here he comes." Cagalli said. Athrun came back to the table and sat down nonchalantly.

"What's everybody looking at?" he asked, finishing off the last bit of his food. Lacus, Kira and Cagalli traded surprised looks.

"Umm… you didn't forget anything did you?" Cagalli asked nervously.

"Nope. I've forgotten nothing. I'll get the bill." Athrun replied. He seemed oblivious to how queasy Cagalli was looking. Kira stared at Athrun hard before turning his lips upward ever so slightly.

"He's been on to you girls." He breathed in Lacus's ear. "He's stringing Cagalli along. So much for anticipation. Surprise IS everything." He continued, so quietly even Lacus could barely hear him.

"What are you two whispering about?" Cagalli asked, terribly suspicious.

"After dinner plans." Lacus replied instantly and placed her hand on Kira's neck. "I think we should let her stew for a while. Would serve her right." She whispered back to Kira. Athrun paid the bill and everyone got up to leave. Cagalli seemed a bit listless. She kept starting at Athrun's hands, as if expecting that if she wished hard enough, the ring would magically appear. The four friends left the restaurant, which was situated along the banks of one of the impressively clear Swiss rivers. Instead of heading back to his motorcycle though, Athrun paused and took Cagalli's hand.

"You two go on ahead. Cagalli and I have a few things to talk about." He said to Kira and Lacus. They nodded and headed off to their borrowed car. Athrun led Cagalli along the riverbank for a ways, ignoring her protests and inquiries. Finally he reached the place he had scouted out earlier in the day, when everyone else had thought he was working on the bike with Vlad and Alkire. In actuality, they had fixed the bike in less than thirty minutes, and then gone along to help him choose his proposition spot.

The spot was a slight peninsula that extended out into the river for a dozen feet or so. A gazebo with a marble bench sat at the very tip of the peninsula. It was to this structure that Athrun led Cagalli. The stars blazed overhead like a cloud of diamond dust scattered across a black felt blanket. There was a slight breeze… just enough to cause Athrun's shoulder length hair to stir slightly. The air around the gazebo was cool because of the proximity to the river.

"Athrun?" Cagalli asked, hesitant. Athrun decided he had punished her enough for peeking at the ring box earlier in the day. He turned and knelt before her on one knee in a single fluid motion.

"Cagalli Yula Attha… will you marry me?" he asked calmly, producing the gift wrapped ring box from out of a sleeve like a magician. Cagalli started to tremble as she slowly took the box from his hands and… still staring into his wonderfully soulful green eyes the entire time, unwrapped the box. She opened the box and gasped in awe upon seeing the ring. Instead of the standard gold or platinum ring set with a gem, the ring Athrun had bought was made from crystal pure carved amber, inlaid with gold wire in the shape of two hearts that overlapped like two leaves of a plant at the apex of the ring. In the area of the hearts that overlapped was cunningly mounted an emerald of the exact same color as Athrun's eyes.

"The amber reminded me of your eyes, the gold of your hair. The emerald is there to show to all the world just who always has his eyes on you." Athrun explained as he gently lifted the ring from its depression and slipped it onto Cagalli's right ring finger. It was a perfect fit, not that either of them was surprised by that. "Cagalli… will you marry me?" Athrun asked again.

"Yes." Cagalli said in a very tiny voice. "Yes… Yes… YES! I'll marry you, Athrun Zala!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and weeping with joy. "I thought you were never going to ask."

"You shouldn't have tried to peek at the ring earlier. Surprise is the best part of the whole ritual, after all." Athrun reminded her.

"You jerk… you were onto me the entire time?" she whispered.

"Yep. You should have seen your face when I sat down at that table without doing anything. It was priceless." Athrun chuckled.

"You're lucky I love you so much, or I'd kick you right now." She told him, holding him tighter. "Athrun?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You have more planned, right?"

"Of course. The proposal was just the first tiny little bit. I've got a suite rented at this luxurious lodge up in the mountains. That's our next stop."

"Little early for a honeymoon."

"I mainly did it just in case Kira was going to be a bother. He doesn't know about it… no one but you and I do. We'll have two days of uninterrupted time alone, at the very least. Now… enough chit chat. I've been waiting for this night for weeks. We have a date with solitude, love. Let's not delay." Athrun said, physically sweeping her off her feet and carrying her in his arms back to the motorcycle at a lope.


	16. The Truth About Cagalli

Cervantes looked at the gigantic war machines towering up over him. "These are excellent. Perfect! Wonderful!" he crowed, almost dancing with glee. Captain Asmodeus Sark stepped up behind him and saluted sharply.

"They are The Bane, The Merciless and The Fury." He informed his boss, pointing first to the one painted pure white with a black skull like head, then to the truly giant one painted in purple, black and silver and finally to the shortest one, which had splotched crimson and dark green paint. "The Bane is piloted by BCPU 4 Markov Ashino. The Merciless by BCPU 5 Cray Thresher. And the Fury by BCPU 6 Zacharis Frost… after he finishes recuperating." Asmodeus continued.

"What about their specifications?" Cervantes asked, even though he knew them by heart, there was just something about hearing another knowledgeable person speak them out loud.

"The Bane stands twenty meters (66 feet) tall and weighs one hundred and twenty tons. It is powered by a nuclear reactor and is equipped with dual layer Phase Shift armor for protection. It mounts four light antipersonnel machine guns in its head. Three 57mm beam rifles are mounted on each shoulder, and they can all fire at independent targets. It carries a heavy MS gatling cannon on its right arm and a beam deflecting geschmeidig panzer shield on its left arm. It carries an ES06 wide bladed beam sword for close work." Asmodeus began. He then walked over to the next machine.

"The Merciless is thirty meters (100 feet) tall and weighs 175 tons, making it the largest single person vehicle ever created. It is also powered by nuclear reactor and sports revolutionary triple layer Phase Shift armor. It is armored with geschmeidig panzer shoulder guards, much like the Forbidden was. Offensive weaponry includes four heavy MS gatling cannon, mounted two to a shoulder, four radar guided missile 40 racks, mounted two to a leg, a 400mm anti armor shotgun carried in the left arm, a dual 250mm hyper impulse beam cannon in the right arm, six 57mm beam rifles mounted on the chest, a beam claw in each hand and finally a tactical nuclear missile two pack mounted on the back. Its destructive potential is obscene." Asmodeus said proudly. He had always been a proponent of the merits of overwhelming firepower, which the Merciless exemplified.

"Finally we get to the runt of the litter, The Fury. It stands only 17 meters (55 feet) tall, making it shorter than even a Strike Dagger. However, it weighs almost twice as much, at 100 tons. It may be short, but it's jam packed with armor and goodies. It is nuclear powered, of course. It has the experimental new Trans Phase Shift anti-beam armor, which is roughly 80 more effective against beam weapons than normal Phase Shift armor. It is armed with two wide bladed beam sabers, one per hand as well as twenty four armor-schnieder combat knives. The spiky projections mounted two per arm and leg are beam grapples, which can fire up to 300 meters to pierce and grab enemy vehicles. A 57mm beam rifle is also carried in each hand, for ranged combat. The new Afterburner system takes up thirty tons of space on its back. When activated, this system increases the movement speed of the Fury by 250. However, if used for more than ten minutes without allowing for an hour of cool down, it overheats the reactor and the machine detonates. Finally, six wire guided geschmeidig panzer shield pods float around it at all times. It's a variant on the Moebius Zero system, except with defense systems instead of weapon pods. So far, Frost is the only one able to handle it." Asmodeus finished up. "I wish I could pilot one of these." He commented.

"So don't we all?" Cervantes replied. "However, we have three perfectly good pilots already, so I guess we'll let them use them." He walked over to the Fury and touched its foot reverently. "How is Frost anyway?"

"His bullet wounds have mostly healed up, but his arm repair is still causing him problems. It was nearly blown off by a large caliber bullet. It'll be another few weeks yet before he regains full use of it and is ready for deployment." Asmodeus replied.

"What about the Purifier?"

"You mean the MS we built using the Freedom schematics? The first one is finished, the next is about 15 completed. They are working as fast as they can, but they weren't designed to be mass produced by current technology. We don't have a pilot for the Purifier though. BCPU 5 Sihov is brain dead and no longer useful." Asmodeus answered.

"Hmmph." Cervantes grunted noncommittally. "What about my future son in law?"

"As a pilot or just a sit rep?" Asmodeus asked, caught slightly off guard.

"Both."

"As a pilot, he'd be marginal. With the installed AI system I'd say he'd be about as proficient as an advanced trainee, at least until he went through the proper courses."

"Could he fire the weapons and operate it under non combat stress?" Cervantes asked, his mind working at hyper speed.

"Easily." Asmodeus replied, wondering where his boss was going with this.

"Good. Now… the sit rep?" Cervantes asked, sitting down on the Fury's foot.

"Well… as you probably noticed from the transcripts, your daughter and Sai haven't slackened off in their physical relationship. If anything, they've increased their intensity. They go about three times a night, on average. Given the rather aerobic nature of their lovemaking, I'd say Sai's in better shape now than he ever was before, and the same for Vanai."

"Why must you always rub the sex into my face like this?"

"Because I know you're secretly proud sir. I'm your intelligence director, I can tell."

"Hmmph. Continue."

"Sai's been applying his same level of performance to his work at our Hawaiian branch. He won the employee of the month award after three days of work. The kid is sharp as a razor. He's got valuable experience in combat situations and has learned how to improvise successfully, so adapting to the hectic nature of the business has been a snap for him. Already the section he has been put in charge of has increased productivity by… 32. That says to me he's also a natural and charismatic leader. The chief exec of that branch has personally called and informed me that by Sai's contributions alone, our sensor and electronic warfare technology has leaped ahead by three years. Hawaii exec wants him promoted to upper management ASAP." Asmodeus reported.

"He makes me proud. I wish I had a hundred more like him." Cervantes admitted. "He'll be a junior vice-president by the end of today."

"Very good sir. He's also been instrumental in my own operations. He's given detailed exposes on all of his "friends" back in Switzerland, during conversations with Vanai. Pillow talk really is the best way to gather information. Would you believe that both Athrun Zala, son of Patrick Zala and Lacus Clyne, daughter of Seigel Clyne are both living in the same house with Cagalli Yula Attha, princess of Orb?"

"Really? That is interesting."

"Oh, it gets MUCH better sir. Apparently Zala is Yula Attha's lover. From what Sai saw, they're even more into the hot and heavy than Sai and Vanai." Asmodeus replied with a huge grin.

"You're kidding? The Coordinator son of that war mongering arch-demon Patrick Zala is banging the Natural ruler of the oh so sickeningly neutral nation of Orb… the very nation now calling for worldwide peace? That's… I can't even say how good that is for us." Cervantes gaped.

"I felt the same way when I heard it for the first time, sir. I'm not done yet though. Apparently Lacus Clyne has also chosen a lover that she's keeping secret from her faction among the PLANTS. Apparently he is named Kira Yamato… formerly Kira Hibiki, only son of the devil himself, Dr. Hibiki."

"WHAT? Kira Hibiki is STILL ALIVE! The so called ULTIMATE COORDINATOR is ALIVE?" Cervantes screamed in shock and rage.

"Yes, seems so. And here's the scary thing. This Kira Yamato-Hibiki is the kid who piloted first the Strike Gundam, then later the Freedom Gundam. From some people's point of view, he nearly single handedly won the war… after the Coordinators had used GENESIS of course." Asmodeus continued. Cervantes steamed on about that for a while.

"Is that it?" he asked at length.

"No sir. I was saving the best for last." Asmodeus said carefully. "You should sit down sir. This is ground shaking news. Not only is Kira Dr. Hibiki's son… but also Cagalli Yula Attha is actually Cagalli Hibiki… his twin sister, the daughter of Dr. Hibiki. There is apparently pictorial evidence of this."

Cervantes clutched his chest. "Be still my raging heart." He mumbled. "So that means… She's not Nara Attha's legitimate daughter. She's not his heir. She isn't the ruler of Orb, and she doesn't have the actual authority to appoint that Colonel Ledonir Kisaka as her regent. This is… a miracle. A heaven sent miracle."

"I agree sir." Asmodeus said wholeheartedly.

"I don't know which to use. The fact that the acknowledged ruler of Orb, a Natural, is banging a Coordinator, the son of the war mongering Patrick Zala himself no less, while at the same time calling for peace talks… if that got released to the world media along with a few juicy video clips, the peace talks would grind to a halt in horror. On the other hand, if it was revealed and proved to the world that Cagalli Yula Attha is a pretender to the throne of Orb… the country would be thrown into chaos and doubt cast upon the whole agenda of peace talks."

"Use both, sir. I'll use some specialists to get the evidence proving she's illegitimate to be ruler of Orb, which we'll then show the world. While everyone is still reeling from that, we'll show them the video clips of her and Zala fornicating. Everyone in the world will think she's being influenced by the PLANTS into surrendering the world to them. She'll be lucky if she doesn't get lynched by a mob of her own people. At the very least she'll be forever discredited and the peace talks will have to start all over again, with much loss of trust on both sides." Asmodeus planned out.

"Get that evidence and those video clips. I don't care how much it costs or what you have to do. Just get them. ASAP!" Cervantes ordered.

"Yes sir. I must say, this Sai is a godsend. If only he would convert to Blue Cosmos." Asmodeus replied.

"Give it some more time. Vanai will bring him around eventually. I think I know who is going to be groomed to be my new rising star."

"Is he going to marry Vanai then?"

"He will. He might not think that yet, but he will. I'm not letting this goose who lays golden eggs get away. Could you slip an aphrodisiac into his and Vanai's food? I want them screwing like an army of cabinetmakers. If he gets her pregnant, then he'll be ours. He's too responsible to abandon a child." Cervantes asked.

"Consider it done sir. I'll go get started on the evidence gathering. Excuse me, sir!" Asmodeus saluted and headed away at the double quick.

"O happy day!" Cervantes cried out in ecstasy, hugging the foot of the Fury gleefully.

------------------------------------------

"Uhnnn!" Athrun commented, rubbing his eyes as he awoke to a new day. He rolled over in bed and banged into the soft and warm person lying next to him. For a moment Athrun panicked, wondering what was going on, but then the past two weeks came rushing back again. His proposal to Cagalli… her acceptance. The three blissful nights and days at the mountaintop lodge. The congratulatory party that their friends held for them when they got back. Kira, Dearka and Ysak pooling their cash to make a down payment on a single bedroom apartment for Athrun and Cagalli to live in, a few blocks from the apartment complex where everyone else was. Lacus, Miriallia, Chanel and Katie springing to decorate and furnish Athrun and Cagalli's bedroom. And lots of other things. About midway through, Waltfeld and Murrue had left, to go visit Mu's house and his grave, in hopes that those might wake Murrue up. But not before Waltfeld had wished Athrun and Cagalli well and had promised to send them a gift later.

"Atthruun?" Cagalli slurred, nudged awake by the bump.

"Mmm?" he asked, yawning. They had been up late last night. Well… they were up late every night, or nearly so. Now that nobody else was around to be bothered, they had been able to go all out in their affections. Kira had been grouchy about it for a while, but after the first week he seemed to realize protesting was totally pointless… and too late anyway. Besides, they could always lock him out of their apartment when they felt the need, so he was helpless to stop them.

"You were amazing last night." Cagalli murmured.

"Not bad for a 16 year old former virgin, you mean?"

"Well… I haven't exactly got a depth of experience with non 16 year old former virgins, but yes." She replied. "Do we have anything planned for today?"

"Well… since we quit school last week… not really." He answered.

"M'kay." Cagalli said. "I'msleepback" she informed him. He turned over to follow her good idea. "Athrun?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Did you move my picture of me and Kira as babies? The one my dad gave me?"

"No. Is it not where you left it?"

"No… it doesn't matter. It probably just fell on the floor during our fun and games last night. You wicked man. What was the name of the game we were playing?" Cagalli muttered.

"Twister. It's an ancient party game. A family heirloom of Alkire's. He gave it to us for his gift, remember? And it wasn't my idea to play it so that the loser of each game had to remove an article of clothing."

"At least it was a tie."

"Only because I didn't want you to get cold."

"Sure… whatever."

"Hey… speaking of cold, isn't it a bit chilly in here?" Athrun asked.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, it is." Cagalli replied, lifting her head to look around. "That's funny… I don't remember opening the window last night."

"Neither do I. But we plainly did so. No one else could have opened it, after all."

"What time is it?" Cagalli asked. Athrun craned his neck around to look at his alarm clock, which had the alarm turned off.

"Ten forty one am." He replied with a smile. "It feels good to sleep in. I don't know how I managed to wake up at 5:00 am during the war." There came a sudden insistent knocking on their apartment door. Athrun groaned and inched his way out of bed when the knocking continued unabated and in fact grew more urgent. Athrun slipped on a lounging robe and ambled out of the bedroom and into the common/kitchen area. "I'm coming." He grumbled, yawning. The knocking grew frantic. Athrun opened the view shutter in the door. "Dearka! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked irritably.

"Turn on your TV to the news. Right the hell now!" Dearka said, his face pale as snow.

"What?" Athrun asked, shocked more wakeful by the sight of his distraught friend. "What's wrong?"

"It's best you see for yourself. Cagalli too. Turn the fucking TV on dude. Right the fuck now!" Dearka's voice quavered even as he blasphemed. Athrun unlatched the door. Dearka barged right in. "Why are you gawping at me? You have to see this, though you're going to be pissed as HELL, I know." Dearka said, hurrying past Athrun over to the TV. Athrun followed behind him, wondering if Dearka had blown a fuse in his head. Speculation faded when Dearka flipped the channel from a commercial to a news service.

"…For those of you just joining us, this is a live update on the Orb crisis." The anchor was saying. Dearka turned the TV up so that it was blastingly loud. "Incontrovertible evidence was released to this news service along with all others worldwide. This evidence conclusively proves that the ruler of Orb, the young Cagalli Yula Attha, is in fact a pretender to the throne." Athrun's jaw dropped. He heard a scream of surprise from the bedroom. "This photo, along with several DNA tests and other documents, were found outside the studio this morning, along with a note from a concerned world citizen explaining their meaning." The photo on screen was an exact replica of the photo Cagalli's father had given her just before he died.

"Formerly thought to be the daughter of Lord Uzumi Nara Attha, Cagalli has now been proven to be the daughter of the scientist Dr. Ulen Hibiki, deceased. Dr. Hibiki was a major proponent of Coordinator engineering several decades ago, but was killed in the Mendel Colony bio disaster. This development has cast serious doubts as to the sovereignty of Orb and to its current position as leader of the World Peace Organization. The peace talks have ground to an absolute halt, as ambassadors struggle to confirm whether or not Orb is actually a country or not. There is panic and rioting in the streets." The announcer continued calmly. Cagalli had thrown on one of Athrun's large shirts over her nudeness and had rushed out into the common room.

"This cannot be happening!" she said in denial.

"I don't think we knocked the picture over… and I don't think it was us who opened that window last night. We're being deliberately attacked." Athrun replied, his voice full of cold rage.

"That's a pretty low blow…" Dearka started to say. Then the situation got much worse.

"Wait… we have just received an update. Younger viewers are urged to ask for parental permission to keep watching. The following tape is rated "M" for mature audiences only." The announcer said, touching his ear as he received voice confirmation of the update. He swiveled in his chair to watch a TV screen, eyes wide in anticipation and dread. The image that came up on the screen was steady and clear, with no jerkiness or fuzziness like most amateur video tapes have. Two young people, completely nude, were standing on a white plastic mat that had four rows of five colored circles on it… one red, one yellow, one blue and one green. As the tape ran, the young people, one a young man with blackish hair and green eyes, the other a young woman with blond hair and amber eyes, contorted into a bewildering variety of sexual positions and acts. The tape continued for fifteen long minutes before the announcer reappeared. "For those of you just joining us, that tape showed Cagalli Yula Attha, the former ruler of Orb, having sex with Athrun Zala, son of the former PLANT supreme chairman Patrick Zala, the man who tried to destroy all life on Earth a few months ago. There is a strong rumor going around that they recently became engaged."

Athrun heard a bumping noise and saw that Cagalli had slumped to the floor in a dead faint. Dearka was staring at the screen, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. "Who did this? Why do they want to ruin Cagalli's and mine lives?" Athrun asked in a confused voice.

"…We go now, live to the royal palace of Orb. Regent Ledonir Kisaka has appeared at the top of the stairs to the palace. The whole agenda of the peace talks has been called into serious question. We go now, live." The announcer was saying. The scene jumped to a live image outside the royal palace of Orb. Kisaka was indeed standing at the top of the stairs, surrounded by a massive mob of reporters. Outside the palace gates, what looked like thousands of Orb citizens milled about, confusion and anger on their faces. "Regent Kisaka! Regent Kisaka! What do you have to say about the real reason why Orb wanted to have peace talks? Now that it has been revealed that your titular ruler has been engaged secretly to a Coordinator… Patrick Zala's son no less and has consummated that engagement, how can any country ever trust Orb's intentions regarding peace with the PLANTS?" a reporter asked nastily.

"Kisaka doesn't look so good. He looks like he's about to have a stroke or something." Dearka observed.

"Kisaka's not the only one… I can think of at least two other people who feel that way right now." Athrun gasped.

"Who?"

"Me… and Kira." Athrun replied, falling to his knees. Dearka rushed over.

"You're not really having a stroke are you?" he asked in concern. Athrun shook his head numbly. Kisaka's face was a mask of rage. However, Athrun knew that Kisaka wasn't mad at him and Cagalli. They had of course informed him of the engagement and he likely knew well what they were up to in their apartment, but he had done nothing more than wish them well and say he would handle things on the political end once it became necessary.

"No comment."

"The worst part about all this is… neither of these accusations are lies at the most basic level." Athrun said shakily. "They may have some twisted information in them, and have been presented in a harmful manner… but that really was me and Cagalli on that Twister mat. That was last night. And she really isn't Lord Uzumi Nara Attha's actual daughter. But… why? Why is someone out to get Cagalli and I?" Athrun continued weakly.

"I don't think it's personal. Or not fully anyway. I think this is an attack on the peace talks." Dearka said.

"Who would want to shut down the peace talks?" Athrun asked and then chorused the answer with Dearka a second later. "Blue Cosmos." They both said.

"Regent Kisaka! What is Orb's position on cross genotype marriage? Are Coordinator-Natural pairings common in Orb now?" one reporter asked. Another snorted. "Hell, is it even LEGAL?" he asked. "Regent Kisaka, please comment on why your country was giving preferential treatment to the PLANTS? Was it because your ruler was having sex with a Coordinator all this time?"

Dearka snarled and flipped the channel. It was no use, EVERY channel was playing this story, even non-news channels. "…Sex and legitimacy scandal in Orb…" "…world nations shaken to their core…" "…rioting in the streets. People are marching on the royal palace in the thousands…" "…calls for Cagalli Yula Attha to surrender herself to the Orb supreme court…" "…Atlantic Federation severing diplomatic ties to Orb and withdrawing its ambassadors, critical to the peace process…"

"Damn Blue Cosmos just destabilized the entire world with ten minutes of pictures and the equivalent of an XXX-rated video tape." Dearka commented, shaking his head. "Is peace really that fragile?" Dearka considered something new. "You know… since they stole that picture from you… and obviously use a telephoto lens to shoot that video… Blue Cosmos must know where you two live… and probably where the rest of us live."

"We have to get out of here. Out of this country." Athrun decided. "If we stay here, Cagalli and I will be arrested and turned over to Orb for trial. Or maybe they'll just skip the formalities and go straight to the World Court. Everybody is going to be after us, including the people who are outraged at two under aged kids getting engaged and having sex… even though it does happen all the time. Just not on International TV."

"Arrested? You'll be lucky if this place isn't firebombed before tonight. I mean, sure you got the under aged decency people after you… but you're also going to have the people who are rabidly against Coordinator-Natural marriage coming after you. And they're likely to be the more violently inclined type, being as many are Blue Cosmos cast offs or rejectees." Dearka replied.

"And Blue Cosmos might strike directly or indirectly against the rest of you as well. I don't think TEMPEST would be of much help against an angry mob numbering in the hundreds… firing a machine gun into them would just make everything worse." Athrun said, his mind running on autopilot. "Dearka, run back to the apartment complex. Get everyone together and have them start packing… a single carry-able bag each. Just the essentials, no bags of clothes or keepsakes. I'll meet you there with Cagalli and our stuff in a half hour. Go!" Athrun ordered.

Dearka saluted out of habit and ran off as fast as he could. Athrun looked around his apartment with a pained gaze. It had only been his and Cagalli's for a matter of weeks… and yet it already seemed to contain so much of their memories and lives. His mouth twisted bitterly. He would make Blue Cosmos pay for this, if it was the last thing he ever did. He picked Cagalli, who was still in a faint, up off the floor. The feel of her warm body made him think of last night. Athrun swore to give the cameraman a special taste of revenge. He gently carried her back into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. He then took out two black leather suitcase-bags and started to pack.

------------------------------------------------

"This whole thing is pretty fucked up." James commented to Alkire as they sped over to the kid's house. Alkire was driving in his Ferrari and was making the car howl as he coaxed every last iota of speed and handling from it in his haste. They were already going well over two hundred and thirty kph, and still accelerating.

"Blue Cosmos is the only one with the motive and means to do something like this. Concerned world citizen MY ASS!" Alkire spat as he weaved in and out of traffic, ignoring lights and signs and even driving the wrong way on one way streets in an effort to get to his destination sooner. For James it was like being a passenger in a form of combat where your opponents tried to ram you in multi ton vehicles traveling at combined speeds of more than he wanted to contemplate, while being helpless to do anything to save himself.

"Jesus, Alkire… are you trying to get us killed?" James asked, his face white as Alkire raced a train to a train crossing and only barely passed it by eight feet or so.

"I'm trying to make sure Chanel and Katie ARE NOT killed, James. They're at Ysak's room right now. And you can make a sure bet that if Blue Cosmos knew where Athrun and Cagalli lived, they know where everyone else lives too. A direct attack or indirect attack could be going down this very instant. So, please SHUT UP and let me concentrate on getting there soonest." Alkire retorted.

"Yes, sir, Major." James replied, though he didn't salute for fear of being thrown out of the car if he released his hand grips. As it turned out, soonest was about five minutes later, when Alkire pulled in a 360 spinning hand brake stop, tires smoking, leaving a good pound and a half of rubber on the street as he skidded up onto the lawn itself.

"Go!" Alkire shouted, grabbing his assault rifle from its back seat concealed rack. James ran around to the trunk of the car and lifted out his machine gun and web belts with his machine pistols. Both men were already dressed in hurriedly put on flack jackets and urban camouflage clothing. They stormed inside the apartment complex, ready for anything. Their caution was unwarranted however. There were no attackers. Just a mob of confused adolescents trying to make sense of a world turned suddenly hostile.

Kira was sitting on the couch facing the TV, which had been mercifully turned off. He was rocking his head back and forth and chewing his lip as he started vacantly off into space. A fully packed bag sat next to him. Ysak was pacing around the room, gesturing angrily. Chanel and Katie followed him carefully, ignoring the sweeping arcs of his arms as he expounded against Natural extremists in general and Blue Cosmos in particular. Ysak too had a fully packed bag. As did every other teenager there except for Chanel and Katie, who's stuff was at home. Alkire nodded. Raine and Victor were taking care of packing for the team, while Vlad was out doing maintenance on Alkire's passenger jet, in preparation for sudden departure. Alkire had wondered if he would have to help the kids along, but then he reminded himself that most of them had as much or more combat experience than he did. They didn't need to be told what to do in an emergency.

A loud rumbling came from outside. Alkire identified the sound of Athrun's bike by memory, but checked visually just to be safe. A good operative relied on his memory or assumptions for nothing. Athrun and Cagalli were dismounting from Athrun's motorcycle from where it was parked next to Alkire's car. Both were dressed and carrying packed bags. "The kids are all here. Send the cars." Alkire radioed to Raine and Victor.

"We're done at home too. We're on our way in the ATV jeep and my vehicle." Raine replied. "Robert… I'm going to miss our house." She continued a moment later, tears in her voice.

"Yeah, babe, I know. Me too. But we have to go. If the right people do enough digging, which will undoubtedly happen eventually because of this crisis, Blue Cosmos will find out about us. After that point our life spans will be measured in hours. Besides… we can't just abandon the kids. Any of them." Alkire replied.

"Yeah. They're all family as far as I'm concerned. Chanel and Katie are like our children… the others are like favorite nieces and nephews." Raine said.

"It's okay Raine. We'll rebuild. I've got a spacey enough safe house in Hawaii. That's where we're going. We'll be safe there while we figure out what to do. And figure out how to make the sonsabitches pay dearly for this attack." Alkire told her. "Alkire, over and out. See you soon." He had been so emotionally caught up that he hadn't even corrected him when she had called him by his birth name, Robert. It was a name he had discarded for security reasons after forcibly discharging himself from EFSOU. Major Robert Jones was wanted by the Earth Forces Military Courts for mutiny and murder of a general officer. Major Alkire Majesty had no such problem. That was another thing that would rapidly come out with enough digging. All of the pictures they would be leaving behind… a few of them were of Alkire as Robert, with his buddies from EFSOU. Once the press got a hold of that, he'd probably have to come up with a new alias, because the police and the EFSOU sponsors would be on him like shit on a monkey.

Athrun and Cagalli had just entered the room as Alkire turned around. Both looked understandably distraught, though it was easy for Alkire to see the spark of fiery anger that flared within their eyes. These two weren't going to take this thing lying down. Athrun glanced at Alkire, which caused the older man to jump slightly. Athrun's eyes were a really vacant, flat color. All the life and pity and jolliness had been drained out of those eyes. They were the serious eyes of a person who would do what needed to be done to set things right. Alkire had heard the kids talking about the Berserk mode that Athrun and Kira seemed able to enter when they needed to kick things into high gear, but this was the first time he had ever seen it or lent the tales any credence.

Kira stood up suddenly. Alkire noted that he had the same look in his violet eyes as Athrun did in his green ones. "We'll get the people responsible for this." Kira promised Athrun. He then went over to Cagalli and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry Cagalli. I know this horrible situation must have been like a stab in the back."

"How did they know about the picture?" Cagalli whispered. "Nobody but you guys, my friends knew about that picture and what it meant."

"Sai knew." Ysak commented from across the room. "He's also still missing. I find that curious."

"Sai wouldn't tell them something like that." Kira refuted.

"Maybe they tortured it out of him. This is Blue Cosmos we're talking about here." Dearka countered. Lacus and Miriallia went over to Cagalli and gently disengaged her from Kira's arms. They led her over to a corner of the room removed from everyone else and did their best to comfort her. Athrun, Kira, Dearka and Ysak clustered on the other side of the room, talking and gesturing to each other in mixed anger and resolve.

"Uncle Alkire, Uncle James… what are we going to do?" Chanel asked, coming over to the two of her father figures that were there.

"Yeah… what are we going to do?" Katie added.

"We're going to leave. We're going to Hawaii, to my safe house there." Alkire replied, refusing to lie to them.

"Will we be coming back" Katie wanted to know.

"No. Most probably not." Alkire told her. _Well, we might come back on an Op, but not to visit, definitely not._

"Is Ysak coming with us?" Chanel asked.

"Yes. They're all coming with us."

"What did you say?" Athrun asked, coming over to them.

"I said you're coming with us. It's the only way you'll be able to leave the country. The airports will be closed to commercial travel and all the borders will be checking people very carefully. Anybody who sees you will probably turn you in to the police or worse, the press." Alkire repeated.

Athrun's face twisted. "I don't want to drag you into this." Alkire laughed at him. Athrun's face went blank.

"Kid… Athrun… we were "into this" a hell of a lot more than you were. We've been destroying Blue Cosmos facilities for months now. In fact, the first time we met you, we'd just come back from destroying a training center. Besides, you're friends… one of you is getting to be family. For friends and family, this isn't a burden." Alkire said. He clapped Athrun on the back. "Now, I see you got everyone packed and gathered. That's good. Raine and Victor will be here in a few minutes with transport. Then we'll go to the airport, where Vlad is checking out my jet. Fifteen minutes after we get to the airport, we'll be in the air and on our way to safety in Hawaii. The vehicles will be loaded onto a transport plane owned by a friend who owes me a few favors and will be shipped over to us a few days later. I'm not leaving my Ferrari behind. Though we will of course change the plates and paint scheme. Too bad. I was fond of cerulean blue." Alkire said, laying out the plan.

"You're certainly well prepared." Ysak commented.

James belly laughed and shifted his heavy machine gun to his other shoulder so he could pat Ysak on the back. "We're commandos, kid. We do this sort of thing for a living. Of course we're good at it."

Alkire looked out the window. Victor and Raine had just pulled up in the ATV jeep and Raine's town car. The minigun had been removed from the back of the ATV so it could drive around on public roads without attracting too much attention. "Rides are here. Everybody outside, on the double! James, you cover them. I'll take rearguard." Alkire ordered. James nodded and ran outside, falling to one knee with his machine gun at the ready once he hit the lawn. "Ysak, Chanel and Katie, you're with Raine in the town car. Dearka, Miriallia, you get the ATV with Victor. Kira, Lacus, you're in the Ferrari with me. Athrun, Cagalli, take the motorcycle and follow Raine. James will go as gunner on the ATV." Alkire rapped out. People began grabbing bags and running outside in groups. After everyone else was outside Alkire did a quick sweep of the premises and, finding nothing amiss or forgotten, he sprinted outside and jumped into the Ferrari, eschewing the use of the door.

Raine was just pulling out into the street with Athrun following her, making sure to go at the speed limit so he could stay with her. Victor gunned the ATV jeep and quickly passed her, James hanging on for dear life as the jeep jounced and bounced along. Victor wasn't the most careful driver and he was especially hard on the shock absorbers when he was in a hurry. Alkire shifted into reverse and spun his sports car like a top, ending with the car in the street facing the other way from the direction the other vehicles had went.

--------------------------------------------

"Isn't the airport the other direction?" Kira shouted from the passenger seat. Lacus was lying down in the back, gripping the seat as if she was afraid she would fly out.

"Sometimes!" Alkire replied and kicked the Ferrari into first gear, rapidly accelerating to second, then third and eventually up to fourth. He soon reached his normal safe speed for residential streets of one hundred and seventy kilometers per hour. "I usually think my way is faster though." Alkire crowed, jumping the car over a curb on its reinforced tires, a legacy of Vlad's tinkering and racing up a highway off ramp. He entered the four lane highway going the wrong way and was quickly going twice the speed limit. Kira's face drained of all the blood as cars honked and hurtled out of Alkire's way, seemingly missing by scant inches.

"We're all going to die!" Lacus cried.

"This is attracting a lot of attention, you know." Kira warned.

"That's the idea. I'm the best driver of TEMPEST, so I stand the best chance of escaping from the police if they come after me. While all the police are trying to corner me, the madman in the blue Ferrari, our friends will have a clear and safe journey to the airport, without having to worry about the stress of high-speed chases." Alkire responded. Flashing lights appeared on the other side of the road, pacing them. "There's our police escort. Now the fun begins." Alkire said, swerving across the median turf into the correct lanes for his direction of travel. In moments there were five police cars racing desperately to catch up to him. All points bulletins were crowding out the airwaves, asking all cars to clear the highway.

"There's a helicopter above us! It has police markings!" Lacus screamed. There was a sudden rain of shiny metal objects on the road ahead of them.

"Caltrops. A good plan. But this isn't your average Ferrari." Alkire laughed, driving right over the serrated blades, his reinforced tires blasting them out of the way with nary a scratch. Alkire touched a hidden switch on his dashboard. The front middle armrest folded to the side to reveal a console of buttons and switches. "I always feel like James Bond when I see this." Alkire commented dryly. He pressed a button and one of his rear taillights folded back to reveal the tip of a small rocket.

"You can't kill them! They're just doing their job!" Kira protested.

"I'm just doing mine. They're professionals. They understand. Besides, who said anything about killing them?" Alkire retorted.

"You're going to shoot them with a missile!"

"Watch and learn. Before they teach you how to kill, they teach you how to subdue." Alkire said, pressing the button again. The rocket shot out and flew directly at the helicopter. There was no time for evasion. However the rocket didn't blow the helicopter to pieces, instead detonating a few feet from the windshield and spraying it with a very sticky, quick drying tar like substance. Blinded, the helicopter broke off its pursuit.

"That was amazing! I'm sorry." Kira started to say.

"Not done yet!" Alkire replied, pointing at a blockade of three police cars parked across the road ahead, with police officers crouched behind them, pistols raised.

"STOP YOUR CAR! SURRENDER! YOU CAN'T WIN!" a policeman called over a megaphone. Alkire pressed a different button. His headlights retracted back into the car and two more missile tips became visible. Alkire flipped a switch and used one hand to pick up a microphone.

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO!" he blared, using his horn speakers. "GET AWAY! I'M BLASTING THROUGH!" Bullets started sparking off the windshield, deflected by the armored plate glass. "I warned them. Professional concern stops there." Alkire informed Kira and launched his missiles. They streaked into the police cars, which were only about fifty yards away by this time. Both missiles exploded on contact, knocking the police cars hurtling straight up into the air on pillars of fire and smoke. Police officers were sent flying, tumbling to the ground in various painful looking landings. Alkire gunned the car and hit his afterburner injectors, causing the car speed to double within a second. He surfed the car through the flames and smoke caused by the rocket explosions, passing underneath the falling police cars before they hit the ground and detonated in balls of fire and electrical sparks. 'YEAH! That was AWESOME!" Alkire celebrated, speeding on.

Kira looked sick but also relieved. "None of them died. Thanks, Alkire."

"You're a MS pilot but you can't stand killing?" Alkire asked in disbelief.

"I've killed too many people. Killing people just propagates wars. A person is killed, and then their killer is killed in revenge. Then that killer is in turn killed in revenge. It's a never-ending cycle that I forced myself out of. Athrun's done the same thing."

"That's incredible. You're really idealistic, you know?" Alkire said.

"I get that a lot. There was only one person I killed that I ever wanted to kill. That was Rau Le Crueset. He killed people I cared about and had been manipulating both sides into destroying each other with nuclear weapons. He's the one that gave the Earth Alliance the plans for the N-Jammer Cancellers." Kira replied.

"I've heard of Rau Le Crueset. He's pretty infamous among EFSOU operatives. We tried to knock him off a number of times, but he always wiped out the hit teams. I didn't know about that other stuff though. So you fought without killing people?" Alkire asked.

"From just after JOSH-A to Jachin Due, yes. I disabled my enemies by blowing off their MS's heads or arms or weapons, or by cutting off their legs. I'll admit I did kill people at Jachin Due, but that was to stop them from using nukes on the PLANTS. Jachin Due was… a tough battle." Kira told him.

"What Kira means to say is that, though it pained him greatly, Kira broke his oath not to kill in order to save the PLANTS from all experiencing Junius Seven." Lacus added from the back seat. Alkire drove along for a minute or two while he digested this, keeping a careful eye out for the police, who were just regrouping, not defeated.

"I'm not actually against all killing. Sometimes, like with Rau, it is necessary. You could say that I'm just a stickler for due process. If a person is sentenced to death for crimes committed, in a court by a jury of his peers after giving evidence in his defense, then I have no problem with that. I won't pull the trigger, but I'm not going to stand in the way of the bullets either. However, I won't stand for indiscriminate killing in my presence if there is anything at all I can do to prevent it without endangering yet more lives. Not even if it is my friends who are doing the killing." Kira said firmly.

"You're a complex kid, ya know?" Alkire observed. "Most kids your age are worrying about their grades or how to get into the pants of their girlfriends. You're worried about the morality of death in war and the problems with revenge driven mindsets." Kira blushed.

"Well… I never had any problem with school, being a Coordinator. And… well… um…" Kira hesitated.

"He doesn't need to worry about the other thing either. All he has to do is ask." Lacus provided.

"Lacus!" Kira protested. Alkire laughed.

"There's the airport up ahead. The police are probably calling in their elite response unit and the National Guard. We should have enough time to get ready." Alkire said, pulling in to the private access road of the airport and entering a combination on the lock pad. The gate retracted and Alkire drove quickly into a cavernous hanger and up a ramp into a cargo aircraft. Raine's town car, the ATV jeep and Athrun's motorcycle were already inside, along with a grey pick up truck that Kira assumed to be Vladimir's. "Let's go. My jet is two hangers down." Alkire said, carrying Kira and Lacus's bags. He had his assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

When they reached Alkire's jet, which was the modern descendant of the old Gulfstream Lear jets of a few centuries ago, everyone else was already on board and strapped in. Alkire shoved the bags into the cargo compartment and locked the hatch. While Kira and Lacus sat down and belted up, Alkire vaulted into the pilot's chair. Vladimir was in the co-pilot's chair.

"Nice escape. A bit flashy though. It looked like something out of a "B" action movie." Vlad commented.

"Thanks. I think. How's the pre flight?"

"All systems green. I worked her over completely. Missile tubes loaded, ammo belts linked, turret lubricated, fuel tanks topped off, and countermeasures prepped and ready. Traffic control has not, repeat NOT given us permission to leave." Vlad replied.

"Screw 'em. We're leaving. Unless we want to spend the next thirty years in prison for all the illegal stuff we got with us."

"30 years if you're lucky. I'd go straight to the gallows." Vlad shot back with a grim chuckle. "And I don't even know what the Coordinators would want to do to me."

"You can only die once." Alkire observed, strapping his restraining harness together.

"True." Vlad acknowledged with a nod. Alkire warmed up the engines and taxied out onto the runway. He kept his radio off. Traffic control wouldn't be saying anything he wanted to hear. Alkire grinned in concentration. He'd be taking off blind. Not the first time he'd ever done so, or even the tenth, but it was never a fun experience. If he was unlucky, an arriving jet could land on them just as they were taking off. That would be rather inconvenient for all concerned, as both jets would detonate in globes of jet fuel and metal, raining scorched and bloody bodies across acres of land below. "There's the ERT guys." Vlad pointed out, gesturing at the black painted wheeled APC's rushing toward them.

Alkire taxied quickly out onto the runway. Luckily the airport was shut down to prevent Athrun and Cagalli from leaving by commercial jet, so he didn't have to worry about other leaving planes. Jets were still landing though, since it was impossible to escape on an arriving jet. Bullets started deflecting off the armored body of the plane. 'They're getting more serious!" James called from the back. "I see a RPG launcher!"

"Distract them!" Alkire ordered.

"My machine gun is in cargo!" James protested.

"Then use a few pistols!" Alkire sang back, opening the passenger hatch.

"You're going to take off with the door open and James hanging out the door?" Vlad asked, incredulous.

"Yes…"

"Okay… just checking." The sound of pistol fire echoed from the passenger compartment.

"Take that!" James cheered. 'Teach you to point a heavy weapon at ME! Whoa!"

"You okay back there, James?" Vlad called as Alkire started accelerating down the runway.

"Yeah, yeah! One of those ERT bastards just tagged me but good with his rifle. My jacket stopped it, but it hurts like a son of a bitch. I managed to give as good as I got though. That's what's so fun about body armor on enemies. You can shoot them lots of times without feeling guilty of overkill." James called back, rubbing his chest and staggering away from the door.

"Are they still after us?" Alkire asked, about a third of the way down the runway. His speed was rising on schedule and the plane was steady, despite the open door causing drag. The door suddenly closed. "James?"

"James is still on board. The bomb I just dropped out the door is not." Victor answered. "In answer to your question… in 3… 2… 1… now they are no longer following." Victor said, to the accompaniment of a large explosion. Alkire soon lifted the plane off with plenty of runway to spare.

"We're getting lots of radar activity. They're trying to track us." Vlad noted.

"Not any more they aren't." Alkire said, hitting the countermeasures button. He had stolen the ECM package from the latest EFSOU lab in the process of getting his discharge papers. Nothing from the Earth Alliance could find out where they were going now, unless they visually followed him. And the PLANTS wouldn't be doing anything in Eurasian Federation territory, especially with the break down in peace talks.

"We have incoming bogeys." Vlad said calmly. "They aren't in my instrument catalog. They're MS's of an unknown type. Earth Alliance IFF though. Doing a weapon scan… one hyper impulse cannon, one 120mm railgun, one radar guided missile 12 rack, one beam saber."

"Pretty heavy armament for mass produced models." Alkire noted. "How are they defensively?"

"Mediocre. Typical Blue Cosmos influenced weapons. Plenty of weapons, but little in the way of protection. Standard armor, low quality ECM. They're also pretty bulky and slow. Upgrade their armor to medium grade. They can take a few hits, but they can't avoid being hit." Vlad replied.

"How many of them? Fight or flight?"

"Five of them. Definitely flight. Though we can certainly handle dropping some discouragement."

"I'll let you deal with that then. I'll handle the escape." Alkire got on the intercom. "This is your captain speaking. I'd like to welcome you aboard Majesty airlines and thank you for flying with us. There is going to be a little bit of turbulence, due the five incoming mobile suits trying to shoot us down, but don't worry… if I screw up we'll all die so quickly you won't know what happened. Have a nice flight." Alkire signed off. Vlad looked at him.

"You're such a crazy bastard."

"Maybe so… but I'm the crazy bastard who's going to get us out of here alive." Alkire replied, throwing the jet into a loop that turned into a barrel roll that turned into a corkscrew dive. Yellow railgun tracers filled the sky, along with the blue-red beams of the hyper impulse cannons, each powerful enough to destroy a light space warship. Missile contrails made white lines all over the sky, but the jet's ECM was too strong for the missile's guidance system to lock on and so Alkire could really only hit one by flying into it. "How's that deterrence coming?" Alkire asked tightly, the jet completing a stomach churning series of evasive maneuvers that wove them through a crossfire so intense that one of the enemy mobile suits actually shot one of its allies and destroyed it.

Vladimir flipped up the covers on two green buttons. "Deterrent one, away. Deterrent two, away."

"What're the green missiles again?"

"Flash burners. The missile releases a long cloud of highly flammable vapor and then detonates, igniting the cloud, which flashes as bright as the sun for about a half second. Anybody looking at the clouds is blinded for about a minute or so."

"I thought those were the red missiles."

"No, the red missiles are the incendiary high explosives."

"Okay then… what are the blue ones?"

"Do you have no memory at all? The blue missiles are the paint missiles."

"Vladimir… the jet doesn't have ANY blue missiles."

"Actually… I made a few upgrades after the last mission. You should close your eyes." Vlad said, following his own advice. Alkire did as suggested, missing the searing flash that lit up the entire sky like a road flare.

"Paint missiles?" Alkire asked after a five count as he opened his eyes.

"Yes. Missiles filled with blue paint. They have very sophisticated guidance systems and use very powerful radar. They also have very long range. When one locks onto a vehicle with ANY sort of ECM, it gives off roughly the same level of warning as being locked onto by a warship's main guns does. Then, while you struggle to avoid the paint missiles, you get out of place for the real missiles, the red ones in this case, to track you down easy and undetected. Psychological warfare." Vlad replied proudly. "They also make good jokes. "Hah hah, got you!" That sort of thing."

"I think we lost them. The green missiles did it."

"You are thinking of using the blue missiles anyway." Vlad predicted.

"Damn right. Target each of the four remaining with a blue missile. This'll put the fear of god into them." Alkire said wickedly. Vladimir grinned and did as directed.

"All right… I'm going to punch the afterburner on the count of 3. On 1, you fire the missiles. Got it?"

"Yes. 3… 2… 1…" Vladimir fired the missiles. Alkire hit the afterburner an instant later, tripling the jet's speed and leaving the enemy far behind, rubbing bright spots out of their eyes and panicking as they flew in every direction, trying to break the target lock of an apparent Agamemnon class warship that had them in its sights.


	17. Alkire's House

"How was work today, Sai love?" Vanai asked as he walked in the door. She was wearing panties and nothing else as she lounged casually on the leather couch in the main room of the estate. Sai blinked, like he usually did whenever he found her doing something he thought a bit much, but then he reflected that since it was a private island that you didn't have a prayer of getting to without at least warning the inhabitants, or in this case inhabitant, she would probably have time to get dressed in time for guests. And he had seen her in a lot less before.

"It was great, Vanai, my love. Your father seems to value my work highly. I'm really enjoying my job. I feel like I'm really making a lasting difference. Leaving a legacy, you might say." Sai replied, taking off his sports jacket and tie and loosening the collar of his shirt. "Your dad is a visionary."

"I know. I'm so glad you and daddy get along so well." Vanai told him as he sat down next to her. She wriggled to put her head in his lap. "Sai love, there's something I just found out that you should know."

"What's that?"

"You know how you were talking about how you felt you were making a difference and leaving a legacy…" Vanai said. Sai nodded. His work at Cosmos Weapons Manufacturer's was intense. Bleeding edge technology. Everyone there seemed to think he was some sort of whiz kid, just because he had always held himself to really high standards his entire life. Just because he had judged himself as doing badly if he didn't perform as well as a Coordinator at all times. "Well… it's not only at work that you're leaving a legacy." Vanai continued.

"Huh?" Sai asked.

She pulled his head down closer to her. "I'm going to have a baby." She whispered. Sai coughed and nearly fell over, even though he was sitting down.

"What?" he gasped.

"I'm going to have a baby. Yours. I've been pregnant for about two weeks now, I found out this morning. It probably happened during that night when you managed to go ten times in four hours. I'm still impressed." Vanai explained.

"Baby? Pregnant? Mine?" Sai stuttered.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Vanai gushed.

"Your dad is going to have me skinned alive. I knew we should have used protection." Sai whispered, tears in his eyes.

"No, no, no. You don't understand. You talked with my dad today, right?" Vanai asked.

"Yes. We talked for several hours right before I left to come home. We were discussing the new Interference System I programmed. It cuts down on enemy sensor range by 78."

"I told my daddy as soon as I found out. He's known all day. If he were angry with you, you'd already be aware of it. You know how bad he is at concealing his emotions." Vanai informed him. Sai wanted to swoon. Cervantes wasn't going to come after him. The future seemed shining bright again. "Daddy is ecstatic. I mean, he insisted we get married at once, but I told him that wouldn't be a problem. Is it?"

"No, never. I'll go out and get you a ring tonight." Sai replied.

"You don't need to get me a ring. I have so many rings I could never wear them all. You can express your love for me in another manner." Vanai said, pulling him down on top of her.

"Umm… should we…" Sai asked as she took off his shirt.

"It won't hurt the baby. I did some research online. Sex should stop at about six months or so… but even that is optional and only really recommended if you are in poor health. I can only get pregnant once every nine months, no matter what we do. So you get in there and show your child what a man his or her father really is." Vanai ordered him.

Several hours later, when Sai had regained his ability to talk more than two syllables at a time, he asked Vanai to marry him. She accepted without even pausing an instant. Vanai soon drifted off into her pleased sleep, which was her custom after a few goes. She'd be up again in a couple hours, ready for more, if he was. Sai didn't understand how she could manage to keep going at that sort of pace. She never seemed to get enough. Maybe it was just a girl thing. Sai seemed to remember Flay being the same way. Of course, he barely remembered Flay any more, except when he was angry. The same for Kira. Everyone else of his friends too. It wasn't that he didn't like them… it was just that he was moving on. To a new life, without them. He figured they probably wouldn't understand very well. That was why he had never contacted them. Best to make a clean break.

For once, Sai wasn't worn out by lovemaking, so he wandered into the common room and switched on the TV. The news channel, which he hadn't seen since yesterday, had its critical news update icon displayed. Sai perked up. "…unrest in Orb today, in wake of the shocking morning discoveries concerning the heritage of Cagalli Yula Attha, former ruler of Orb. The sixteen year old girl, long thought to be the daughter of Lord Uzumi Yula Attha, was conclusively proved this morning to be from a different family entirely. Genetic tests have upheld extreme scrutiny all day long. She is actually the daughter of Dr. Ulen Hibiki, the man who had a great hand in making Coordinators what they are today. This afternoon, Cagalli Yula Attha was convicted in absentia of international fraud and impersonation and was officially removed from office. The man who was in charge of her government in her absence, Colonel Ledonir Kisaka of the Orb Armed Forces has been thrown into jail as an accomplice pending investigation."

Sai was floored. "How the hell did they figure that out?" he wondered out loud. "The only ones that knew were those of us who had seen that picture she had." A sudden thought came to him. He was hesitant at first, but he had to know. He had nothing personal against Cagalli, unlike her boyfriend Athrun, who had killed Tolle, one of Sai's friends, during the war. He picked up a phone and called Vanai's father.

"Cervantes speaking." Cervantes said sleepily. "Who is this?"

"This is Sai Argyle, sir!" Sai replied.

"Sai! What're you calling for?"

"Well, I proposed to your daughter this evening. She accepted. We're going to get married."

"Excellent my boy, excellent. She called and told me about the baby earlier, but made me promise not to let on. You're a welcome addition to our family." Cervantes said, actually meaning it. Sai was a certifiable genius. By his efforts alone, Cosmos Weapons Manufacturers had increased this quarter's profits by 12.

"Thank you sir. But the actual reason why I called is the news, sir." There was a long pause and then Cervantes sighed.

"A bad bit of business. Very bad. You have my deepest apologies. I know she was an acquaintance of yours. Someone recognized her and followed them home and broke in when they were gone. The culprit also included some independent blood tests he stole from somewhere. He then shot himself in the head with a shotgun. By the time people figured out what happened… the cat was out of the bag, so to speak."

"Thank you for being so frank, sir. I just had to know."

"Your guilty feelings do you credit, my boy. But you needn't have them. The fault is not yours. However, you should continue watching the news. It gets worse."

"Okay." Sai said, going back to where he could see the TV. The news rambled on for a few more minutes.

"Viewers below the age of consent are advised to leave the room. The following footage may be inappropriate for children under age seventeen." The news disclaimer suddenly said. A minute later, they replayed the video of Cagalli and Athrun in a variety of interesting but VERY compromising positions on the Twister mat. Sai let a whistle escape him.

"Yes, you see what I meant. I almost expected a porn studio to step forward and try to buy the rights to that little display. One would think they would make sure they were in a private place before undergoing that sort of activity. Jokes aside though, the world's confidence has been shaken in Orb. The peace talks have broken down. Both sides are suspicious of the other." Cervantes commented.

"I just wish it could have been only Athrun that went down." Sai said, surprising himself with his own hatred of the guy. "Cagalli was a Natural at least." _Am I really thinking that? I guess most of the bad things that have ever happened to me have come about as a result of actions taken by Coordinators. Also every bad thing that has befallen my friends. Tolle was killed, Mir heartbroken, Flay seduced, Kuzzy… well he was just a coward, but Heliopolis was destroyed, my family ruined, my life warped… all because of Coordinators._

"Yes. But it was her fault. He wasn't exactly raping her. She was a consenting member of the relationship. If a person sleeps with a Coordinator, they risk acquiring their taint." Cervantes said viciously, sounding out his son in law.

"You know what…?" Sai said slowly.

"What?"

"You're right. You really are. Blue Cosmos really has something. I just realized it. It's all so clear now." Sai half whispered, awed at the revelation. "The cause of all my problems… all the world's problems… really can be traced back to Coordinators. If they didn't exist, there would be no problems. My life wouldn't have been trashed, my friends would still be alive, and my family would still be viable. Everything. Coordinators. Damn them. All of them."

"Would you like revenge?"

"Yes. I want to make them pay for destroying my life. Don't get me wrong sir, I love your daughter and wouldn't have wished to have not met her… but still… they ruined my life. My life was good. I was HAPPY." Sai decided.

"What would you say… if I told you I could help you take your revenge?" Cervantes asked, taking the final step.

"I'd ask what you want in return sir. Then I'd accept. Cause I'd do anything, anything at all, to get some payback." Sai replied.

"Even join Blue Cosmos?"

"Instantly."

"Even point a gun at your own former friends and shoot them?"

"Yes."

"Even the Naturals? Cagalli and Miriallia have become tainted by their relationships. They cannot be allowed to further the problem by bearing Half breeds."

"I would try to cure them of the taint first, but if necessary, yes."

"My son… welcome to Blue Cosmos. You'll go far, I perceive." Cervantes said, smiling hugely.

"Thank you sir. I hear your daughter waking up. I'm going to go celebrate." Sai said, feeling as though he could lift a mobile suit using his bare hands.

"You have my blessings my boy. I'll talk more with you tomorrow. We'll discuss your new position in the hierarchy. I need an heir, you see." Cervantes said leadingly before hanging up. _Victory is within our grasp. With this latest recruit we'll have a direct conduit into the hearts of our most bitter enemies. I'll have Hibiki's son on the rack before me yet. I'll make the son pay for the debts of the father. It's only fitting that way._

"For the preservation of our blue and pure world." Sai let the mantra roll off his tongue. "That needs to be updated. The preservation has already been lost. We need to restore the world, not preserve it. For the restoration of our blue and pure world… yes that's much better." Sai decided, resolved to bring up that little idea with Cervantes tomorrow. Then, his body stirring again, he went to go give the good news to Vanai.

­--------------------------------------------------------

"This place is a ruin." Ysak commented, looking at Alkire's isolated safe house. The airport van had dropped all of them off with their bags at the end of the lonely peninsula about five minutes ago. They had then walked down the short incline, through a strand of palm trees to the house itself. There wasn't another house for ten miles, or any sign of civilization barring the gravel road. Everyone had been tired, irritable and angry, because of the whole situation. The fourteen hour flight from Switzerland didn't help matters any.

Added to all of that, Alkire's so called safe house wasn't much of a house. The place looked like it had been abandoned before the war, used as a location for several drunken parties, bombed by the military and then trampled by a horde of crazed cattle. Vines grew all over the walls, parts of the roof had collapsed in and the whole house leaned awkwardly to the left by about fifteen degrees. "Explain to me how you can afford a custom jet and Ferrari, but can't pay someone to maintain your houses, however many of them there are." Ysak demanded. "We can't stay here. It'd be no better than lying down on the ground in this strand of trees. And I don't see what's so "safe" about this place." Ysak continued venting. Alkire just smiled at him.

"I told you so." He said to Victor, who scowled.

"What can I say; I had high hopes for the boy. Guess he needs to go back to secret agent school." Victor replied.

"What are you talking about?" Ysak asked, trying to remain calm.

"This place is a dump, as you've pointed out. However, it isn't the house we're actually staying at." Alkire responded, slowly walking over to the side of the house. He ran his hands softly along the wall. It wasn't until Ysak detected a faint clicking noise when Alkire's hands stopped moving that he realized that the whole house was actually camouflage for the actual safe house. "Sorry, it's been about two years since I was last here. I almost didn't remember where the access panel was." Alkire informed everyone. He placed his hand on a part of the wall that looked completely identical to the rest of the wall. The only hints that it wasn't were the small clicking noise, barely detectable even to a Coordinator, and the slight grimace on Alkire's face. He held up his palm, which had a very tiny spot of blood on it.

"DNA test." Vlad noted.

"The securest form of lock out there. The testing needle is camouflaged as a slight splinter in the wood. Even if someone else ran their hand along the wood in the same place I did, they'd only catch their hand if they pressed down hard. And even then, they'd only think of it as a splinter poke. The safe house won't open unless it gets my DNA from the needle scan." Alkire lectured. The ground about ten feet away suddenly levered up into the air and slid to the side. The plug of ground was ten feet square and a good two feet thick. A metal spiral staircase led down into the ground. "Everybody inside, on the double. I don't like holding the door open longer than need be."

Everyone quickly hauled his or her bags and body down the metal staircase. The people in front were still going down when the door closed overhead, momentarily blotting out all the light before electric illumination strips came on. The staircase descended a good fifty feet before the stairs ended at a metal door of solid construction. Alkire pushed his way to the front and tapped in a code on the metal keypad. "Somebody's a little paranoid." Dearka commented sarcastically.

"In our profession, being called paranoid is a compliment, not an insult." Vladimir said. "It shows professional concern for your wellbeing, and in this case, the well being of those you care about. I feel much safer when Alkire is paranoid."

"Besides… lest you forget, there really are people out to get us." Alkire added. He finished with the key code and then submitted to an ocular scan and another DNA test. "People who won't hesitate to kill us should they find us." The door finally slid to the side with a loud hydraulic hiss. "Welcome to my little bungalow, everyone. You could say that this is my "real" home." Alkire said warmly, beckoning everyone inside. The room looked to be a common room type place. The ceiling was ten feet tall or so, and the room formed a square forty feet on a side. There were two doors in each wall they could see, but only one door, the one they were walking out of, in the final wall. The carpet was a pristine white color and looked freshly cleaned. Several couches of green, brown and gold fabric were scattered about the room, as were several glass tables, lots of wooden chairs and a sound system.

"The red doors in the left hand wall lead to the kitchen and supply storage area, respectively. The blue doors in the right hand wall lead to the garage/submarine pen and armory, respectively. Finally, the green doors in the wall across from us lead to the master bedroom and the guest bedrooms. I'm afraid that there are only five guest bedrooms. I never expected to have so many guests here. Luckily the three couches in this room fold out into beds, there's a cot in the garage and plenty of floor space. The general supply area has sleeping bags and there are plenty of pillows around. The Master bedroom is for Raine and me. Everyone else… first come… first serve." Alkire explained the layout of the bunker-house.

"You really are rich, aren't you?" Lacus exclaimed.

"I used to be, yes." Alkire replied, with a somewhat bitter smile. "Upkeep on this and all my other safe houses, equipment costs, insurance, medical bills, bribes, training costs… it all adds up to a sizable amount. Then of course there is the cost of living… food, water, paying for high school costs for two girls. My fortune isn't nearly as big as it used to be." Alkire continued. What he didn't add was that though his costs were considerable, he could easily continue with his current level of expenditure for the conceivable future without actually losing any money. His monthly banked interest recoup was more than enough to off set his monthly expenses. Buying all the properties, vehicles and other things in the first place had actually reduced his fortune, but it would be back up to its former level in… twenty-three years and four months, at the current rate of accumulation.

Kira and Athrun raced for the door to the guest bedroom wing, getting through the door side by side. Dearka and Ysak weren't far behind them, with Chanel and Katie belatedly bringing up the rear. Alkire smiled when the door to the guest hallway closed again, leaving only adults in the room. "You crafty bastard." James said. "With three couples each taking up a single room, that leaves one room for the girls and one for Ysak. The rest of us can sleep either on the couch-beds or in the garage. You made it sound like we were going to have people sleeping all over the floor. The couples were all giving each other real nervous glances for a while."

"Speaking of couples… what's with putting me and you in the same bed?" Raine asked. "Last time I checked, I wasn't your girl."

"Err… well, you see… umm." Alkire said nervously. "I'll sleep on the recliner chair in the master bedroom then." He was well aware that Raine wasn't his girl. She was no ones girl. In fact, most of the time, he wasn't even really aware of her being feminine in origin. It was part of the trade off of being a hard assed commando sniper. She lost a lot of her feminine appeal among her coworkers, unless they really thought about it.

"I didn't say I minded." Raine cut him off with a saucy smile. "I think it may be time for the girls to have a real father, not just four uncles and an older sister." Alkire's jaw nearly hit the floor, as did those of Victor and James. Vlad just chuckled morosely.

"Erg." Alkire commented, speechless.

"It's this whole mess from earlier today that got me thinking about it. Given what's happened, another war seems all too likely. And the nuclear cat is already out of the bag. GENESIS may have been destroyed, but it wouldn't take very long for the PLANTS to churn out some nuke tipped missiles. With both sides so armed, we're looking at potential Armageddon here. Such a fearful climate for teenagers to be growing up in. They need a familial bond to cling to. Their feelings for Ysak are a step in the right direction, bless him, but they also need a father and a mother." Raine extrapolated.

"Why Alkire?" Victor asked, a little strained. He had attempted to ask her out several times, only to be rebuffed gently each time.

"He's their favorite. And to tell the full, unabashed truth… he's mine too. Sorry James… Victor… Vlad." Raine said softly.

"No problem." James said, looking a hair relieved. "Fatherhood is too big a switch for me. I'm not ready yet."

"It doesn't make me happy… but for the girls… I can accept it." Victor replied slowly.

"Doesn't bother me any. I'm not exactly a father figure or a good role model. And the arms… well, I just wish you both well." Vlad said last.

"Um… wow. Uh… jeez." Alkire said. "That's one hell of a thing to spring on a guy."

"You don't want to?" Raine asked, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, I do. I'm just a little flat footed here. You've snuck up on me and have got your knifepoint at my kidneys, so to speak. Ah… hell, yes. Come, Mrs. Majesty. Let's get ourselves settled." Alkire said, leading Raine into the master bedroom.

"Where is all this romance coming from? And why can't I get any?" Victor whined when the three men were alone. "I mean, since the end of the war, I've met three teen-aged couples, one of whom is already engaged and the other two of which soon will be engaged. Then our little liebchens, Chanel and Katie, have found themselves a good man to love. Now Raine and Alkire are going to get married. It's all getting so complex."

"Post-war trauma syndrome." Vlad said shortly. "After coming back from a war, emotions run high. People start celebrating not having to worry any more… not having to be concerned about the possibility of horrible death every moment of the day. All those positive emotions you sealed up inside yourself during the war to avoid distractions that could get you or your friends killed come tumbling out all at once. It's a rush, like the headiest of drugs. Teen parenthood rates will skyrocket, as will the number of babies being born in the next year." Vlad explained in a wise voice. He smiled darkly. "As for why you can't find love… have you ever considered it might be because you're just plain… ugly?" Vlad laughed.

"Don't make me kill you." Victor threatened, clenching his fists for a moment. James was laughing uproariously. "Oh, hah hah, Mr. Ramsgoth. I don't notice any girlfriends for you either!" Victor sneered. James stopped laughing for a moment, considering that.

"I know why though. I also know why for you and Vlad." He replied.

"Why?" Victor asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Women look for maturity and sensitivity. I'm neither. You're too prim and proper and traditional for the current class of young women. And Vlad… Vlad's too gloomy." James answered. "Vlad also doesn't seek female company out."

"I'm older than you two. I've already experienced the rush of youth." Vlad said. "Besides… what sort of intimate encounter would last past the unveiling of my arms? They aren't exactly the most visually pleasing things to have wrapped around you. That would go triple while making love, I would bet."

"It's still mostly that you're gloomy. You could get covers for your arms." James protested.

"Bah. It's a closed book as far as I care. I'm going to go get set up in the garage."

"I guess that means you and I get to share the common room." James said to Victor. Victor sighed and nodded.

"I get the bigger couch." He said, tossing his bag onto it and slowly starting to unpack.

----------------------------------------

Kira paced around the small guest room he was sharing with Lacus. The room was about the size of his quarters aboard the Archangel, which translated into about sixteen feet long, twelve feet wide and eight feet tall. Kira was agitated. He kept replaying the news bulletins over and over in his head. His heart ached in sympathy for Cagalli. She had been deposed from her own country, branded an international criminal and been publicly humiliated the world over, all within a few hours. Kira reflected that the little picture of him and Cagalli as babies had never seemed to cause anything but pain and trouble for her. First she had been confused because she had had romantic feelings for him that were inappropriate for siblings. But Athrun had been there to help her with that. Now, all because of that little picture and a few blood tests… she had gone from the top of the world to the very bottom.

Worse still were the pictures of her and Athrun making love, projected all over the world and even out to the PLANTS. Kira couldn't imagine a more personal and private humiliation than to have such intimate moments ostracized and carefully evaluated by an entire world. He'd have died of embarrassment. Kira glanced at his current object of irritation, reminded of it by the train of his thoughts, before continuing to pace. Beyond even the humiliation though, having Orb's motives for proposing peace conferences called into question just because Cagalli was engaged to Athrun, and because they loved each other in a physical manner… that was the real killing blow. Cagalli hadn't said more than a few words the entire flight, and then only to Athrun. They had heard Kisaka had been thrown into jail as an accomplice, which hadn't helped matters any.

"Would you stop pacing? You're making me nervous." Lacus requested, sitting at the desk. Kira stopped and once again glared at the object that was really making him irritated. Their room had minimal furnishings… a desk and chair shoved into one corner, a single dresser with six drawers, a small closet, a small table with two armchairs, a small refrigerator and microwave… and Kira's problem… a single bed. A single twin sized bed. It looked barely big enough for Kira himself.

"This is going to be a problem." Kira stated, staring at the bed.

"Why?"

"Why? Because it's a tiny bed, that's why! And there are two of us. We can't both sleep in the bed." Kira explained.

"Why not?" Lacus asked.

"Why… Why not?" Kira sputtered.

"Yes. Why can't we both just sleep in the bed?" Lacus asked more clearly, looking at him with a smile. Kira blushed deeply.

"Be-because… it's obvious why we both can't sleep in the bed." He hedged.

"It's big enough for two. If we snuggle close." Lacus replied. Kira was forced to look away and began pacing again.

"We can't sleep in the same bed together, Lacus… it… it wouldn't… be… right." Kira said, sounding a bit lame, even to him.

"Are you saying we can't both sleep in the bed… because you don't want to sleep in the same bed I'm in?" Lacus asked.

"Yes… NO… yes… ur… damn." Kira oscillated. He looked at Lacus helplessly, noting that she looked like she was going to start crying.

"It's okay… Kira." Lacus said, a hitch in her voice. "I can understand if you… aren't… don't…" she trailed off and started crying. Kira really hated himself right then. _Smooth move, prude. Everyone is emotionally unstable because of everything that's happened today and you have to go and be a total moron to Lacus. Is sleeping together really so hard for you? It's not like you'd be nude or anything. Nothing implied. It's just two close friends, sharing what little available space there is. Right… sure… I believe that. No… I don't. Help me, someone! Aw, hell. Lacus has always been there for me. How can I deny her this one little step? Though it's not all that little of a step. It's literally a step that can never be untaken. Like killing someone. Why can't I just decide? No one would think less of me if I slept with Lacus. Hell, likely everyone would think more of me. Why can't I do it? I can't stand her crying like this. It's breaking my heart._

Kira stepped over to Lacus and lifted her out of the chair. She really didn't weigh anything much at all. She was still crying, in mixed anger at Kira, shame that he didn't consider her beautiful enough to sleep with, and anger at herself for thinking so little of him. _How can I expect him to be calm about this? The last girl in his bed was trying to manipulate him into killing Coordinators for revenge. Am I really so petty as to believe he will just drop all his past, forget about it, just because I'm here right now? He doesn't ask me to forget about my father or how I used to feel about Athrun. How is it right of me to expect him to forget Flay? But I can't help it. I want him to forget about everyone else but me. I want him to hold me close. I… I want him… to… to… do what I saw Athrun and Cagalli doing on that video tape. With me._ Lacus admitted to herself, surprised at how good it felt to have gotten that out in the open with herself._ That must make me a bad person. Though how can it? Athrun and Cagalli are wonderful people… and they were doing those things. I'm so confused._ Lacus belatedly realized that Kira had laid her on the bed and had then walked over to the door of their room.

"What are you… doing?" She asked, a sob breaking up her sentence.

"Locking the door so we don't get any unexpected visitors." He replied, heading back towards her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want any eyes on me other than yours. Not for the next few hours." Kira said, standing at the side of the bed and looking down at her.

"Kira?" she asked him, daring to hope.

"I was being stupid. Please forgive me, Lacus. I can't go any further until you do." Kira said.

"Of course I forgive you. I always forgive you. For anything. Your failings are not your own." Lacus replied.

"I wish I could believe that. Thanks though, Lacus." Kira whispered. He started to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked into stillness.

"Something I probably should have done a while ago, but was too caught up in my own problems to do so."

"You… don't…" Lacus began, unwilling to guilt him into anything.

"I do, actually. I really do. Sorry for the tardiness." Kira shushed her. He cast his shirt onto the floor. "Move over a bit, would you? I'd hate to have one of us fall off the bed in the middle of something important."

"Oh…" Lacus mouthed, her eyes wide. This had to be a dream. There was no way that Kira was saying the thing she thought he was saying.

"Don't "Oh…" me. You want this, I'm pretty sure. I'm still not totally sure of it, myself, but then, I get the feeling people rarely are. I'm doing this for two reasons. One is to pay you back for being there for me all those times, for taking the time out of your life to heal mine." Kira said, shucking out of his belt. He slid onto the bed and lifted Lacus into the air with a slight grunt. He wormed his way directly under her and then lowered her, giggling, back onto him. He kissed her as he started to undo the complicated fastenings of her dress. When they broke the kiss, Lacus started to undo his pants.

"What's… the other reason?" She asked him breathlessly, her hands roaming freely.

"I really, truly, totally love you." He answered, slipping the dress gently over her head and then going to work on her undergarments. Anybody listening outside the door would have soon heard a series of small shrieks, groans and finally laughter.


	18. Recuperation

"Reminds me of my barracks room back at school." Dearka said as he shoved clothes haphazardly into his side of the dresser.

"You had girls sprawled on your bed at school too?" Miriallia asked from where she luxuriated in the feeling of being able to lie down on a soft surface. Dearka decided not to answer that question, for fear of incriminating himself. He finished unpacking and then just flopped down flat on the ground.

"The room is almost exactly the same size as the barracks room I shared with Ysak. Just because we were the son's of PLANT supreme council members didn't give us any special accommodations. Course, that room had windows and two beds, but that's only a slight difference." Dearka continued.

"Speaking of beds…" Mir said slowly.

"I'll pick up a sleeping bag and pillow later. I'll get the floor, you get the bed." Dearka replied instantly.

"Isn't the floor uncomfortable though?"

"Nothing could be worse than that cot I was lying on when I was a POW on the Archangel. I still shudder when I remember how I was starting to get used to waking up to seeing bars around me." Dearka mused.

"Sorry."

"What for? You didn't throw me in prison. Your captain did. At the time, it was the right decision. However, it would have been more correct for them to have taken me off at JOSH-A."

"But then you and I would never have had the lives we've had." Mir replied.

"Yeah… I'd likely be dead, by CYCLOPS system. Remind me to thank Captain Ramius for keeping me in that cell for those weeks." Dearka said but then grimaced when he remembered how the captain was of late.

"I will, assuming she ever becomes lucid again." Mir promised. "You sure you don't want to sleep on the bed?"

"You'd be comfortable with that?"

"Long as we both wear clothes of some sort… yes."

"Damn, and here I was hoping to start sleeping nude on a regular basis." Dearka joked.

"Maybe you should sleep on the floor then, if you're going to be like that."

"No, no, no. I'll be good. No questing hands in the night, no "accidental" rolling over onto you, no funny business." Dearka promised with a sigh. "Though that largely removes the purpose of it all."

"Do you ever think with your brain versus your dick?" Mir joked back.

"Why should I? It's steered me right so far." Dearka shot back. Mir couldn't think of a good retort for that, so she just laughed. In truth, she wasn't worried about Dearka breaking any rules. He was the perfect knight, as far as she could tell. Not like Kira, who was so naïve and gentle that it wasn't an issue. He didn't deserve to be called a knight… it came naturally to him, while Dearka had to constantly suppress his instincts. Half the idea was the battle between what you swore to do and what you really wanted to do.

"So, what is your take on this whole situation?" Miriallia asked after her chuckle.

"With Cagalli and Athrun?"

"What else?"

"My heart goes out to them. Neither of them deserved anything like this, after doing so much between them to end the war. If it wasn't for Athrun and Cagalli, all life on Earth would be dead right now… likely all human life everywhere would be dead now. I really thought we were going to have peace, for a few weeks there. Until today… or yesterday or whenever the "scandal" came out." Dearka responded.

"Is it really that bad?"

"It's worse, as far as I can tell. Orb is probably going to be annexed into the Atlantic Federation because it no longer has any rulers. I can only guess at what that'll mean for all of the Coordinators living in Orb. I don't like what I'm guessing, either. The Atlantic Federation always was the stronghold of Blue Cosmos support. Cagalli's been branded an international criminal, and I don't see how she can clear her name, since she'll be put in jail the moment she steps into public view. Athrun's going to be under suspicion of manipulating and influencing her for the good of the PLANTS, despite the fact that he has long been cut off from them. Because of Orb's support for and hosting of the peace talks, Cagalli being assumed to have been manipulated by Athrun, a Coordinator, well… the peace talks are dead. Orb's credibility is shot. Doesn't matter if it's not true. It just looks bad, and that's enough to kill peace at this stage." Dearka said, sketching out the situation.

"And then there is the personal implications too." Miriallia added.

"Yep. Cagalli has just been cut off from everyone but us. Kisaka, a surrogate father to her if there ever was one, is in jail and the person who she always thought of as her father, Lord Uzumi Nara Attha… well she can't call herself Yula Attha in public any more. She's been forced to acknowledge her father as not being her father. That has to really hurt, deep down inside." Dearka said.

"What about Athrun? How is he feeling?"

"I'm not one hundred percent on this, but I'd say he is feeling extremely pissed off, very guilty and frustrated. Pissed off for obvious reasons. Guilty because he's going to find some way to blame himself for the whole thing. And frustrated because he doesn't know what to do next." Dearka replied.

"Is he really going to blame himself for the whole thing? That seems stupid." Miriallia sighed.

"He's a lot like Kira in that regard. Whenever something bad happens to his friends or those he cares about, he automatically assumes it is because of some failing of his. He'll probably be thinking something along the lines of "if I never proposed to Cagalli, none of this would have ever happened."." Dearka said, slightly scornfully. "As if that made any sense at all."

"You don't think… this'll… change their relationship?" Mir asked.

"Why are you asking me all this? I don't even have a good handle on OUR relationship. You and I aren't having sex. I'm still a virgin. I couldn't even begin to guess how seeing myself having sex with you on live news would make me feel. Nauseated probably." Dearka protested.

"Nauseated?" Mir said sharply.

"Because everyone in the world would be able to see things I consider mine alone. Jealousy always makes me sick to my stomach." Dearka replied immediately.

"I don't know whether to be shocked or pleased." Mir responded.

"I'd also be really angry. I hope Athrun never gets his hands on that photographer. It won't be pretty if he does." Dearka hurried on.

"We already know… or pretty much anyway, that the cameraman and the "concerned citizen" were Blue Cosmos supporters. Maybe we should ask the others what they think. They should be done unpacking by now." Miriallia suggested.

"Good idea. Wait right here, Mir. I'll get Kira and Lacus." Dearka volunteered, rolling to his feet. He walked briskly out the door and down the hall. He put his hand on the knob and froze.

Miriallia was just sitting up when Dearka came rushing back into the room, a gleeful expression on his face. "What is it? You look strange." She asked, just he grabbed her arm and pulled her back out the door behind him. "Dearka! What are you doing?" she protested.

"SHHH!" he cautioned, stopping outside of the door to Kira's room, which was closed. "Tell me what you hear." He whispered. Mir looked at him, wondering if he'd become a tad crazy in the last thirty seconds.

"I don't hear…" she trailed off, frowning in concentration. Someone was sighing and giggling in the room. Some ones, more accurately. "What are they doing?"

"Oh come on. What do you think they're doing in a locked room?" Dearka said with a withering stare.

"Kira and Lacus?" Miriallia asked, incredulous. "I didn't think they were at that stage yet."

"Stress breeds strange bedfellows, sometimes literally. Or not so strange this time around. It's like in movies… the girl always has sex with the guy right after the big climactic battle when everyone thought he was dead." Dearka replied.

"That is the shallowest thing I have ever heard." Mir whispered.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes my life seems governed by clichés, I guess." Dearka said, backing away from the door. "Come on, let's let them have their fun. Great, at this rate I'll be the last one of all my friends to…" Dearka trailed off, finally considering that this might not be a good thing to say aloud.

"To what?" Mir asked firmly, pushing him into their room and shutting the door.

"I plead the fifth."

"To have sex?" she queried, slipping past him.

"Well… yes."

"Deal with it. We'll when I'm ready and not a day before. You can take that or leave me."

"I'll take that. Only from you though."

"See… that's why I find you so endearing. You talk such a tough line, but you're really a teddy bear at heart. Just like Ysak."

"You'd better not find him endearing." Dearka warned.

"Jealous are we? Feeling nauseous?"

"Aren't you? Here… maybe this'll help. Imagine Ysak nude. Feeling sick yet?"

"A little."

"Besides, he's already got two girls. A third would just be a mortal blow to my ego. And you've already said you couldn't share a man with another girl, much less with two." Dearka pointed out, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Watch your hands boy, or lose them." Miriallia warned as Dearka casually slipped one down her back. He froze and gently retracted his hand. "You said no questing hands on the bed." She reminded him.

"Does that mean its okay off the bed?"

"On your birthday… maybe."

"You're such a prudish girl. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Back home, with my shotgun toting dad." Mir answered. Dearka winced.

"That's right… I haven't met your parents yet. What are they like? Will they approve?"

"They're wonderful people. They approved of Tolle wholeheartedly." Mir replied. She noted his twisted facial expression. "That means they're going to absolutely adore you." She assured him. "They were pressuring me to get married when I met them at Orb, before Tolle was killed." Dearka was happy to note that she only slightly winced when she said that. She really was moving on.

"Your dad doesn't actually have a shotgun… does he?"

"He prefers piano wire, to tell the truth. Strings 'em up by their thumbs or drags 'em behind a car."

"Superb." Dearka said as if it were some horrible curse.

-------------------------------------

"Uncle Alkire is so cool! He has the car, the jet, awesome houses all over the world. Everything." Chanel cooed, sitting on Ysak's bed. She and Katie had unpacked quickly enough and then practically moved in next door, where Ysak had been sitting at the desk, writing something he had crumpled into his pocket when they came in. Chanel had contemplated trying to get whatever it was, but she knew now how uncomfortable Ysak got when she and Katie did things like reach into the front pockets of his pants, especially when he was wearing them at the time.

"He's also a good shot, is funny and charming. I suppose he's good looking, for an older guy." Katie added. "But not as good looking as our Ysak-y."

"Why must you two torment me so tirelessly? Don't you have anything better to do with your time than hang around my room?" Ysak asked irritably. He had been writing a letter to his mother when they had, as was their custom, barged in without knocking. _I'd lock the door, but they'd only kick it down or pick the lock._

"What were you writing, Ysak-y? It looked like a letter." Chanel stated, shifting position so she was now lying face down on his bed. Katie went over to Ysak himself and knelt next to his chair, resting her head on his arm. Ysak casually put his other hand on Katie's head and held her closer. _What am I doing? I'm just encouraging them to hang off me when I do this. But… it feels so nice, damn it all._

"It was a letter." Ysak told her.

"Bout what?" Katie asked sleepily.

"Personal stuff."

"To who?" Chanel mumbled.

"My mother."

"It's about us, isn't it?" Katie declared. Ysak was startled.

"What make's you think that?"

"What else could you tell a member of the interim PLANT supreme council about that she wouldn't already know? Certainly not the scandal." Chanel replied. Ysak frowned. _I really do have to remember that despite their lazy-kitten acts, these girls are sharp. Smart, perceptive, precise. All good qualities. If only they didn't scare me and confuse me._

"I'm asking her for advice." Ysak told them, taking the letter back out and smoothing out the crinkles.

"Advice?" Katie asked. "Advice on what?"

"On what to do. With the peace talks breaking down, I believe the PLANT civilians will suddenly be a lot more kindly towards the military. They'll want all the soldiers to come back and muster up. Maybe they'll even forget how much they hated me if the need is dire enough." Ysak responded.

"I don't want you to go, Ysak-y." they chorused.

"I don't know if I'm going to. That's why I'm asking my mother for advice." Ysak told them.

"Is that all the letter is? Advice asking?" Chanel asked. "I find that hard to believe. You wouldn't write a letter so incompletely." Ysak blushed slightly.

"Fine, fine. I'm also updating her on how everything has been with me. And Us. My mother is very interested in you two. She'd love to meet you, but I just don't see how that'd be possible." Ysak said.

"What'd you say about us?" Katie asked.

"Standard things. Irritating. Confusing. Irrational. Annoying." Ysak replied. He paused and then continued in a much, much quieter voice. "Beautiful. Entrancing. Alluring. Interesting. Yep… that's standard."

"You're so sweet, Ysak-y." Chanel told him.

"I also asked her for some romantic advice." Ysak admitted.

"You asked your mother for romantic advice?" Katie asked, shocked. "That's not normal, from what I hear. Most people try to keep their mother's out of their romantic lives."

"My relationship with my mother is much closer than most people's. She's the only parent I ever had. My father died when I was very young. Besides, if I don't ask her specific questions, she'll just give me general advice on her own initiative, which would be worse." Ysak informed them.

"What advice did you ask for?" both wanted to know. Ysak shook his head, irritated at himself for letting the subject slip. _This isn't something we should be discussing just now. Everyone is bound to be touchy about it for a while. Not a good time to bring up this particular subject, with the scandal video of Athrun and Cagalli._ Ysak blushed just thinking about that video. He'd had to shut his eyes and turn off the TV the moment he figured out who they were. _God help me, I never want to see either of them naked again. Much less going at it like that. The only ones I want to see naked are… no, no, not going to think that. Get a grip. Keep your mind serene. Not going to think of Chanel and Katie. Especially not nak… DAMN!_

"Tell us, come on Ysak-y. We won't laugh at you." Katie prodded.

"I know. You'd probably celebrate. Which would be worse." Ysak groaned. Both girls looked at him with pleading eyes. _It's not fair when they do that. Their eyes have hypnotic properties or something. When they look at me like that, I can't help but tell them whatever they want know._ Ysak thought helplessly. "Shut the door. Lock it so Dearka doesn't happen by. Then I'll tell you." Chanel leapt from the bed, flew to the door, shut it, locked it and was back on the bed in less than six seconds.

"I wanted to ask my mother what I should do when the time comes for intimacy." Ysak said, slowly and clearly. He closed his eyes and waited for the storm to descend upon him. Instead there was an uncanny silence. Ysak dared to crack open one eye to peek. Chanel and Katie were staring at him open mouthed. He cringed slightly and snapped his eye shut. "I'm sorry…" Ysak started to say. Before he could get any further though, one of them kissed him on the lips. He believed it was Chanel. She was the more demure one of the two. Meanwhile, the other one, likely Katie, was running her hands up and down his back and chest, like a hyperspeed massage. Katie was the one who always liked to touch rather than look.

"Don't apologize, Ysak." Katie replied, speaking his name properly, like the girls did when they were really serious. They saved the "Ysak-y" for when they were just kidding around. "We were just caught off guard. We didn't know you'd even been considering it."

Finally Chanel released him from the kiss. "I find myself thinking about it all the time. It bothers me. So I decided to ask for help. I don't know what to do." Ysak told them.

"We'll help you figure it out, Ysak." Chanel whispered into his ear. He had an involuntary shiver of pleasure. "It's not easy for us either. We've even had fights about it."

"Yes. We like sharing, but there really is only one of you. You can't sleep with both of us in that way at the same time. It's just not physically possible." Katie added. "And while I love my sister deeply… I find myself wanting to be the first instead of her."

"And vice versa." Chanel replied. "We try not to think about it too much; since we both know arguing about it would drive us apart. Maybe even away from you. And neither of us wants that."

"This whole situation… it's just so bewildering. I love you both so much… so equally. I couldn't decide amongst you. It'd break my heart to break one of yours by choosing the other sister as my favorite. And then there's the whole engagement thing… eventually weddings… I don't even know if three person marriages are legal."

"At least you don't have to worry about world opinion turning against you because of your past. Poor Athrun and Cagalli. I feel so bad for them." Katie said.

"Blue Cosmos really is evil. I mean, I didn't like them before, and I like them a lot less after we met you, Ysak. But what they did to Athrun and Cagalli… that's just too far." Chanel added.

"Don't wallow in pity or sympathy too much, loves. Athrun and Cagalli will be okay. They went through a lot in the last war. Both made great sacrifices and suffered huge losses. They'll work around their grief and feelings of betrayal. And then they'll go out there and get their revenge. Blue Cosmos will learn just what a monumental error it was to do… what they did… to Athrun AND Cagalli." Ysak said with certainty. "Especially since they have all of us, including your older sister and uncles, ready to help them out."

"Ysak… why exactly were you going to ask your mother for intimate advice? I know you were wondering what to do, but why ask now?" Katie asked.

"Because I can't get either of you out of my head. It feels like going through puberty again, but only with regard to you two. Aw, hell, the real reason is that ever since I glimpsed Athrun and Cagalli screwing nude on live TV, I couldn't help but want that relationship level for myself, despite the trouble it's caused them. I despise myself for that, but I can't deny it." Again a long silence descended. "I shouldn't have said that. Now is hardly a good time…" Ysak began, before both girls flung themselves bodily onto him, almost tipping him out of the chair. "Gah!"

"Oh, Ysak." Katie whispered.

"You're such a wonderful person." Chanel added.

"That's the highest compliment I've ever heard."

"Saying that even though you know of the consequences of that action, you wanted it anyway. That means a lot to us. Says a lot about your commitment."

"We only wish some of the others could have heard you say that."

"I don't. Dearka'd laugh himself sick." Ysak grumped. "But seriously, girls… where do we go from here? We should try and work something out… something plan like. If I keep hanging here in the void, I'm going to go nuts."

"Well… we want to wait for a while. At least until after you propose. Intimacy before that level of devotion isn't a good idea, in our estimation." Katie replied instantly.

"After that though… maybe draw straws?" Chanel suggested. "Flip a coin? Something that allows us to alternate."

"You know… I just realized something. I'm going to be totally worn out, trying to keep you both satisfied, aren't I?" Ysak said, already weary just thinking about it.

"We'll try to remember that you're just one guy. Even if you are a Coordinator. We'll have a few rest days."

"Thanks. But let's stop all this mushy stuff." Ysak decided, perking up. "Let's go explore around. I've never had the opportunity to explore a tropical island before."

---------------------------------------------

Athrun just looked at Cagalli as she lay, snuffling, on the bed. He was sitting at the desk, head propped up by one hand. His thoughts had been mostly blank all day. What was there to think about? His and Cagalli's lives had just been ruined. Their relationship wasn't damaged, though Athrun guessed Cagalli would be a lot more tentative and cautious about sex in the future, but their actual lives were ruined. They couldn't go outside in public situations without being arrested or harassed. Cagalli had lost her country, the life she had believed in as a proponent of world peace, and part of her past and identity. And Athrun had been partially the cause of that. He knew, deep inside his logical mind, that it wasn't his fault, that there was nothing he could have done. However, that never stopped him from feeling guilty before, and certainly didn't this time.

Cagalli continued her stifled sobbing. Athrun dearly wanted to go over and wrap her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew that physical contact just now was the last thing either of them needed. It would only remind them of last night, and the video. His physical presence in the room was all he could give Cagalli right now. Athrun sighed bitterly. He had thought his life couldn't get any worse after his father died, especially because of the way his father died. But then, of course, he had found Cagalli and everything had gone well. Goldenly. Wonderfully. But now his life was in the sewers again, thrown there by those too shortsighted by hatred to see what the world needed. It didn't need a single race, of just Naturals or just Coordinators. It needed humanity, and a peaceful humanity.

At least he still had great friends, who were there to support him and consol him and Cagalli during the difficult times. Kira had spent nearly the entire plane flight with them; save the time when Alkire had been throwing the plane all over the sky to escape the new model MS's. Kira hadn't said anything. He just sat there with a hand on Cagalli's shoulder and a hand on Athrun's shoulder and had cried with them, sharing their grief and pain. But now the tears were dry. For Athrun anyway. His thoughts turned, inevitably, to trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Obviously, someone in Blue Cosmos had managed to learn about Cagalli's picture of her as a baby. And had then managed to access her medical records and do some blood work on her blood that was stored in the Orb national hospital. Both feats implied a great deal of sophistication uncommon to most Blue Cosmos operations, which usually consisted of screaming fanatics firing handguns or automatic weapons into crowds, or drive by shootings. Athrun wondered how Blue Cosmos could hear of that picture in the first place. Cagalli never talked about it, and only those people who had been around when it was first given to her would know anything about it. That list included Athrun, Kira, Lacus, Miriallia, Dearka, Ysak, Captain Ramius, Colonel Kisaka, Sai Argyle, Mu La Flaga, and perhaps Andrew Waltfeld.

Of that list, Athrun could cross off himself, Kira, Lacus, Miriallia, Dearka and Ysak, because they were all close friends of his and Cagalli's, would never do anything to hurt them like this, and actually believed in and wanted peace to boot. Colonel Kisaka would probably tear out his own throat before telling anyone, his loyalty was unquestionable. Mu was dead. Andrew Waltfeld wanted peace as badly as anyone or more so, because of his injuries and the losses he suffered in the war. That left Sai, who was missing without a trace for more than a month now and Captain Ramius, who might have said anything in her fugue state. Of course, Ramius had reputably not spoken a word since she went into her fugue, so that probably ruled her out. Athrun moved her to the "maybe" list.

Athrun really didn't know Sai Argyle very well. He was a bridge crew member, not a mobile suit pilot or crewmember, so he and Athrun rarely came into contact with each other. Also, Athrun had spent most of the latter part of the war on the Eternal, while Sai was assigned to the Archangel. Athrun knew that Sai and Flay had formerly been together, an arranged marriage like his and Lacus's had been. But that had fallen apart during the Archangel's flight to Earth. Flay's father had been killed and she had blamed Kira for that, and then seduced him into continuing to make war on other Coordinators. She was one of the main reasons Kira would never have left the Earth Forces, despite how much Athrun had tried. He disliked her for that reason if none other.

Athrun focused back on Sai. From all he had heard, Sai was a staunch friend of Kira's, even becoming quite upset when Kira was thought dead, even though it was Kira that Flay had left him for. He was also close friends with Miriallia and Tolle, the skygrasper pilot Athrun had killed. Sai was supposed to be a very intelligent and honorable guy. The kind of person who would stand by your side till the bitter end, no matter the odds. He didn't sound like someone who would betray Cagalli like that. Sai even disliked Blue Cosmos on general principles. There didn't seem to be any way he could be the culprit.

But against that, Athrun had to weigh the fact that during the dress party-ambush, Sai had left just before everyone was about to be ambushed by Blue Cosmos. And they hadn't heard from him since, besides the fact that he was alive, having left the Manor before the police arrived. That was a seriously out of character move. Sai's parents had been due to pick him up in Switzerland in another week or so, but nobody knew where he was. Calling people and telling him was okay or safe or where he was wouldn't have been very hard. It wouldn't even take more than a minute or two. But Sai had just dropped off the map. Vanished into thin air. That made Athrun uncomfortable.

"Athrun?" Cagalli said, breaking him from his reverie. He blinked and finally noticed that she had stopped crying. Indeed, she had gotten up from the bed, crossed the room and was half crouching in front of him. All without him noticing. He must have been really zoned out. He reached out tentatively to touch her cheek. She almost managed to hide the flinch she made. Athrun started to pull back but then Cagalli leaned into his hand.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"For what?"

"For everything. I just couldn't protect you with this whole situation. I couldn't do anything but be a fellow victim. And just now, I was so caught up in my own thoughts I didn't even notice you walk over to me." Athrun replied.

"You were trying to figure out how this could have happened." Cagalli intuited. _He's always so practical and strong. I'm so lucky._

"Yes. I narrowed it down to either Captain Ramius or Sai Argyle. But I can't see either of them wanting to hurt you. Or even me. Not like this." Athrun replied. _I'm so lucky. She's so understanding. Like the other half of my whole._

"Captain Ramius would never do something like this. She held the Archangel back to search for me, back when we were stranded on that desert island together." Cagalli said with certainty.

"That's probably so. But she's in a vulnerable mental state and has been for a while. She may have just started muttering things, and the wrong person heard her." Athrun replied. "That time on the island… the first time I met you. Doesn't seem so far away. Only six months or so. Given how much you despised me then, I'm surprised it worked out so well."

"I didn't despise you then. I wouldn't have stripped to my underwear in front of someone I despised, even to get out of cold clothes. I didn't understand your reasons, that was all. I'm really sorry I shot you, when you killed that snake creeping up on me."

"Yeah. Seeing you in your underwear really made my day. Not every day I got to ogle a beautiful girl without having to get in trouble for it."

"You weren't ogling anything. You were so embarrassed you probably would have blindfolded yourself after a while."

"Don't apologize for shooting me. For all you knew, I was really throwing that knife at you. Sorry I tackled you to get the gun away."

"That didn't bother me as much as when I was still tied up and I accidentally rolled over into that tidal pool. The tide started coming in! And you just stood there with that superior grin on your face and asked me "Watcha doin?" as if nothing was happening. I wanted to strangle you right then."

"Maybe I shouldn't have untied you, with your violent thoughts and all. I did pull you out of the water, you know. And built a fire, gave you some rations and loaned you my only thermal blanket. Did that make up for my little fun at your expense?"

"I still can't believe you just fell asleep like that. I kept expecting you to just leap up and yell like the bogeyman when I got close to you."

"I was tired. Besides, I was pretty certain I could handle you."

"Still got that opinion?"

"No. Nobody can handle you unless you want them to. Fortunately, you seem to possess a deep desire to be handled. I'm just the only one who seems to understand that." Athrun said, his voice turning husky. His hand started to slide down her jaw. Cagalli trembled, just a hair. He stopped. "Too soon?" he asked, concerned. Cagalli's eyes teared. She nodded just slightly.

"I'm sorry. I want you so much too. But… I need to wait for a bit. Take stock. Recover from the shock of seeing us perform live for international audiences. We should sue Blue Cosmos for royalty rights."

"You seem fine with joking about it."

"Only because if I didn't joke I'd cry. I can talk about it, but I don't think I could go through the act. It's nothing against you. I just don't feel safe yet. Even though there are no windows and only one door. Seeing that video really shook me."

"No kidding. You looked dead for a while. You should have seen Dearka's face though. For a really brief moment, I could have sworn he was taking notes."

"Of course he was taking notes. We're the best there is, at anything we try. He just wanted to learn from the best. I wouldn't be surprised if some of our friends didn't try out a few of the "positions" you and I pioneered last night."

"Like that'll ever happen. Dearka and Miriallia seem content to go real slow and real steady. We'll be married by the time they go for it. Same for Kira and Lacus. They're just so tentative. Afraid to take the final plunge into sweet bliss, for some reason."

"And Ysak, Chanel and Katie?"

"Don't remind me. I don't even want to THINK about that situation. Their love life is going to be a travesty. It has problems even down at the basic mechanics level. There is simply no way for one guy to have meaningful sex with two girls at the same time. It's just impossible. And not Zacharis dodging bullets impossible, but actually impossible."

"Besides, he'd get worn out. I mean, you usually drop right off afterwards. It's sometimes annoying, actually."

"Sorry. But I do have other activities I do during the day. If I tried to keep up with you all the time, I'd lose fifty pounds of weight and would eventually go crazy from lack of rest. Girls are built differently from guys in that regard. You just seem to have more stamina in that one specialized area. Don't ask me how or why, it just seems to be a general rule." Athrun said. There came a sudden knocking on the door. Cagalli got up to answer it, opening the door. Dearka and Miriallia were just outside, with mixed expressions on their faces. Dearka clearly was bursting with news of some sort, but Miriallia had just as obviously cowed him for the moment. Mir on the other hand, was looking at Cagalli and Athrun in a friendly but concerned way.

"You two okay?" Mir asked.

"As well as we can be." Cagalli hedged.

"We're done grieving for the moment. I think some food would be good. We haven't eaten since Switzerland." Athrun decided. He looked at Dearka. "Spill it. Before you suffocate yourself choking it back."

"You won't believe what we heard Kira and Lacus doing." Dearka hissed nervously, his eyes darting around as if searching for eavesdroppers.

"Huh?" Cagalli and Athrun chorused.

"Let's just say they have a passionate side too. Just like all of us." Miriallia said sternly.

"You're not suggesting…" Cagalli trailed off.

"I didn't see it, no. But they were making the correct sounds." Dearka replied.

"How the hell do you know what the correct "sounds" are?" Mir asked him suspiciously. Dearka looked a lot more nervous.

"Umm… well… I'll go see what sort of food they have in the kitchen." He volunteered, sprinting away with Mir close on his heels, her hands reaching for his neck.

"That's surprising." Athrun said.

"If it's true. Dearka exaggerates constantly." Cagalli replied. "I just can't see Kira and Lacus…"

"He couldn't see you and me either. Sibling syndrome. Neither of you can imagine the other in that situation. Thank goodness." Athrun said. "I actually hope it is true. It should bring them closer together. And it's not like they have any choice but to sleep in the same bed, with these tiny rooms. Best they enjoy it to the max."

"You're such a dirty minded man."

"Me? Dirty minded? You're the one who said all our friends would be copying our positions. With some degree of satisfaction, I might add. Come on. Let's get some lunch… dinner… whatever."


	19. Crisis in Space

"This room is amazing. You constantly surprise me, Robert." Raine said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The master bedroom was mostly dark at this time, but it was very richly appointed. That, however, wasn't what had drawn Raine's interest. Rather, the thing that interested her was the skylight. It wasn't really a skylight, since it didn't show the sky. It was more of a porthole, looking up into a coral reef. It had a mechanical shutter that could open or close to block off or reveal the view. It had been blocked off when they walked in, but then Alkire… Robert… had opened it with a wide smile.

"What have I told you all about calling me Robert?" Alkire said in exasperation. "Robert's dead. Shot down by MP's while trying to escape the Atlantic Federation Armed Forces."

"Come on now. If you're going to be a father figure now, don't you think you should have a real name?" Raine admonished.

"Alkire's a real name. I like Alkire, personally. Alkire Majesty. Has an exotic ring to it." Alkire protested. Raine rolled her eyes.

"Please. Even the girls think it's phony." Raine said. Alkire looked wounded. "Okay… fine. Just get rid of Majesty. That's the part that I don't like. Alkire Jones is perfectly acceptable." Alkire scowled.

"I'll consider it. You really now how to squash a guy's creativity."

"Turn your expansive mind towards other pursuits. Like figuring out how to be a great dad, and figuring out what to do next."

"Besides produce more children with you?"

"Don't make me assassinate you before we've even slept together. Or worse, don't force me to go get Vlad to straighten you out. He's very overprotective, you know." Raine said, perfectly mimicking Katie threatening to sic her Uncle on a hapless boy.

"Please don't hurt me." Alkire said, chuckling. "But in all seriousness, I think we should just lie low for a while. This complex has everything we're going to need for the next little while."

"How long is a little while? And what "complex" are you speaking of?"

"With the nine of us… we're probably good on supplies for the next… three years, give or take a few months. As for the other question… why don't I show you." Alkire walked over to what looked like a blank wall. It was only when it shimmered ever so slightly that Raine saw it was actually a large TV screen, which projected a seamless image of a section of wall. "Map." Alkire ordered the air. The screen changed from a wall to a 2D overlay of the area around the safehouse.

"Voice commands. Sexy." Raine commented. Alkire gave her a glare.

"Show all buildings in the complex in blue." He ordered. Immediately, a network of blue boxes connected by thin blue lines appeared on the map of the peninsula. The largest blue block, in the center, where the ruined house was, was labeled "Hub". Six lines radiated outward from it. They were labeled "Tunnels". One tunnel led to a box about a kilometer away on the far side of the peninsula. The box was labeled "Generator". The other five boxes were labeled "Gun Range", "Practice Room", "Hanger", "Communications" and "Command Center".

"This place is huge!" Raine gasped in awe. Alkire smiled proudly.

"Welcome to the family headquarters. You don't wanna know how much this all cost." Alkire said smugly.

"What about the family?" Raine asked without thinking. Alkire froze. Raine covered her mouth in regret. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You don't talk about it."

"Neh. If I can't talk to my wife about it, who can I talk to? My family was killed in the riots caused by the energy crisis. They left me everything. Which is a lot. Asmodeus's unit was supposed to evac them. They botched it. Maybe on purpose. I never was able to find out. Then, when the opportunity came, to solve the energy crisis, that's why I freaked out. People wanted to continue the war, rather than save all the poor people suffering from the energy crisis. It was all so… senseless. I looked back at what I'd been doing ever since the start of the war… and I had nothing to be proud of. Sabotage missions, scouting missions… missions… more missions… always missions. Ever since the first month of the war, when I straightened out my family affairs after their deaths, I'd been doing nothing but one mission after another. And none of the missions really helped do anything to bring the war to a close." Alkire replied, putting a hand to his head and massaging his temples.

"I had no idea." Raine whispered.

"Of course not. I never told anyone. None of us are exactly talkative about our respective pasts."

"But you never mentioned you had a wealthy family, even back when we were in Kisaka's class. In fact, I clearly remember you saying you came from a poor mechanic's family, in the former United States of America." Raine replied.

"Are you saying that the background you told everyone in that class was accurate?" Alkire said with a smirk. Raine smiled back and shook her head. "My family had fingers in lots of pies. My dad really did start out as a poor mechanic though. We were never a very public family, which is why almost no one has heard of us. Our primary business wasn't very legitimate, actually. Arms trading. We were the middlemen. We got the weapons from the legitimate depots and sold it to the actual dealers. We were pretty global. Lots of competitors. One of those decided to use the chaos of the energy crisis as cover for a takeover. He's dead now, but so is my family."

"I'm sorry." Raine told him, settling an arm around him.

"Thanks. It felt pretty good to open up for a moment." Alkire replied. He smiled at her. "Any revelations from your side of the fence? You're not a super rich scion or former supermodel or crime fighting action hero or anything?" he grunted as she punched him lightly in the ribs.

"I'm from eastern Europe. One of the older former countries that used to have civil war problems, before the Eurasian Fedeartion came along. Truth be told, it still had a lot of problems with gangs and terrorist groups. My family worked as farmers. We were peaceful. But then a turf war between two rival terrorist groups rolled onto our land and in the chaos, my family was killed. It was nothing out of the ordinary. I spent the rest of my young life making myself strong, so that I could protect my new family, if ever I found one, from a similar fate. That's all. I must have been about Chanel's and Katie's age at the time. That's why… when we found them… there… I had to take them with us." Raine explained.

"I know what you mean. But enough gloom and doom. Now that we've got this stuff out in the open, we can be a normal married couple once again, and start worrying about our friends and the gossip around them." Alkire said cheerfully.

"Your definition of normal has always been a little off." Raine told him, turning back to study the screen map. "You have a gun range here?"

"For testing some of the product before sending it off to the customers. People who sold stuff that didn't work had a bad habit of meeting up with their very disappointed customers in violent confrontations in my family's line of work. Its big enough for pistol and automatic weapon fire, but you'll want to go outside if you want to practice with your sniper rifle." Alkire clarified.

"Practice room?"

"How do think I got so damn good at what I do?" I've been a commando since I was eight. I was the black sheep of the family, joining the legitimate military rather than becoming chief of security." Alkire shrugged. "It's basically a small gym, complete with padded mats and all the equipment for almost any sort of physical training or exercise."

"A hanger?" Raine said, slightly incredulous.

"Slang for the garage. It's big enough, I guess. We'll certainly have enough room for the vehicles we've got, even with the tank and the minisub already there. The hanger is also where the fuel and much of the living supplies are stored."

"Why weren't we living here from the beginning?" Raine asked suddenly. "It would have made a lot more sense than the apartments in Bern."

"Painful memories. This is a pretty private place, y'know. Family secret and all that. Nobody in the world knows about this place. Or rather, those that do don't know what it is they know, and so can't give it away."

"I'm touched then, that you'd bring us here."

"For the girls? For you? And for Vlad, James and Victor? It's past time we were here. Now we can get serious about TEMPEST."

"What about Ysak and the other kids?" Raine asked. Alkire gestured for her to take a seat. She complied, sitting on the edge of the bed. Alkire sat down in an easy chair across from her.

"It's a tough situation. These aren't just ordinary kids. Most of them are soldiers, in one form or another. Failing that, they had important parents, or acted in some way that directly influenced the outcome of the war. These people didn't just fight at Jachin Due and GENESIS… their actions shaped the flow of those battles and may have even decided who ultimately won or lost. I haven't heard anything close to a coherent story from them about it and even Vlad's sources are pretty vague. I've held off from asking for politenesses sake, and because I could tell they were suffering under a great burden and I felt no need to trouble them further. But that was before this situation." Alkire began.

"Yes. Before Blue Cosmos used them to destroy the peace talks they fought so hard to create." Raine agreed. Alkire cocked an eye at her.

"You know something?"

"Just what the girls have learned listening to Ysak's stories. If they're at all accurate… and given Ysak, they're probably understated, if anything… then you were right about how what these kids did mattering to the war. You know how Azrael and the AFSF (Atlantic Federation Space Forces) tried to nuke the plant home colonies, right? You heard about how all the missiles got blown up by some ZAFT defense system before they could hit the PLANTS. You might even have seen the video of all the nuclear detonations."

"Yes. I was fresh out of the service then, but it was all over the news."

"There was no ZAFT defence system. It was Kira and Athrun blowing the missiles out of space using their Mobile suits. They got all of them. Not a single nuke hit a PLANT." Raine said in awe.

"So you're saying they're skilled then."

"Ysak is an elite ZAFT soldier and mobile suit pilot. He's right up there with Le Cresuet and their other top aces. He couldn't even get close enough to shoot at the missiles that Kira and Athrun destroyed. They're the equivalent of Vlad, but for mobile suits. Put Kira, Athrun, Dearka, Ysak and Cagalli in mobile suits and they could probably hold off the combined space fleet of the Atlantic Federation, for a while anyway."

"You make them sound like heroes or gods."

"Maybe they are. Heroes anyway. Way I heard it, Athrun blew up GENESIS using a self destruct on his MS moments before it could fry the Earth and everyone on it. Kira meanwhile not only battled Le Cresuet to a standstill, but actually killed the crazy son of a bitch too. Those two young men changed the course of history then, I think."

"What about the girls?"

"Mir's just a nice young girl from Orb, who got caught up in the whole thing because she was Kira's friend. Lacus is of course the daughter of the late Siegel Clyne, the former PLANT supreme chairman. Her supporters in the PLANTS are probably the only reason the peace negations haven't totally fallen apart. She also helped bring the war to an end by participating, if indirectly, at Jachin Due. And poor Cagalli was, until a day ago, Queen of Orb, the leader of the World Peace Organization. Now she's a humiliated, former Queen with no country to call her own. Of course, she still has her brother Kira and Athrun… two of the most formidable people around, I think."

"Blue Cosmos may have bitten off more than they can chew." Alkire reasoned.

"Get these kids their MS's and I think you'll be right."

"How do we do that?"

"Not quickly or easily. The mobile suits are in Orb, at the Morganroete facilities there. Given the current situation, the kids won't be able to travel for a while. And Orb likely won't settle down for a while either. I think the best bet is just lay low for a while. Rest some more, recuperate some more, train some more. Put out feelers and gather information. Once we better understand what Blue Cosmos is up to, we can decide what to do then." Raine planned out.

"You know what?" Alkire asked, an amused smile rippling across his face.

"What?"

"I think there's better things a newly wed husband and wife could be doing than discussing long term strategy. You thought the sealight and wall display were cool… I can't wait to show you the bed, honey." Alkire purred. Raine smiled back.

"I got myself in way over my head when I chose you, didn't I?"

"You jumped in the deep end, that's for sure. Now stop talking."

-----------------------------------

"Subject is awakening. Sedation levels are reaching minimum allowable. He'll be awake in approximately ten seconds. All personnel clear the recovery chamber." The PA system blared through the training complex. White coated doctors, scientists and assistants scurried about, locking up tools and instruments and vacating all areas close to the recovery room. Markov Ashino glared up at the ceiling in annoyance from his position in the weight room, where he was doing his daily workout.

"So Frost is dethawing again. Lucky us." He commented sarcastically to the bare room. He got slowly to his feet and wiped his face off with his small towel. He discarded the disgustingly small and safe towel in a bin and walked out of the weight room. The BCPU 4 sauntered through the deserted gym until he stood outside the door to the recovery room, which was heavily reinforced with steel plates and bars. He counted away the slow seconds until his sensitive ears could pick up the sounds of Frost waking up. Grunts and the noise of plastic restraining straps being torn from their mountings. It took longer than usual, as Frost was still injured and nowhere near top form. Still, in less than half a minute, the six hundred pound door slowly swung open and Frost stalked out, his left arm and shoulder still heavily bandaged and his gunshot wounds still visible as pale scars.

"Have a nice nap?" Ashino asked snidely. Frost stared at him hungrily.

"You're brave today, Ashino. Usually you'd be on the other side of a barrier before talking to me. Ever since that regrettable incident with the spoon shiv, you've been less than social towards me." Frost noted.

"Regrettable? I didn't think you felt regret any more, beast." Ashino spat, hands balling into fists at the memory. Frost had swiped a regular spoon from his meal tray and sharpened it into a shiv with which he had slit one doctor's throat and nearly carved Ashino's eyes out in his sleep.

"Well, you're still alive, so obviously I regret that. I hate failing to kill someone."

"You must be really steamed then. All of those teenagers that kicked your ass from here to Sunday are still alive and well." Ashino goaded. Frost's eyes glinted and he took a slow step forward.

"Frost… good to see you, man. I heard about Amy. That sucks." Cray Thresher said from the restroom doorway. Ashino and Frost turned to the last BCPU. Cray was tall and thin, with lank blond hair and grey eyes, while Ashino was short, though not as short as Frost, with pale red hair and green eyes.

"How so?" Frost asked.

"Don't gimme that. Even you enjoy a good fuck now and then. With Amy gone, we won't be getting any female companionship for a while." Cray grinned lopsidedly.

"Had plenty of that on my last job. Cervantes's daughter couldn't keep her hands off me. It bugged Ray crazy like." Frost smiled, in a good mood suddenly.

"Yeah, I heard about how that little fuck took a bullet to the temple. It was too quick and easy for my liking. I wanted to do it myself. Little bastard was always caressing the kill switch like a surrogate dick." Cray snarled.

"They are listening to this conversation. And recording it. And sending it to Cervantes and Asmodeus." Ashino commented.

"And?" Frost asked.

"Asmodeus isn't gonna like us bad mouthing his dead son."

"Fuck Asmodeus. He got a problem, he can come in here and say it. Not that he will. They're all scared of us." Cray noted.

"Well… they're scared of me anyway. You two they know they can control," Frost replied in a superior tone.

"Screw you. If you was so free, why the hell are they all still alive?" Cray snorted.

"Don't make me kill you."

"Make you? I'm probably going to have to fight to stop you, and we both know it."

"Yeeaahh… true. Wanna fight?" Frost said dreamily.

"You're injured. You move that arm too much, it'll fall off, implants or no implants." Ashino warned.

"You're such a pansy. I don't know why they bothered upgrading you at all." Cray said dangerously. "You remind me more of meat than man."

"Stay the hell away from me, Thresher. They need all of us, now that Amy is dead. You try and slit my throat again and they'll put you under so deep Frost'll look like a light sleeper. They can keep you on ice until they need you… they don't have to let you walk around and have a semblance of a normal life." Ashino said reasonably. Cray and Frost shared a hollow laugh.

"Normal life? I'm a psychotic killer, with enhanced physical and mental abilities. There's no such thing as a normal life for me any more." Cray retorted.

"What is life? I don't know anything but death. Death, pain, suffering and rage. Nothing else exists for me." Frost added.

"So that means you prefer to sleep long and deep?" Ashino asked shrewdly. Neither of the other two said anything. "I thought so. Now… do you know why they woke Frost up this time?"

"Wound checkup maybe?" Cray suggested. "You were hurt pretty bad, man. Worse than ever before, I'm pretty sure."

"True enough. Of course, you guys'd be dead if someone shot at you with a machine gun from twenty feet away." Frost allowed. Cray shrugged and Ashino just shook his head. They were intimately familiar with Frost's superior physical abilities.

"Nah, not wound checkup. They'd just use their instruments to tell when he was done healing. No need for them to risk themselves waking him up. They lose someone practically every time that happens. I think it might be a brief." Ashino decided.

"Frost thinks Ashino has a point. Maybe our MS's are done. Maybe it'll be another simulator run. Maybe you two will get to do a live test." Frost intoned. He shrugged, knowing that he'd never get a live test run. They'd probably never let him into the Fury, because they knew that he'd be unstoppable. They thought he'd turn their precious MS back on them the moment he gained control of it. They were right to think so. Frost's enhancements had boosted not only his physical abilities but also his mind, even as it twisted it. There wasn't a self destruct device he couldn't disarm within seconds of entering the cockpit and he already hurt all over so much that the added pain from drug withdrawal mattered as much as a raindrop to a river.

"All subjects report to the briefing room. Now." The PA warbled.

"Aye aye, Doc." Ashino waved a salute, as did Cray. Frost glared up at the announcing device like he wanted to rip it from the ceiling.

"Doc is gonna get his." Frost promised, for the umpteenth time.

"Maybe so, #13z. Maybe so. But not today and not from one of my own creations." The Doc, the scientist in charge of the JIHAD project, replied calmly. "Now report to the briefing room. You won't regret it."

Frost joined his two "comrades" in the small briefing room. There were no chairs or other objects that could be conceivably used as weapons. A large wallscreen came to life as Frost walked in. The bespectacled and frowning face of the Doc appeared on the screen. "Your wounds are healing according to schedule, #13z. You'll be back at optimum in another week or so. You'll have to be more careful next time. You have set JIHAD back by nearly a month because of your failure. Mr. Zunnichi was most displeased."

Frost snorted and glared. Like he cared about Cervantes or how he felt. Sometimes it bothered him that he didn't care about anything. Most of the time though, he didn't care enough to be bothered. "You'll all be interested in knowing that the Bane, the Merciless and the Fury have been completed, as have one and a half Purifiers. Crusader production runs at fifty units, minus one destroyed in Bern a day ago. In short, the JIHAD is almost ready for phase two. The peace talks have nearly collapsed and there is much tension between the Earth and the PLANTS. War is just a minor incident away."

"What kind of incident are we talking about here? An assassination? A riot?" Ashino asked.

"Mr. Zunnichi is thinking more along the lines of a nuclear attack on the Earth Alliance, with a simultaneous destruction of a PLANT." Doc replied.

"That's minor?" Cray said, incredulous.

"Compared to what JIHAD is designed to do, yes, actually. Once phase four is completed, I wouldn't be at all surprised if there wasn't a single PLANT remaining, nor much left of the Atlantic Federation." Doc answered.

"You mean not much left that doesn't support Blue Cosmos. That is what JIHAD is about, after all, cleansing the world of Coordinators and those sympathetic to them, once and for all." Frost clarified.

"Of course. Mr. Zunnichi doesn't wish to destroy the world, just purify it. There is much corruption and waste to be rid of, and the process won't be easy or bloodless. Now, the part you three will play in this is very critical. The Earth forces are aware of the Strike Crusader model of MS, as a prototype anyway. We cannot use them just yet. But the Bane, the Merciless and the Fury are still unknown to the world or anyone outside the JIHAD project."

"You mean we'll actually be allowed to take them out for a test run in actual combat situations?" Cray said, delighted.

"Exactly. The Bane and the Merciless will assault Pearl Harbor, wiping it and the fleet base there out. The attack will be blamed on the PLANTS. Meanwhile, the completed Purifier and the Fury will assault Junius Six, destroying it if at all possible. That attack will be blamed on the Earth Forces. With any luck at all, both sides will once again be in full hostilities after this operation." Doc told them.

"Wait a minute… you're sending me out in the Fury? Into a full combat situation, with no restrictions?" Frost asked, suspicious. "That's crazy. You know what I'm like."

"You'll be surrounded by hundreds of ZAFT warships and Mobile suits. If you have the time for treachery, then your abilities are even greater than I can imagine. And I can imagine a great deal more than you're currently capable of. Besides, Captain Asmodeus will be piloting the Purifier. He'll have a remote access bomb controller wired to a thermonuclear warhead mounted on the back of the Fury. It won't be accessible from the cockpit, so there is no way you could disarm it. And I still believe you don't wish to die just yet, Frost, despite your seeming indifference. How could you die without exacting your revenge on me and Mr. Zunnichi, much less the rest of this too cruel world?" the Doc replied shrewdly.

"You remind me again why you have to die, Doc. You know me too well. At least as well as I know myself." Frost threatened. The Doc just smiled and nodded.

"After phase five, you can take your revenge. God knows I deserve everything you want to do to me. The sins I've committed are too numerous to recount, and make your petty bloodthirstyness look like childs play." The Doc agreed.

"When are we conducting this operation?" Ashino asked.

"As soon as Frost is again in top form. Roughly 1.5 weeks from now. We'll be doing simulators every day until then. That's where you're going next. Make me proud, boys." The Doc said.

"Aye aye, Doc." All three BCPU's replied softly.

-------------------------------------------------

Lacus was not having fun. Being cooped up inside this compound reminded her too much of when she'd been a "hostage" aboard the Archangel. Worse, she was surrounded by people who were, to put it lightly, not peacable. Death was their business, and they were very good at their business. Lacus was especially worried about how being surrounded by this kind of people would affect Kira. Even during the war, he'd been around people who were very humanitarian in their outlooks. Captain Ramius was a very moral person, and Mu La Flaga, Kira's mentor, had been fun loving and easygoing, but also possessed of a strong sense of what was right.

Not that Alkire, Raine and the other commandos were bad people, by any means. They'd rescued Kira, herself and everyone else from Frost and had protected them and sheltered them ever since. Alkire had opened his own family house to them, and he barely knew them, other than that they were friends of Ysak's. It was just that to these people, killing their enemies was as natural as breathing. To them, a war was ended by killing enough enemies that the remainder didn't want to fight anymore. They had trouble seeing what a vicious cycle killing was. They just didn't understand what Cagalli said about one person being killed, then their killer being killed for revenge and so forth and so on in a wider and wider spiral of death.

Lacus frowned. Even now, Kira was being taught how to "defend" himself in hand to hand combat by James. To Lacus's eyes, most of the defensive moves ended up with your opponent in agony or lying dead on the ground with their neck broken. At least it wasn't Vladimir teaching him. Lacus still got shivers whenever that man was around. She'd been very young when he was still active as the Strangler Horrificus, too young to really be afraid of the stories. But now… now she could appreciate what it was like to lose someone you loved. She didn't want to think about what it would be like if someone stole into her house and stole her child away, never to be seen alive again.

The thought of children made her smile. She was making some progress with her relationship to Kira, at least. He was still very shy, tentative and private, but he was becoming more like the teenagers Lacus had known in the PLANTS. He smiled a lot more, and made jokes and generally acted a lot more like Dearka and Athrun than before. In the week and a half since that first night, he had shown he was more like Athrun than even she'd thought. Kira could be very passionate too; he just kept it under a much tighter leash than her former fiancée did these days. He wouldn't do more than kiss, cuddle and hold hands in public. But turn out the lights, lock the doors and get into bed and he'd… well… he was everything Lacus could have imagined it would be like.

"You're zoned out again." Cagalli commented, sitting down next to Lacus on the floor of the gym.

"Oh, hello, Cagalli. How are you today?" Lacus asked brightly, blinking her eyes back into focus on the here and now.

"Late night again?" Cagalli asked wickedly. Lacus blushed. Her friend was always so forward.

"A little." Lacus allowed. "What about you?"

"Not yet." Cagalli said guardedly. "It's driving Athrun up the wall, but I'm still jumpy. It's like the nightmares after Frost. I know I'm safe, that nothing bad will happen. Doesn't stop me from having nightmares though."

"I understand. I'd feel the same, if I was you." Lacus said. She heard a grunt from the mat and looked over towards Kira and James. Kira had the larger man down on the ground, with one arm twisted behind him, face pressed firmly into the mat.

"My win." Kira panted. He released James and stepped back a pace. Sweat rolled down his face and arms and soaked his gym shirt to translucence. Lacus caught herself staring, even though she'd seen him in considerably less than a sweat soaked gym shirt.

"You're getting good, Kira. I'm not saying you could take out a commando, but if anyone else made a grab for you, they'd end up regretting it pretty hard." James said with a smile. He wasn't even really breathing hard. He popped his shoulder loudly as he stretched and got back to his feet. "You might be ready for Raine, next. But first, we should go have some lunch. I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Captain. I don't know how you can each so much." Kira commented with a smile.

"What can I say? I'm good at everything I do. Especially scoffing." James said with a belly laugh. "I'll go get Vlad and Victor. Meet you at the hub." He continued, slipping out the far door of the gym, which led to the gun range and eventually back around to the hanger. Kira walked over to Lacus and Cagalli. They stood as he came up.

"You cleaned his clock, little brother. I never thought I'd see the day when you beat up someone else. You're turning into a regular bully." Cagalli needled. Kira still had the grace to blush, which pleased Lacus to no end. He was still the same kindhearted person he always had been, at heart.

"What have you been up to?" Kira asked, as they headed down the tunnel to the living hub from the practice room.

"Watching Athrun, Dearka and Ysak get their butts kicked in a paintball match against Raine and Chanel and Katie. Ysak is, as usual, pissed off about it all, but Dearka and Athrun at least had the grace to say that they were outmaneuvered, which they were and outshot, which they definitely were. Outside of a Mobile suit, they really aren't that tough. Tougher than me, certainly, but nothing training can't compensate for." Cagalli replied.

"You aren't all that soft yourself, Cagalli. I mean, most people wouldn't be able to do the things you do." Kira pointed out. Cagalli shrugged.

"Maybe so. As for how soft I am, well, that's debatable. To hear Athrun tell it, I'm soft in all the right ways." She said with a wide grin.

"Yeah… I didn't need to hear that." Kira grumbled.

"Oh, shut up. It's not like you don't feel that way about Lacus, right? It's how guys feel about girls, moron." Cagalli sighed.

"Yes… right… but you don't have to be so public about it." Kira protested.

"Let's not get into another argument about this. You two always have this fight whenever you get together for more than a few minutes." Lacus admonished.

"Only because he won't admit I'm right."

"No, because I won't admit you're completely right. You're right about some things, but wrong about others. I don't see how you can be so sensible about the world political situation but so mulish about your relationship to my best friend."

"I oughta hit you."

"You couldn't hit me if you tried."

"Do all brothers and sisters act like this?" Lacus asked.

"Huh, I hit Athrun all the time. What makes you think you're special?"

"Athrun wants you to hit him. Odd as it seems to me, that seems to be your method of foreplay. You punch him a few times, he pulls you close and you go on from there. I hope you can see how crazy that is."

"What? Just because Athrun and I don't hold hands and go for romantic walks or have quiet dinner dates, we're crazy?"

"Please…" Lacus continued, desperately trying not to laugh.

"Well… I can't exactly say that. Still, physical abuse doesn't strike me as the most romantic thing to do as a couple."

"It's not abuse. Athrun hasn't hurt me in my life… well, he did toss me around a little on that island, but I tried to kill him first, so that's okay. And he's a Coordinator, I doubt I could hurt him too much even if I really belted him."

"Just because a person is a Coordinator doesn't mean they can shrug off a punch. It still hurts when I stub my toe or jam my hand in a door. Being a Coordinator hasn't rendered me immune to pain. I really wish it had, but it doesn't."

"Why are we talking about hitting people?" Lacus wondered. By this time, they had made it down the tunnel and into the living quarters. Food for lunch was already laid out on the main table. Like most of their lunches so far, it consisted of cold cuts of meat, sandwich breads, various fruits and vegetables and condiments. "Sandwiches again?" Lacus asked, slightly dispirited. Sandwiches were well and good, but eating the same thing for a week and a half was starting to get really tedious.

"Hey, if you want something else, you should tell me in advance. I could always go out and get a few burgers or something on my next trip into town." Alkire noted, slipping into the common room from the passage that led to the master bedroom.

"Would you please? I'm grateful for the free meals, but they are getting really repetitive." Lacus said with a wide smile.

"Learned anything yet?" Kira asked Alkire, as he started to make himself a turkey sandwich.

"Nothing helpful. I've confirmed that Blue Cosmos leaked that video and photo to the press. I'm pretty sure the name of the cameraman is going to turn out to be Wayne Dumash. He's a reasonably notorious any-dirty-job sort of guy. The only reason he's stayed out of jail is that the Earth Forces have been too busy fighting a war to waste time hunting him down. Not surprising that he'd be willing to disrupt the peace talks. And he certainly has the skills needed to pull off a job of that magnitude. Other than that, things are suspiciously quiet." Alkire replied.

"Only you could possibly consider quiet suspicious." Raine commented, also coming out of the master bedroom. "I, for one, am relieved things have been quiet. I half expected Orb to send out its military to search for Cagalli and Athrun and I know Switzerland would probably like to have a nice long talk with you and the rest of TEMPEST, Alkire."

"But it doesn't make sense for Blue Cosmos to just wait quietly after they dropped their bombshell. Every hour brings the peace talks closer to being back online, if not as steady as they used to be. Even a serious blow like that video and picture couldn't derail the talks completely. GENESIS scared people. They're still scared of war again so soon. Nobody wants hostilities to resume. Besides, most nations have privately recognized that the video and picture were a blatant character assassination. If Blue Cosmos doesn't follow up soon, their operation will have been wasted, doing nothing more than causing a few days of scandal and seriously pissing off Cagalli and Athrun." Alkire argued. "Point taken about Switzerland though. Though I do hear their prisons are real nice."

"What's this about prisons?" Victor said, entering from the direction of the garage, followed closely by Vlad. Athrun, Ysak, Dearka, Chanel and Katie all piled in behind them. The three Coordinators were covered in blue and green paint, while only a few spots of red paint marred Chanel and Katie, and none appeared anywhere on Raine, Lacus noted.

"Just talking about upgrading your quarters, Victor. We thought maybe sending you to prison might teach you better table manners, give you a change of scene, that sort of thing." Alkire replied casually.

"Which prison? I've been to prisons in the AF, EF and Kingdom of Scandanavia. Of those, I liked the Kingdom of Scandanavia the least. They still have a few… gulags… I believe they are called, from back a few centuries ago. Nasty places." Victor commented.

"Bah, there is nothing wrong with gulags. They make a man strong. Remind you of what the real world has to offer. Sure, the beatings… the physical labor… the throat slitting… maybe that is considered harsh by modern standards. But in the Scandanavian Underworld, such things are relaxing. The gulags are vacation spots compared to some areas I can remember." Vladimir grumbled.

"That's disturbing. You really have a working knowledge of these prisons, that you can compare which is the worst?" Dearka said tiredly. "The worst place I've ever been was the brig on the Archangel. Being stuck in that room for even a few days was driving me nuts, and they brought me regular meals and didn't even ask me any questions."

"Part of advanced commando training. You gotta get yourself thrown into prison, and then break out. You can choose which prison, but if you choose some pansy minimum security jail, you don't get much respect. Though if you want my advice, you will stay out of the Kingdom of Scandinavia. Despite what Vlad says, the torture there really sucks." Alkire explained. Lacus gasped.

"People aren't tortured in prisons any more. Its' been illegal for centuries." She pointed out. All members of TEMPEST present had a good laugh over that.

"Sure… people aren't tortured in prisons… just like Blue Cosmos doesn't use nuclear weapons." Victor said grimly. "When you're in prison, you leave behind the real world. The real world only knows what the warden wants them to know. Who's going to say different from him, anyway?"

"There are good prisons, where prisoners are treated humanely and given rights." Raine cut in. "However, the kinds of prisons that commando's deal with aren't that kind. And I think that's enough discussion of prisons. Let's see whats on the news." She continued, flipping on one of several large wall screens situated around the room.

"… an update on the crisis in space." The announcer was just saying. Dearka accidently squeezed the mustard bottle too hard, sending yellow mustard spraying across the sandwich table.

"Crisis in space?" he choked.

"SHHH!" half a dozen people said urgently, as Raine turned up the volume.

"A warning, the upcoming footage may be disturbing to some viewers. We will be going live to the Solar News Station feed of the current situation around Junius Six." The announcer declared.

"Solar News Station? That's a PLANT station." Ysak muttered. The screen cut to a view of space. The hourglass shaped PLANT hung large in the background. Scores of ZAFT warships and hundreds of mobile suits filled the space around the colony. Weapons fire strung lines of green and gold across space.

"Oh, a war! Who's winning?" James cried, bounding into the room. Everyone turned and glared at him until he held up his hands in apology.

"A little more than ten minutes ago, a pair of Earth Forces mobile suits assaulted the defenses around Junius Six. Despite repeated calls to veer off, the two suits have blown through the defense lines and are currently making a beeline for the PLANT, ignoring the best efforts of the ZAFT warships nearby." The announcer declared from off screen.

"How the hell did two Earth Forces suits get past our defense lines?" Ysak snarled.

"What, are they asleep up there?"

"That is strange. Two mobile suits shouldn't be much of a challenge for the homeland defenses." Athrun mused. "Especially since the strike daggers aren't all that powerful."

"They didn't say they were strike daggers." Kira pointed out.

"True… more new models, you think?" Athrun said.

"I hope not. The last three were tough." Kira replied.

"Here is footage of the Earth Forces mobile suits breaking through the ZAFT defense line." The announcer said, as the view switched to a much better defined view of a ZAFT warship and attendant group of eight Ginns hanging in space. Two bright drive contrails soared towards them from the direction of Earth. Everyone watched avidly as the ZAFT forces engaged the interlopers, bright beam blasts and stutters of cannon fire blazing through space towards the enemy. The two enemies wove through the incoming fire like they were on a simple obstacle course.

"The one in front is much better than the one in back." Athrun said quietly, analyzing the relative skill of both enemies, as far as he could tell from the video.

"Yeah… wish I could see what machines they were in." Kira murmered back. Everyone kept their eyes glued to the screen as the two approaching enemies grew closer and more defined by the second. "Wait a minute…" Kira said, his voice distressed. A few seconds later, everyone else saw what was upsetting him. Not only was the lead MS a new model, but the lagging one was a new one too. Well, new to the Earth Forces armory anyway. Kira and everyone else from the Eternal, Archangel or Kusanagi stared, dumbfounded, eyes bugging from their heads.

"That… that's YOUR mobile suit." Ysak said uncertainly, glancing at Kira. "Isn't it?"

"That's the Freedom all right… or a Freedom anyway. Mine was a pile of molten scrap after GENESIS." Kira whispered.

"Who the hell built another one? Nobody but the PLANTS had the plans for that thing." Athrun protested. "And it's plainly not of the PLANTS, since it's attacking them."

"While you're asking that, you might as well ask how the Earth Forces acquired the N-Jammer Canceler." Lacus put in somberly. "That disk that Rau had Flay take to the Dominion probably had more than just the N-Jammer Canceler schematics on it."

"That's a good point." Athrun allowed. "The N-Jammers were an integral part of the Justice and Freedom. Rau had access to their technical files, of course."

"What the heck are you guys talking about?" Alkire asked. "You know that mobile suit?"

"It's the same class as the one I used to pilot, before the war ended." Kira explained. "I thought it was unique. But apparently the Earth Forces have copied it."

"What about the other one?" Victor said, pointing at the leading MS, which was smaller, thinner and much more angular looking than the Freedom. It had a dark green and crimson splotched paint scheme, looking like blood on dark grass.

"Never seen it before. Doesn't look like any known ZAFT or Earth Forces machine." Athrun replied. Everyone watched as the Freedom decelerated, letting the new model continue ahead alone. "That's nuts… keeping the Freedom out of the fight. It has the firepower to take out the entire checkpoint by itself."

"Maybe the pilot doesn't have the confidence to engage by himself." Ysak said with a smirk. "You noted how he seemed to be of lesser skill than the guy piloting the new model."

"That's crazy too… why wouldn't you put your best pilot in the Freedom? I think Kira well demonstrated during the war what a skilled pilot is capable of doing in that class of mobile suit." Cagalli added. As she did so the new model's speed suddenly increased dramatically. It charged towards the oncoming Ginn's almost faster than the camera could track it. Twin slabs of greenish energy sprung from its fists, while smaller spikes of green energy sprung from the spikes on its arms and legs.

"Strange looking beam swords." Dearka commented. Strange though they were, they proved just as effective as normal, as the new machine cut through the Ginns like they were so much trash. In a matter of seconds all were nothing more than molten slag. The machine then turned on the warship. Beam tipped grapples shot from its arms and legs, punching through the warships armored hull with ease, pulling the new machine towards it at high speed. The warship attempted to intercept the onrushing killer, but couldn't track its guns fast enough. The new machine made contact with the ships hull and quickly took the ship apart using its beam sabers to cut large sections of the hull off. The whole process took less than a minute.

"He's enjoying his attack." Alkire noted with narrowed eyes. "If he wanted to destroy the warship, he could have hit the engine room and it would have gone up in seconds. Instead he wasted time with those horrific yet time consuming attacks on the living quarters, medical section and bridge." The scene cut from the destroyed warship and Ginns back to the PLANT. There were many fewer ZAFT mobile suits in operation and scrapped and crippled warships floated in all directions.

"Woah! What the hell happened? It's been like five minutes since they cut to the previous footage. No way ZAFT could have gotten wrecked that bad since then, could it?" James sputtered. Before anyone could answer, the view jumped again, this time to the outer surface of the PLANT itself. A team of five Ginns floated in close formation, weapons raised. Standing on the hull of the PLANT less than a hundred meters away was the new Earth Forces machine. As one, the Ginns opened fire, spitting a storm of tracers at the machine. As people around the world and on the PLANTS watched, dumbfounded, the Earth Forces machine seemed to blur, weaving its way through the storm of bullets like a dancer, taking only glancing hits to the outer limbs as it rocketed towards the Ginns.

"That's way too familiar looking." Dearka said, his voice sick. The enemy machine reached the knot of Ginns and green fire flashed, too fast for the eye to follow. Five Ginns exploded. The new machine paused and everyone could almost hear the laughter of the pilot as he exulted in the kill. Seconds later, they could hear the laughter, as the enemy pilot hacked into the news feed.

"So too will all the space monsters suffer and die." Frost's chilling voice hissed from the speakers. All the girls collectively shuddered. "No one can stand against the Fury." Frost announced with obvious pride.

"This is the guy I shot in the chest?" Alkire said. Kira nodded. "That's bad." Alkire said shortly. Nobody disagreed. The Fury turned and returned to the hull of the PLANT.

"What's he think he's doing?" Alkire wondered.

"Nothing good." Vladimir said with feeling. "He's a beast. Nothing he wants to do can be good."

-------------------------------------

"Eat vacuum, monsters. For the preservation of our blue and pure world…" Frost intoned. Coordinators everywhere shivered slightly. The Blue Cosmos mantra was bad enough when shouted by machine gun wielding thugs. Hearing it whispered, almost lovingly and with dreadful sincerety by the pilot of the Fury was to hear a death sentence pronounced upon you.

"No!" Athrun cried, hand reaching helplessly towards the screen. Frost ignited his wide bladed beam sabers and stabbed both to their hilts in the hull of the colony. He then dragged his swords downward, cutting parallel lines through the outer surface of the PLANT in a several kilometer long cut. The hull material between the cut lines peeled outward as if it was under a can opener, from the air rushing to get out. Frost reached the bottom of the PLANT and started to cut his way in through the bottom.

"Wasted effort. The PLANT is too big to explosively decompress from such a relatively minor breach. It'll take several hours for all the air to escape from that cut." Victor said disgustedly. "It's a great way to inflict terror, but not much else."

"No… it's worse than that." Vlad argued. "Blue Cosmos has known the layout of the PLANTs for a long time. They know where all the emergency shelters are located. That madman is going to destroy the shelters."

"Still, one mobile suit won't be able to do that much. There's thousands of shelters." Victor retorted. Vlad shook his head.

"Destroying them all isn't the point. The shelters are connected to the news just like we are. They'll see other shelters being destroyed. The panic will be intensified manifold. The colony won't be destroyed, true, but the damage will be intense nonetheless. The image of an Earth Forces machine hunting down helpless Coordinators will provide the killing blow to the peace talks. Worse, the images of that Fury wiping out the Ginns and warships will prompt the development of newer, deadlier weapons to combat it." Vlad shot back. "Of course, picking Junius Six, the next closest colony to the former Junius Seven, was no accident either. It's a double kick in the balls, right?" he asked the Coordinators present.

"Yes." Athrun confirmed in a small voice. Cagalli looked at her fiancée in concern. Athrun had bad memories of Junius Seven. Well, most Coordinators did, but Athrun's mom had been on it when it was destroyed.

"But will the people of the Earth condone this attack? I don't think so. It seems to me that this is just another ill considered Blue Cosmos rampage." Lacus interjected.

"They're moving without a solid base of public support. This horrific act won't garner any support from the world, but will more likely turn the Earth Forces against them, along with the PLANTS."

"Yes, that does seem strange. Blue Cosmos doesn't require a reason for its acts, but it frequently creates one anyway, to prevent world opinion from swaying against them. They can hardly claim that the PLANTS have attacked the Earth." Alkire mused. As if summoned by his words, the vid-screen changed views.

"This just in… Zaft mobile suits are attacking the Atlantic Federation Fleet base at Pearl Harbor." The announcer cried. Everyone spun back to face the screen. The view showed the middle of Pearl Harbor, with dozens of frigates, destroyers and several carriers moored at various docks and piers. Explosions dotted the harbor area and dark plumes of smoke soared high into the air from where a pair of unfamiliar mobile suits waded through the wreckage towards the center of the Fleet base. Strike daggers, tanks and jets scrambled to intercept them, or even to slow down their advance, but all were blown away as soon as they got within a few hundred meters by the arsenal of weapons both mobile suits mounted.

"Damn, that thing's big." Dearka commented, staring at one of the mobile suits. It stood next to a strike dagger and everyone gasped. It was nearly twice as big as the mass produced Earth Forces MS. And it carried far more than twice the amount of weapons. Large bore cannons were held in each hand, while deadly looking gatling cannon projected from the shoulders and bulky missile packs sprouted from the legs. Six beam cannons were mounted in two rows of three on the chest and two massive missiles rode in vertical launch assemblies on its back.

"That's no ZAFT mobile suit." Ysak said with a sniff of disdain. "That thing is so slow a ZAFT pilot would be embarrassed to pilot it. It makes a Zaoot look graceful."

"Problem is, it also makes a Zaoot look puny." Dearka muttered. As everyone watched the giant MS cut loose with a barrage of missiles and cannon fire, leveling several acres of base structures and vehicles in less than a second. The second MS was more normal sized, and was less heavily armed, but was still managing to wreak a lot of havoc, because it was still far better armed than any strike dagger could hope to be. It concentrated on warding the giant's back and sides, making sure no one could get close.

"What the hell are they trying to pull? Its like with the colony, two mobile suits may be able to cause a lot of damage, but theres no way they can be victorious. Eventually the Earth Forces are going to get organized, and then they'll surround them and use numbers to take them down. It'll be costly, but the Earth Forces will be the winners." Alkire said with a frown.

"What kind of missiles are those?" Vlad asked Victor quietly.

"Which?"

"The two big ones on the giants back."

"They look sort of familiar, but I can't place them. They remind me of the bunker busters the Ginn's sometimes carried, but these are bigger." Victor said, peering closer. His mouth dropped open and his hands started trembling. "Ysak… or one of you Coordinators with good eyesight, come here and tell me that's not what I'm afraid it is." Victor said in a whisper. Ysak darted over and stared at where Victor was pointing.

"FUCK!" Ysak shouted. "THAT'S A FUCKING NUKE!"

"WHAT?" Kira, Athrun, Dearka and Lacus chorused. Before anyone could move further, both missiles launched from the back of the giant and roared into the sky. The giant and its aide started to retreat, sowing death as they walked backwards.

"Pearl Harbor is about thirty miles from here; as the bird flies… will the nukes in those missiles have the punch to hurt us here?" Alkire asked Victor. Victor shrugged.

"If they put a couple megatons in them, sure, easy. Anywhere at about ten megatons and up, you'd probably feel the shockwave around the world. Course, Pearl Harbor and most of the surrounding five miles would be nothing but a blast crater then, and that giant MS and its buddy'd be part of the cloud of radioactive smoke, so I doubt it's that powerful. It's more likely that they're tactical nukes. Point five to five kilotons, maybe multiple warheads. Figure a blast radius of around a kilometer, shockwave and fire damage out to triple that. Out here we'll get to see a nice light show, experience an ungodly amount of wind, and get to watch the plumes of smoke turn into a spectacular mushroom cloud. That's it though. Oh, and maybe a tsunami, if enough of the explosion happens in the harbor proper." Victor reported after a few moments thought.

"What about the people at the fleet base and the city of Pearl Harbor?" Kira asked. Victor shrugged again, this time dispiritedly.

"I'm figuring close to fifty to sixty percent blast casualties, considering its lunch hour. Maybe another twenty percent collateral casualties and who knows what sort of damage from radiation. A good three quarters of everybody within the shockwave radius is going to be dead in a few minutes." Victor told everyone.

"You seem pretty calm." Dearka noted. "It doesn't bother you to talk about all those helpless people like they're nothing but percentages and figures?"

"Hey, I'm not happy, kid. But explosions and their effects are my job. I don't consider it very professional to let how I'm feeling bleed through into work, and this is definitely work. Besides, you're hardly one to talk. All you MS pilots ever see is the enemy machine. You never have to actually see the people you're killing, don't have to look them in the eye when you pull the trigger or press the switch. After you've done that a few times, maybe then I'll let you criticize me." Victor snarled. Dearka held up his hands placatingly.

"Is there nothing we can do to help?" Kira asked, his fists clenched.

"No." Alkire said decisively. "We can get revenge, that's about it. Even if my jet was nearby, by the time I finished the preflight, those nukes will have hit their targets. We'd only put ourselves in danger of crashing in the winds caused by the explosions. And your mobile suits are in Orb, which means they are as close to impossible to get as can be."

"So we can do nothing but pray?" Lacus said. Alkire nodded, his eyes blazing.

"Who would do this? ZAFT?" Cagalli asked into the silence.

"Hardly. The civilians would murder us all in our beds if we initiated an unprovoked nuclear attack on Earth." Ysak declared.

"Probably Blue Cosmos again. Not too surprising, though nuking their own side is a bit much, even for them." Raine sighed. "They've got their excuse. Nobody will criticize them for retaliating after an unprovoked nuclear attack. I think the war just got started again and worse this time." It was at this time that two streaks of light barely identifiable to the Coordinators present as the two missiles shot down from the heavens back into the view of the camera.

"Oh…" the cameraman and reporter on scene were heard to mutter before the entire screen flashed blinding white before turning to static and then black as Alkire turned it off. Nothing happened for a minute or two, leaving everyone to look around in puzzlement and hope. However, the faint ray of hope was soon extinguished when the ground trembled slightly all around them.

"There's the concussion wave." Victor noted dryly. No one said anything as the tremors continued for several more minutes before dying away. "It should be safe now, if we want to go topside. Nukes that small, the radiation will be confined mostly to the blast area." Without a word, everyone hurried for the stairs up and out of the bunker complex. Ysak was first up the stairs.

"Oh… man…" he gasped, staring at the double mushroom cloud that glowed brilliant pink and orange and grey on the horizon. That entire section of sky was tinted orange and red from all the vaporized dust swirling through the air. As people came out behind Ysak they each responded in their own way. Alkire and the members of TEMPEST murmured curses under their breath at the awful sight, while Lacus, Miriallia, Chanel and Katie were quick to shed tears for all those lost. Athrun and Cagalli looked grim and squeezed hands, while Kira stood as still as a statue. Dearka tried to comfort Mir, but was struggling not to weep himself. He remembered Junius Seven as well as any Coordinator. Any Coordinator that didn't cry or feel horrible at seeing a nuclear attack had something wrong with them, in his opinion. Hell, anyone that didn't feel a twinge of fear when seeing a mushroom cloud was a little crazy, in his opinion, Natural or Coordinator.


	20. Tour of the Ruins part 1

"That'll light a fire under their asses." Cervantes commented smugly to Asmodeus. He stood in a private observation dome in Gypsy City, on the Earth's moon. Gypsy City was a center of lunar industry and commerce, on the far side of the moon from the Ptolmeus crater and destroyed Earth Alliance space fleet headquarters. Naturally, Cosmos Manufucturers had many interests and subcompanies situated there. Cervantes had nominally come up on the biannual inspection tour, but in reality he was enjoying watching his plan to restart the war between the PLANTS and the Earth come to fruition.

"Which side do you refer to?" Asmodeus asked, swirling his drink as he stared at images from Junius Six on several large view screens situated below the observation screens of the dome. He was still sweating slightly, from the effort of piloting the Purifier first to the ZAFT defense line, then into battle against ZAFT forces, which had been tough, if supremely satisfying, and then finally back to the moon after Frost entered the colony. The view screens showed several views from ZAFT news and military channels, showing teams of Ginns and Cgue's slowly searching through the ruins of the cities and towns inside Junius Six for the Fury. Several of the screens were live feeds from the Fury's own external cameras. Currently Frost was amusing himself by playing hide and stalk with several Ginns in a ruined former factory district. Frost was slowly killing them off one by one, disabling the machines and dragging them off to the center of the factory, where he left the pilots trapped in their inert machines, all piled together.

"Both sides of course. Neither side will tolerate an "unprovoked" attack of this level. There is no doubt in their minds that each side attacked the other in horrific fashion, completely without warning. I don't doubt the PLANTS will be making a rather fiery announcement in an hour or two. I'll have to get on the line to the President soon, to give him some friendly advice and our complete support in this tragic situation." Cervantes started chuckling uncontrollably. His humor slowly built into a full throated laugh that left him gasping for breath. "God, I feel like a child again."

"Don't get too distracted by amusement, sir. We still have a long way to go with JIHAD before we can relax." Asmodeus warned. Cervantes calmed and took a drink from his own cup.

"Of course, of course, Captain. You are right, of course. Tell me, how do you rate Frost and the Fury?" Cervantes asked, studying the screens himself.

"He's as effective as I was told he would be. I wouldn't put him in the battle line with other soldiers, but as a weapon of terror, he's scarier than a nuclear missile, by far. Are you sure we can control him? If he went rogue…" Asmodeus said, trailing off with a shiver.

"The damage would be tremendous, yes. But we have sufficient control over him for now. We let him do what he wants to do, and the bomb on the Fury can eliminate him at any time. He'll remain loyal, for the moment. And later on, he'll be far too busy to worry about turning on us. I intend to push him to his limit." Cervantes promised. "And the Purifier, how was it to pilot a mobile suit in battle?"

"A dream come true, sir. There's no describing the feeling of power I felt when I was in that pilot's seat. The Purifier is an amazing weapon. I can see why the Calamity, Forbidden and Raider had such trouble with it. If a pilot of more than my middling skill were to pilot it, it would be fearsome indeed." Asmodeus replied, his voice awed.

"As fearsome as Frost and the Fury?" Cervantes asked guardedly.

"… No. But nearly. The multiple target system…"

"I understand. We borrowed that for the Fury, Bane and Merciless as well. The ability to engage entire enemy units at once is highly useful. I'm glad you enjoyed the mission. If you wish, you may keep that Purifier as your own personal transport. The second one is nearly finished, and after that the factory will be cranking one out every two weeks or so."

"Thank you, sir, I will. Have the Bane and the Merciless returned safely?" Asmodeus asked. Cervantes touched a control and one of the screens switched to a data flow.

"Yes. No damage, to either. Lieutenant Thresher is ecstatic at the destructive potential of the Merciless." Cervantes informed his friend.

"What about Ashino? He's the sanest of the three, what did he report?"

"Ashino hasn't said much. He might be the sanest of the three, but he's still not sane. He withdraws into himself after every battle; he's done it since he reached BCPU level four. He'll be uncommunicative for the next several hours or days, depending."

"Well, the opening operations seem to have been successful, sir. You have my congratulations."

"Yes… but its time to move on, you're right. I have to go off and talk to that worthless president. It'd be so much easier if I was president."

"No, sir. You know I won't let you assassinate the president."

"Of course, I was just joking… I'm fully aware of how far you'll go, Asmodeus." Cervantes said, shrugging the subject off. "How is my soon to be son in law?"

"Sai was in Pearl Harbor during the attack… an unforeseen trip. He is, however, unharmed. Shaken, angry and frightened, but unharmed. My sources say…" Asmodeus paused to call up a data screen of his own. "He was in our Pearl Harbor offices, in the executive spaces. That building was outside the destructive radius of the blasts. Some windows were broken and several people were temporarily blinded, but that's it. Sai helped carry wounded victims from out of the blast area until the authorities arrived… which was about five minutes ago. He is currently waiting for transport through the blast area so he can return to your island, sir. I have ten of my best soldiers watching him and protecting him at all times." Asmodeus replied.

"That's a relief. Vanai would be devastated if anything happened to him."

"Nothing will touch him, sir. But he's not fitting in too well with Blue Cosmos. He's not a true believer yet. He prefers the idea of just kicking the Coordinators off Earth and forgetting about them, rather than getting rid of them all together."

"He'll change his opinion after a few ZAFT attacks. Everyone is always more conciliatory towards the start of a conflict. Let a few cities be nuked… a few colonies be destroyed… then we'll hear much less talk of agreements and compromises and much more of vengeance and extermination. That's how the last war would have been, if a small band of Coordinators and Coordinator lovers hadn't interfered." Cervantes said with certainty. "When is the wedding?"

"Three months from now. I felt it was best to wait until after the initial salvos, for things to calm down a bit. Then, you can use the wedding as a boost to morale when the initial surge of anger starts to fade." Asmodeus reported. Cervantes smiled.

"As usual, my friend, you are considering every possible angle."

"It is what you pay me for, sir."

"Among other things." Cervantes said leadingly. Asmodeus looked at his boss expectantly.

"Yes, sir?" he asked quietly. "You have need of field work, then?"

"Yes, of the kind you did both before and during the last war. You know that group that has been striking at our training facilities? I want them hunted down and wiped out. The cover of the war should keep your efforts from being noticed." Cervantes ordered. Asmodeus nodded and then looked closely at the other man.

"That… seems a little… pointless, sir. Why hunt them down now? There is no way they can…" Asmodeus began.

"No way such a small group can be a threat to JIHAD and the war? What about last time? All it took were three half manned ships and a handful of children to bring the last war to a premature close." Cervantes countered grimly. "No, something bothers me about an elite group waiting out in the night, gunning for me and Blue Cosmos. I want them taken out before they show up at the wrong moment. Or worse, what if such a group were to stumble upon the JIHAD facility itself? They were active in the Andes before. A few tons of explosives could bring my dream crashing in flaming ruin."

"Of course sir. What are my resources and timeframe?"

"Take whatever you need. If you need to requisition anything bigger than an Agamemnon Class, please at least tell me." Cervantes said with a hint of sarcasm. "Do it as soon as possible."

Asmodeus saluted. "Yes, sir." He said as he quickly walked from the room. When Cervantes wanted something done as soon as possible, it meant he'd be asking in a few days time if it was done or not. Not much time to put an operation together, considering Asmodeus didn't even know where the enemy was. But that kind of pressure was what made the job fun.

---------------------------------------

"The damage doesn't look so bad." Chanel commented as she looked out the window of Alkire's jet as it circled the blast area. "Most of the buildings are still standing."

"What were you expecting? A meteor crater?" Victor said with a snort. "Explosions aren't that destructive, despite what many believe. Much of the force of the blast is wasted because there is plenty of room for the gas and heat to expand into. Plus these were baby nukes, designed for planetary battlefield use, not strategic destruction. If one of the missiles that they used on Boaz had landed here, there wouldn't be much left but rubble and ash."

"It's bad enough as it is." Kira said icily. Victor nodded his head, unable to argue. What Chanel had said was true. Most buildings, except those in immediate proximity to where the missiles had landed were still standing. Of course, standing was all they were. No glass remained in their windows and Victor knew that if you went inside them all you would find would be ash, rubble and corpses burned almost unidentifiable. In the buildings closest to the blast area there would be humanoid shaped pale areas on walls, where people's shadows had blocked the intense light and heat enough to spare the wall some damage. In buildings farther away you'd find less burn damage but more shockwave damage. Glass windows would have turned into clouds of half molten glass splinters in an instant, propelled inwards with the force of bullets. Most people probably never knew what hit them. Bringing the bodies out of those buildings would not be easy or fun.

"Why would someone do this?" Lacus asked for perhaps the sixth time. Nobody was able to answer her. Nobody could think of a justification for this sort of attack.

"To provoke a war even greater than the last one." Alkire said tightly over the intercom. "The news videos of this are going to ignite the population of the Earth. Even diehard pacifists will be joining the military to get even for this "ZAFT sneak attack". There'll be widespread panic among the civilian population, a call to action that will allow the people behind this monstrosity to do what they want to do… wipe out the Coordinators, to the last man, woman and child."

"And the same thing will be happening in the PLANTS. They can't exactly ignore the attack on Junius Six. The footage of Frost tearing through the defense fleet will make many Coordinators nervous. They'll demand an equal or preferably greater force be created to defend against further attacks. And when you have that sort of power lying around, it's only a matter of time before it's used for offense, no matter what it was originally intended for. Just look at GENESIS… a propulsion source used as a weapon of mass destruction." Raine added.

"Can we stop talking about the implications? I think we all get it! This is bad; the war's going to start up again! We all know that. We should be thinking about what we're going to do in response!" Athrun said with a hint of anger.

"Hit back, of course." Ysak replied with more than a hint of irritation himself.

"Hit who back?" Cagalli said witheringly. "ZAFT thinks the Earth Forces attacked them without warning and the Earth thinks they were attacked by ZAFT without warning. Who do we hit?"

"Blue Cosmos." Katie answered. "They're behind it all, right?"

"Yes, but how do we separate Blue Cosmos from the Earth Forces?" Lacus countered. "If we just attack the Earth Forces in general, that won't help the problem."

"We can help you with target selection. We've been hitting Blue Cosmos specific targets for a while now." Victor said. "But enough about the future, I think we've got plenty to worry about in the present, right, Alkire?"

"True, Victor… for instance, I think I found a place to land… everyone hang on, it might be a little bumpy." Alkire responded, as the plane started to descend. Sai, below in the city, looked up as the plane roared by overhead.

-------------------------------------------

"I wonder what that plane thinks its doing?" Sai said to no one in particular.

"Landing, sir." A voice said from close by. Sai jumped, having thought he was alone. Standing a few paces behind him was a man dressed in urban camouflage clothing and battle paint, holding a wicked looking assault rifle in his hands.

"Who the…" Sai began, stepping back in surprise.

"I work for Captain Sark. You might say I'm part of the CWM security force. The same goes for my men." The man replied casually. Sai looked around warily; he didn't see anyone else nearby. The security man chuckled quietly. "Please, give us some credit sir, if you could spot my men, what good would we be?"

"Okay… I guess I understand. I just didn't know I'd been assigned bodyguards, that's all." Sai replied. The security man shrugged slightly.

"If it hadn't been for this attack, you still wouldn't know. I find the best way to protect someone is for them to not even know they are being protected. Invariably the client always gives the guards away when he knows they are around, which makes their job exponentially harder. But in the wake of a nuclear attack, I figured that your present safety takes precedence over the future. My men are currently searching out transportation to get you to the nearest functioning airport, so we can get you home to your lovely wife."

"Um… thanks. Er… what's your name, so I can thank you properly?" Sai asked. The security man glanced at him with distant eyes. Sai shivered slightly, this man creeped him out just a little bit.

"You may address me as Lieutenant. My name is of no importance to you." The man replied.

"Well… thank you, Lieutenant, for your help." Sai managed.

"No problem sir, it's what I do." The Lieutenant said and then touched his ear, which held a very tiny communication device no doubt. "My men have located a vehicle. Please, come this way, sir." Sai followed the Lieutenant down the rubble strewn street. He kept looking out of the corners of his eyes, hoping to spot the other men in the security force, but he never could manage to see more than a hint of movement. The Lieutenant muttered orders constantly, so low Sai couldn't make anything out, though he assumed the Lieutenant was having his men flank them and check out the buildings and wreckage to either side as they moved. After about ten minutes of careful walking, the Lieutenant held up his closed left fist. Even Sai knew that meant "halt", so he did. "Here's the vehicle." The Lieutenant said, with a flick of his head. Sai looked in the indicated direction.

"You mean that jeep with the roll cage?" Sai asked, a bit confused.

"Yes… it has the capabilities we might need to get you to the airport. Please climb into the back center passenger seat, sir."

"Okay…" Sai did as ordered, climbing into the old jeep and looking around. Three more men dressed in urban camouflage fatigues had appeared from nowhere while he had been getting into the jeep. All were armed similarly to the Lieutenant. _Jeez… Cervantes must take security pretty seriously… these guys aren't joking around. Who knows how many more are still out there. Hey… wait a minute…these guys probably guard me around the clock…that means…_ "Hey, Lieutenant!" Sai called. The Lieutenant looked up from the huddle he was having with his men.

"Yes, sir?"

"Just how long have you been guarding me?"

"Ever since you proposed to Mr. Zunnichi's daughter."

"And you guy's guard me around the clock, no matter where I am?"

"That is the idea of having bodyguards, sir. Round the clock protection, indiscriminate of location."

"Does that mean… you have me under observation… even when I'm at home?" Sai asked, getting to what he was uncomfortable about. _I don't like the idea of performing for an audience._

"Of course sir. Threat level actually increases when you're at home, because then potential attackers know exactly where you are and can plan for most eventualities." The Lieutenant paused and gave a very small smile. "We exercise the utmost discretion, sir. You need not fear for your privacy. Even if we did observe anything, we would never tell anyone, it would be a fatal breach of professionalism."

"I don't know if I should feel better or worse." Sai said. The Lieutenant and his men came over and boarded the jeep as well. The Lieutenant was in the front passenger seat, and one of the other men was driving, while the other two squeezed Sai protectively between them.

"It's best if you just try to forget we're around. You'll never see us, so just try not to worry. Now hold on, sir. This ride might get a little rough."

---------------------------------------

"Where are the rescue people?" Dearka asked, looking around the deserted highway just outside the city where Alkire had landed his jet. "You'd think this place would be swamped with military and civilian personnel right now."

"Not necessarily. This isn't just a car bombing or drive by shooting, you know. Two nuclear missiles landed about two miles north of here less than two hours ago, after two unknown mobile suits half destroyed Pearl Harbor fleet base. The military is still probably a little busy manning battle stations and getting reorganized. As for the civilian rescue details… well, most of them are probably dead. It'll take time for rescue elements from other cities and even further away to make an appearance. Give it another four hours and you'll be able to walk from here to the ocean on the heads of rescue workers." Alkire replied.

"So why are we here then?" Ysak asked. Chanel and Katie both kicked him. "What?"

"In four hours many wounded people will have died from their injuries. There may not be many of us, but even rendering basic first aid will save many people's lives. So that's what we're going to do. We may not be able to save even a small fraction of the wounded in the city, but does that mean we shouldn't try?" Raine responded, unloading several large white metal boxes with red crosses on them from the back of the jet.

"Of course we'll help." Lacus said determindedly. Kira nodded his willingness as well. Athrun went over and picked up one of the medical supply boxes.

"We'd be able to do more if we split up. Should we just meet up back here in say, three hours or so?" Athrun said.

"I don't like the idea of splitting up." Alkire said immediately.

"Oh, come on. We're all armed and the people around here are hardly going to be in a mental state for violence. Like you said, most are going to be wounded in some manner or other. And given how many wounded there are likely to be, it's not like we'll get more than a few blocks in three hours. We should still be within shouting distance of at least some of the rest of us at all times." Ysak retorted.

"All right, all right, you make sense. I admit it. But you'd better be back at the jet in no more than three and a quarter hours." Alkire ordered. Everyone agreed and split up, each group taking a box of medical supplies. Kira, Lacus, Dearka and Miriallia went together as one group. Cagalli and Athrun went off by themselves, as did Ysak, Chanel and Katie. Raine, Alkire and Vlad formed another group, while Victor and James remained behind to guard the jet.

Kira's group immediately headed into the city. Out near the fringes where they were, the damage wasn't so bad. A few small buildings had collapsed and there was a lot of broken glass and debris lying around, but for the most part the buildings were standing and the streets were clear. Fires burned in some spots, sending plumes of grayish smoke into the air and several cars were overturned at one intersection, not from the blast but from the driver's panicking due to the explosion.

Of course, the area was still devastated and scores of people in various stages of shock or injury lay, sat or walked about. Kira immediately helped an eldery woman sit down; the woman was bleeding from a ragged gash on one arm and above her left eye, but was just wandering aimlessly about. Dearka and Miriallia went into a nearby building, the remains of a small business it looked like and started helping people with glass cuts and a few broken bones make their way out of the lobby and nearby office spaces. Kira left the eldery woman with Lacus and searched out the more seriously wounded people he could see.

Kira had to shut his eyes at times, to avoid looking at the bodies and parts of bodies that were scattered here and there in the ruined buildings and near the wrecked cars. Some body parts were charred almost skeletal and must have been thrown here from much closer to the blast area. Most injuries consisted of cuts or gashes from flying glass or debris, or broken bones from being knocked around by the concussion wave. The more serious cases consisted of two compound thigh fractures, which required most of Lacus's attention, several amputated fingers, an amputated ear, and the worst case, a man who had caught a face full of molten glass, which blinded him and covered more than half his face in third degree burns.

"These poor people." Lacus sobbed. Kira put an arm on her shoulder to comfort her and tried to stifle his own emotions. _How can people fight wars when this is the result? Why do weapons like nuclear missiles even exist?"_ "How could they do this? How could they do this to their own people?" Lacus asked through her tears.

"They want to do this to our people. That's all that matters to them. So they did this to make people angry and willing to do what they want." Kira said, clenching his fists in anger of his own.

"That doesn't make any sense. Can't they see how crazy that is?" Lacus complained.

"They can't. That's the problem. Their hate and fear blinds them so much that they can't see even something as obvious as that." Kira replied. Dearka and Miriallia came over then.

"Why don't you and Lacus go out and do some searching and leave the tending to Mir and I for the moment." Dearka suggested. "We're bushed. Going through those ruined buildings takes a lot out of you."

"Physically and emotionally." Mir added tiredly. "Those poor people… a lot of them never knew what hit them. We… we searched through a collapsed day care center… it… was…"

"Shh. It's okay." Dearka said, interrupting her as he pulled her into a tight embrace. He looked at Kira. "You should be careful. We stumbled into a few bad sights, if you know what I mean. And some of these buildings are only standing by a little bit. I saw several stairways collapse just as I walked by."

"Okay. Thanks for the tip." Kira said, as he and Lacus headed in the opposite direction Dearka and Mir had just come from. For a block or so there were no buildings that looked even remotely safe to enter, so Kira and Lacus stuck to the street. They had just reached another intersection when the noise of a car engine caused Kira to halt. "Someone's coming." He told Lacus. Some sixth sense told Kira to get off the street, so he did, pulling Lacus into a partly collapsed convenience store.

"What?" Lacus breathed into his ear.

"A bad feeling." Kira replied. He watched the intersection carefully. The car noise drew steadily closer. As it did so, several nearby civilians noticed and ran towards the intersection.

"Hey… a car, a car!" one shouted.

"Stop! Stop, please!" another cried.

"I'm hurt! Please take me to a hospital!" a third yelled, holding up a heavily bandaged arm that had red stains all over it. Kira's bad feeling got about ten times worse, as the car noise dropped off very suddenly, likely because the car had slowed to a walk. Kira looked expectantly at the intersection, as did Lacus. They were so intent on the people outside Kira didn't notice the back door to the store opening until the man in urban camouflage was completely past the threshold. Kira spun as the man brought up his wicked looking assault rifle. Lacus screamed as the man opened up with a short burst of automatic fire that shredded the shelving around them. Kira dived on top of her and crushed them both flat to the floor.

"Two civilian kids. They're in the store on your right." Kira heard the man whisper very quietly. "They're still alive. I just warned them. How should I proceed?" the soldier continued, obviously talking to someone through a communication device. "It's just the kids, the rest of the place is clear." The soldier paused a moment. "Yes, sir." He said respectfully. "Okay, kids, sorry for the scare there." The soldier said in a normal voice. "There's an important person being evactuated past here and we're all a little jumpy. You two just stay right where you are until the jeep passes and we'll have no problems."

"Why the hell did you shoot at us?" Kira asked firmly.

"Like I said, we're all a little jumpy. This place just got nuked ya know. The damn PLANTS sent some of their new MS models down to tear up the fleet base. They did a damn good job of it too, damn them. There's not much left of the pacific fleet. And then they nuked the city, just like those monsters have always wanted to do." The man replied evenly.

"Why would they want to nuke a city? They know what that's like. Why would they want to do that to us?" Lacus asked, trying to circumspectly point out the error in the soldier's thinking. The man laughed, from his position by the rear door.

"Why do the damn Coordinators do anything? They're genocidal war maniacs, that's why. Space monsters." He replied with more than a hint of bitterness.

"That's not true!" Lacus couldn't help but blurt out. The soldier's laugh took on a grim tone.

"Isn't it? You two probably don't know much about it, but the PLANTS used a weapon called GENESIS to wipe out the Ptolemais Lunar Base. They were going to fire it at Earth, to kill everyone, but it was blown up before they could." The soldier replied. Kira heard him moving toward the front of the store and he clamped a hand over Lacus's mouth to keep her from replying and possibly getting the soldier angry. The man was plainly an adherent of the Blue Cosmos philosophy. "Smokes… don't mind if I do." The soldier said lightly. Kira could just barely make out the man reach over the counter and rummage around in the tobacco cabinent. "Not like the storekeeper's ever gonna smoke again, with that wound."

"What storekeeper?" Kira asked.

"The dead guy with half his head missing behind the counter here. Looks like he was facing away from the blast wave that threw the cash register into his skull. Messy. You shouldn't look at it." The soldier replied calmly, like seeing a horribly dead man lying on the ground was nothing strange. There came a clicking noise and the smell of smoke. "Ah, that tastes good." The soldier commented to nobody. He stared out at the intersection. "Damn civilians are gonna get killed if they don't get out of the way."

"The people outside?" Kira asked. "But they're just trying to get help."

"They should get it elsewhere. The jeep doesn't have time for them." The soldier said flatly.

"Hey! Stop! My brother needs help! Stop!" one of the civilians outside yelled.

"Fool." The soldier said contemptuously. A single gunshot sounded from outside. The civilian stopped yelling. Lacus started to breathe much quicker, beginning to panic. Kira patted her back to calm her down.

"Did… did the people in the jeep…" Kira started to say.

"Don't ask me that. I don't wanna have to silence you kids." The soldier warned. Kira shut up, given all the answer he needed. The soldier waited about a half minute more. "All right, we're clear. I'm going now. You kids stay safe. You should head home, stay indoors until the authorities arrive. And if you're real smart, you'll forget everything about the jeep and me." The soldier said, moving back out the rear door and disappearing into the city. Kira wasted no time in jumping up and heading out the front door of the store. One of the civilians was lying in the middle of the street, a gaping bullet wound in his neck. Blood coated the street around the obviously dead man. The other two civilians were nowhere to be seen. Kira looked around. He could make out the jeep, which was painted black and looked extremely battered as it turned at the next intersection up the road, farther away from Dearka and Miriallia, thankfully. Kira's jaw dropped. He knew who the passenger in the jeep was, even though he was seated between two more soldiers in the urban camouflage.

"Sai…?" Kira gasped. It was unmistakably his friend though. He was even wearing his signature orange tinted sunglasses. Kira opened his mouth to shout but quickly thought better of it. The soldiers didn't seem to be afraid of killing people who just got in their way. And the way the soldier in the store had talked, they wanted to go unnoticed. If Kira called out to Sai, he'd be noticing them in a big way. "What is Sai doing here?" Kira mumbled before going back into the store to help Lacus.


	21. Tour of the Ruins part 2

"This reminds me of Orb during the Earth Alliance invasion." Cagalli said as she and Athrun forged ever deeper into the city. They were moving building to building, reasoning that the people most seriously injured were likely to be trapped in the buildings, not walking around on the street outside. So far they hadn't found many wounded people. The people they had found were so obviously dead that neither Cagalli nor Athrun even stopped for a moment. People missing both arms or with a wooden spar through their chest didn't need first aid, they needed funerals.

"Except that in Orb, there were few civilian casualties." Athrun said grimly, wiping at some dried blood that had seeped out from under a collapsed wall. Yet another person that wouldn't need saving. "Watch the stairs; I don't think they're very safe."

Cagalli picked up a chair and pushed it down the stairs. True to Athrun's prediction, the stairway collapsed after the first few steps down. "I love how perceptive you are." She commented with a small smile. Athrun finished searching the room with both eyes and ears.

"There aren't any more people in this building. We should move on to the next one." He decided.

"How? The stairs down are gone and we got into this building from that fire escape that you said we should avoid like the plague from now on." Cagalli countered. Athrun thought for a moment.

"Let's try the roof. Maybe we can jump across to the next building or find another fire escape. The stairs going up look pretty sturdy." Athrun said, demonstrating his faith as he walked slowly and carefully up the staircase. The roof was barren and flat. Cagalli moved over to the edge and looked down at the seven story drop.

"Yeck. I hope the other buildings are close. A fall from this height wouldn't be fun at all." She commented.

"Depends on your definition of close." Athrun replied. "The closest building is about eight feet away, with a ten foot drop in height."

"I hope we find the people that did this." Cagalli said as she made her way over to her love. "I'm gonna tear them apart."

"You'll have to wait in line, dear. I'm going to get there first and Kira won't be far behind. You can have what's left over after that." Athrun replied. "Though I'm not sure what good we can do, right now anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well… I was thinking we should go get our Mobile Suits. If we had those, we might be actually able to do something to prevent something like this from happening again, rather than just search through the ruins for survivors."

"Problem being, that you and I are persona non grata in Orb right now." Cagalli said. Athrun nodded. "I agree with you though. If we could get you and Kira into even a few Astrays, we'd be able to do a lot more to rectify the problems we're in."

"I also want to find out what happened to the Archangel, Eternal and Kusanagi. I forgot to ask Commander Waltfeld when he visited us in Switzerland. I hate to say it, but it looks like we'll be needing to get the three ship alliance together again."

"The Kusanagi is patrolling Orb's space territory while undergoing refit and rest rotation. Kisaka told me that much in the reports he used to send to me. But he never mentioned anything about the Eternal or the Archangel, probably because he feared our communication lines weren't secure enough." Cagalli replied. She looked at the roof of the nearest building. It looked like a lot more than eight feet across. "How am I going to cross this?" she wondered out loud.

"I could carry you…" Athrun began. Cagalli shook her head. "What? You're not very heavy and I can jump a lot farther than eight feet with this much room for a running start." Athrun protested.

"Thanks, but I think I can make it on my own. I don't need you to carry me everywhere." Cagalli told him. "Besides, what if you tripped when you landed? Where would I be then?"

"On the other roof… in my arms… safe and sound." Athrun remarked. Cagalli brushed that off with a flick of her head. Athrun frowned. "This doesn't have anything to do with you being uncomfortable about physical contact…"

"NO!"

"Alright, alright." Athrun held up his hands placatingly. "How about we make the jump together then?"

"… Fine. Together. But you'd better not help me. I want to do this on my own." Cagalli warned him.

"What's with the independence obsession all of a sudden? You never minded my help before."

Cagalli sighed. "Look, just let me do this by myself. I need the confidence builder. I appreciate the offer for assistance, but I need to start relying more on myself, rather than just taking the easy path and letting you and Kira solve all the hard problems. Its great that you're willing to shoulder the tough jobs for me, but I'm the ruler of Orb damn it! You can't do my job for me. It's like you said back in school, about homework. If you did all my homework for me, sure I'd get good grades and I'd be happy, but when a big test came around I'd be helpless and wouldn't know what to do. And you can't always be around to save the day." Cagalli burst forth. Athrun stared at her.

"This really is more than just a jump to you." He commented. Cagalli nodded tightly. Athrun smiled and without warning took off sprinting towards the edge of the roof. In less than a second he had leapt to the next roof over, landing with legs bent to absorb the shock of the drop. He made it look so effortless and easy that it seemed to Cagalli that he had just flown over to the other roof.

"Athrun!"

"Well, come on then, princess. Now I can't help you. I'm not around, so its time for you to save yourself." Athrun called back. Cagalli looked down at the drop again and got a bit dizzy. When she looked back up Athrun had turned away and was walking towards the rooftop door of the other building.

"Where are you going?" Cagalli demanded.

"I'm going to go look for a way down. Just look for me inside when you get across."

"But what if I can't make it across on my own?" Cagalli protested.

"Shoulda thought of that before you made that little speech, huh?" Athrun taunted with a wide grin. Cagalli clenched a fist in his direction.

"When I get over there I'm going to shove that smile down your throat." She promised. Athrun waved sardonically and entered the roof stairway, closing the door behind him. Cagalli stamped her foot in anger. "Damn it." She studied the drop again. It really did look a lot farther than eight feet across. _Stop thinking about it so much. Just act._ Cagalli told herself. She squared her shoulders and backed up from the roof edge, moving to the far edge of her roof. "All right. It's just a little jump. You used to do this all the time in junior high." Cagalli muttered. _Though that was in a sand pit, without a seven story drop awaiting the short jumper. Gah, stop thinking about that. Distractions are only going to get you killed or hurt at a time like this._

"How could he just leave me up here?" Cagalli asked. "I mean, what if I tripped and broke a leg when I landed? What would I do then?" _You might die up here… no… Athrun would come back and find me. That's a certainty. Calm down. You were the one who asked for this after all. Why all the self doubt? You've piloted mobile suits in battle, and directed a warship in space combat without turning a hair. What's a little jump compared to that? And besides, you hit it right on the head earlier. Kira and Athrun can't take all the load themselves. They have their own problems to face and jobs to accomplish. They can't rule Orb for me. Neither can Kisaka. Of course, I'm not ruling anything if I can't get across this little gap. Right now I'm just queen of this rooftop, for all the good that does me._

Cagalli closed her eyes tight and shook her head, banishing her internal debate. Taking a deep breath she charged towards the roof edge. Horrible images of her flailing as she fell to the hard pavement far below assailed her as she ran, but she forced them back. Fear was okay. It was okay to cry, to be afraid. It just wasn't okay to let that fear rule you, to turn you into a helpless child always waiting for your guardian to come back to save the day. Cagalli reached the edge of the roof and squeezed her eyes tightly shut to avoid looking down and faltering. She pushed off with her right leg and soared into the air. She seemed to hang forever in midair, afraid to open her eyes to look around. She tensed her legs, preparing for the shock of landing. However, with eyes squeezed shut, she had no idea when her feet would hit the other roof. _If they ever would…_

Her feet struck pavement and Cagalli shrieked as she lost her balance and tumbled forward, out of control. She stuck out her hands to break the inevitable tumble and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, not wanting to see the hard ground rushing up to hit her. However, before she could fall more than a few inches forward she met a firm but yielding form that resisted her momentum and held her upright, even as it moved backward to absorb the shock of impact. Cagalli held her breath for several long moments, still waiting for the impact with the ground. When that didn't happen she dared to crack open one eye. A dark green shirt, exactly like the one Athrun had been wearing rustled gently in the rooftop wind less than an inch from her face.

Cagalli slowly opened her other eye and lifted her head, to take in the rest of Athrun, who was holding her securely in his arms. "Nice jump." He said in congratulation. Cagalli slowly cranked her head around and looked behind her. The roof edge was a good five feet behind her. She'd made the jump and then some.

"I… made it by myself…?" Cagalli asked.

"All by yourself. Though it does help to open your eyes when landing." Athrun confirmed.

"But you caught me?"

"I couldn't let you take a fall after making it that far. Besides, you said you didn't want any help with the jump. You never said I couldn't be waiting for you on the other side, ready to offer aid if you should have trouble. I can't do your work for you, but theres no reason I can't help you finish what you start yourself. That's what husbands do for their wives, and friends do for friends." Athrun replied tenderly.

"But I saw you go inside." Cagalli protested.

"If you knew I was waiting for you, then the jump would have been meaningless. But you made the jump even though you fully believed I was nowhere nearby. You accepted all the possible consequences for your action and took it anyway… I'm not even that good all the time."

"But I only did it because you made me angry." Cagalli continued. "I wanted to prove to you that I really could do it. And then I wanted to punch you in the jaw."

"Motivation is motivation, love. If getting you angry enough to make the jump was the only way I could get you to do it, then I have no trouble with provoking you until you cross. Besides, you didn't really want to hit me, do you?" Athrun asked with a smile. Cagalli smiled back.

"Of course not…" she whispered, drawing closer and hiding her balled fist from his view behind her back. Athrun started to lean down for a kiss when she drove her fist solidly into his gut, sending all the air rushing out of his body in surprise. His eyes widened and he started to gasp but Cagalli captured his mouth with her own before he could draw any air in. She stared at his wide eyes, tinged slightly with panic as he tried for air that wasn't to be found as she darted her tounge around his mouth. Air finally started leaking in through his nostrils and Athrun's look became less panicky and more blissful. When Cagalli pulled back at last, he still gasped for breath for several very long moments.

"You nearly killed me there." He accused her.

"You shoulda thought of that before you made your little speech, huh?" Cagalli mocked him. "Motivation is motivation, love." Athrun had the grace to glare at her for using his own words against him. Cagalli started to pull him closer, a banked fire starting to burn hotter inside her. To her shock, Athrun actually pulled away. She looked at him questioningly.

"Now is not the time or place, Cagalli. We need to be a little more circumspect if we want to avoid a follow up of last time." Athrun answered her unspoken question. "But I'll definitely look you up when we get back to the bunker. Your room or mine?"

"Don't make me assault you again." Cagalli replied, raising another clenched fist. Athrun held up his hands in defeat as they both turned to go down the stairs inside the building they now stood up.

"You can beat on me all you want, but I want you to save a little bit of that energy for figuring out how we're going to get our mobile suits back." Athrun informed her.

"I don't even know where they would be. I'd think it would be at Morganroete's primary facilities on Onogoro, but there are nearly a dozen locations I know of that Kisaka could have stashed them. And knowing Kisaka, theres probably at least another dozen places I don't know about where they could be kept. There's no way for us to find out while we're here in Hawaii though, that's for sure." Cagalli mused as they began searching through the darkened building. Light streamed in through many broken windows and even holes in the wall, but still large parts of the interior were deep in shadow. Athrun guided them around several weak spots in the floor as they descended through the levels of the building.

"So are you thinking we should go to Orb and do some scouting around? I remember doing that back during the war, before the Archangel made it to JOSH-A. It was only by purest luck I discovered that Orb was actually hiding them, that time. It strikes me that this would be much the same situation, though even less likely to bear fruit." Athrun asked once they reached the second floor. There was a lot more rubble here, debris from floors farther up. There were also a few corpses, mostly hidden by the wreckage, but identifiable enough as some of the people who had worked here, in the business center.

"Well, this time around you'd have Alkire and the TEMPEST unit's resources at our disposal. They seem pretty well versed in intelligence gathering." Cagalli replied.

"True. But despite what they say, I don't like the thought of getting them too involved." Athrun countered.

"Why?"

"I don't quite know how to put this… let's just say I have some doubts as to whether or not their goals and our goals coincide very well."

"That was pretty vague. Mind clearing it up a bit for me?"

"Fine. I believe they are nice people, and we certainly owe them for sheltering us and offering their protection. But to be blunt, they're a pack of killers. Cold hearted commandos who are trained in dozens of ways of sowing death and confusion and panic. Their solution to ending the war would be to kill enough enemies so that the other side gave up in despair. They probably wouldn't object too much to a Genesis type weapon, as long as it was used like it was in the first shot, to wipe out only strictly military targets. I foresee a lot of friction between them and us if we ever go into battle together." Athrun clarified.

"I see what you're trying to say, but I don't agree. After all, you've killed people and I've killed people. Kira's killed people too. To be totally honest, the only ones of us who has not directly killed someone at least once would be Lacus and Mir, and they took part indirectly in the deaths of others as well, though of course not willingly. From a lot of people's viewpoints, the three ship alliance was nothing more than a pack of killers, devoted to spreading death, confusion and panic among both sides of the war. Sure, we had the right motives… but still… what really makes us better than Alkire, Raine, Victor, James and… well… Vlad is a special case?"

"Yes, he is. I don't feel at all comfortable around him, even if he is a kind soul now. I'm not saying my hands are stain free, but he's got a lot more to account for than I like to contemplate. As for the other TEMPEST members… well, I see your point. I'm not really in any position to judge them, am I?"

"Don't get me wrong. I feel much the same way about them as you. I like them, and I think it's great for Ysak and all, but their attitude doesn't sit well with me at times. They just plain refuse to look beyond their warrior philosophies at the greater truths. Killing people doesn't stop wars. I'm not sure any one thing can really stop a war. But if there is one thing, killing your enemies isn't it. Not so long as those enemies have families and friends of their own, anyway." Cagalli returned, shifting a large wooden beam out of the way to check a young man who looked like he might have still been alive. No such luck. The beam had crushed his spine and he had bleed out from the compound fractures of both legs, paralyzed and unable to call for help. Cagalli shook her head as she and Athrun left the victim and made their way down to ground level.

"Well, we certainly can't let them get away with either this or the attack on Junius Six." Athrun said, as they once again emerged into the sunlight. "Philosophical problems aside, we still need Alkire and his friends now. They're the only reliable way we have of getting to Orb with any chance of going undetected."

"So we are going to Orb then?" Cagalli asked.

"Aren't we?"

"We are." She decided. "If nothing else, we need to talk to Kisaka. Hopefully after we break him out of jail."

"You sure that's okay? You'd be breaking your own country's laws." Athrun teased. Cagalli considered that with more serieousness than he had intended.

"I don't like breaking laws. But the greater good demands it. We need those mobile suits. And Kisaka is the only one I can think of that might know where they are. And I doubt he would be able to tell us from inside prison, without the authorities finding out and confiscating them for their own use. And then it'd be twice as much hell getting them back. Breaking Kisaka out of jail seems like the plan that will engender the least damage to my country." Cagalli replied.

"Besides, we have a team of Commando's who break out of jail for laughs on our side. It'll be a cinch." Athrun said with a chuckle that Cagalli joined. Athrun looked around after they were done with their laugh. "I think we've gone far enough. We should head back. The authorities will be along soon, and you and I have to be off the street by then."

---------------------------------

"This is too familiar looking." Ysak commented as he surveyed a collapsed house, with the family still inside. He had tried digging in to them, but had desisted after finding out that the house had no basement and that the entire house had been crushed flat. Nothing living could have remained in there. It was nothing more than an odd looking grave now. "It reminds me of Panama after we were done occupying it, without the destroyed mobile suits of course."

"I heard Panama was a bad battle." Katie commented from behind him. She was poking through some debris on the front lawn of the property while Chanel tended to an older man they had found lying unconscious on the front walkway.

"It certainly wasn't a clean battle, by most people's standards." Ysak allowed. "But I was on the victorious side, so I don't really consider it a bad battle."

"I heard that ZAFT executed a large number of Earth Forces soldiers after the battle. Even those who were surrendering or wounded." Katie persisted. Ysak remained silent, replaying the images he had witnessed, of Ginns slaughtering surrendering soldiers as they stood around in groups. He remembered the sound of gunfire hunting through the smoking ruins that had persisted for hours after the battle was officially won.

"Was that true?" Chanel asked, coming up behind Ysak.

"What do you think?" Ysak asked her back. Chanel just nodded.

"Did you… participate… too?" Katie asked. Ysak glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't shoot surrendering soldiers. What's the fun in attacking those who don't fight back?" he told them grimly. Of course, then flashed through his mind the image of the shuttle fleeing the flagship of the 8th orbital fleet, the one he had assumed was full of cowardly EA soldiers, as he destroyed it while it attempted re-entry. It wasn't until much later that he had learned the shuttle had been crowded with civilian refugees from Heliopolis, people who had been stowed away aboard the Archangel during that ships journey from Heliopolis to the 8th fleet. Ysak forced the image out of his head. Now wasn't the time for reminiscing.

"That's what we thought." Chanel said as Katie nodded in agreement.

"We should move on. There's nothing here but death. Is the old guy going to be all right?" Ysak said. Chanel bobbed her head.

"He just has a concussion and a few broken ribs. He was tossed around by the shockwave but the house shielded him from most of it. He's stable and warm. He'll be okay for the next few hours, more than enough time for the proper authorities to arrive." She reported. Ysak nodded and led the way down the residential street. Their search sector was in the lower class area of the belt of suburbs that surrounded the commercial heart of the city. Most of the houses had been one or two story affairs, enough for a single small family of modest means. Of course now were nothing more than piles of rubble and kindling. This close to the blast zone, the shockwave had hit like the fist of a god. The old man had been the first survivor Ysak and the girls had found.

"I don't understand how Blue Cosmos could nuke one of our own cities. What sort of rational drives them? How can they think that this is right?" Katie demanded suddenly. Ysak smirked at her.

"You're asking a Coordinator why Blue Cosmos does things? As far as I can tell they act out of pure malice, often driven by their cowardly fear of their superiors. They're a plague. Trying to figure out their rational for doing things is usually pointless. They do things because they believe that whatever it is will bring them closer to their precious "Blue and Pure World", whatever that is."

"I don't see much pure around us now." Chanel said quietly. "In fact, I don't see anything but destruction and heartbreak and pain here."

"It makes me so mad!" Katie said, clenching her fists in rage. "All the helpless people in this city. They never had a chance."

"Neither did a lot of people up in Junius Six." Ysak pointed out. Katie and Chanel came up close on either side of him.

"So what…"

"… are you going to do now?" they asked, Katie beginning and Chanel finishing. Ysak, now used to their peculiar manner of talking in sequence, rubbed his jaw in contemplation.

"I've been waiting for a recall notice to the ZAFT military for quite some time now. You can bet they'll be screaming for our protection now, forgetting of course how they felt about us after the war." Ysak said.

"But you're a mobile suit pilot! What are you going to do without a mobile suit?" Chanel asked. Ysak looked at her.

"ZAFT has many mobile suits. Just because I don't have the Duel handy doesn't mean I'm machineless. They'd probably give me a CGUE or something suited for my skills. I am a team commander, you know."

"But what good would you be able to do in the kind of war that looks to be shaping up?" Katie wondered. Ysak turned his head to glare at her.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean…" Katie started

"… that in a full scale nuclear war, what good are mobile suits, even with skilled pilots?" Chanel finished. Katie glared at her twin.

"Stop reading my mind. I want to speak to him too, you know." Katie admonished.

"Sorry. I can't help it."

"Yes, you can. It's called keeping your mouth shut and your mind busy elsewhere." Katie countered flatly. Ysak noted a real tone of tension in her voice. He patted them both on the shoulder placatingly.

"Calm down. We've got lots of time for both of you to talk to me as much as you want." Ysak told them. "Though that was a pretty strange thing to say. Chanel can't really read your mind, can she?" Ysak joked to relieve the tension. Both girls remained silent for a long moment. Ysak missed the brief widening of both girls eyes as they stared at each other.

"Of course not." Chanel said suddenly.

"That's silly." Katie added.

"Telepathy doesn't exist." Chanel continued.

"Its just we know each other so well, being twins and all." Katie emphasized.

"Exactly." Chanel confirmed with a nod.

"Exactly." Katie nodded herself. Ysak stared at both of them strangely.

"You… didn't have to convince me. I was making a joke." He pointed out. Both girls looked uncomfortable.

"Oh…"

"Right…"

"Of course…"

"We knew that…"

"Anyway, in answer to your question, theres lots of things skilled mobile suits pilots can do, in any war, nuclear or not. During the last war I shot down nuclear missiles before they could hit the PLANTS. So did Kira and Athrun. And besides, you have to occupy the enemy territory. Nuclear missiles don't make perceptive guards." Ysak continued, feeling a change in subject was in order.

"Why?" Katie asked.

"Why do nuclear missiles make bad guards? You're kidding?"

"No, no. Why do you have to occupy enemy territory?" Chanel clarified. Ysak thought about that for a few moments.

"Umm… because if you don't occupy the enemy territory, they'll just move more troops there and attack you again… that's pretty obvious, I think."

"What if you nuke the territory so hard theres nothing but irradiated bedrock remaining? Nobody will move more troops back to an area like that." Katie countered.

"Why would you do something like that?" Ysak demanded.

"Why did the PLANTS build and fire GENESIS?" Chanel retorted. Ysak started to say something but couldn't think of a suitable retort. The girl's point was starting to hit home. In a war of mass destruction, what real role did mobile suits have? They were great for fighting a conventional war, so overwhelming that both sides spent huge sums researching newer and better ways to make them. But one nuclear missile could destroy an entire army of mobile suits with one shot for a tiny fraction of the cost. And with a nuclear missile you could launch it from half a world away at no risk to yourself.

"I think we're all in deeper shit than we thought." Ysak managed at last.

"No interdiction system is perfect." Chanel said.

"Especially a human controlled one." Katie added.

"Even Kira and Athrun can't be everywhere at once. If the Earth launched wave upon wave of nukes at the PLANTS, eventually some would slip through." Ysak said, horrified.

"And vice versa. If the PLANTS launched nukes at every major city in the northern hemisphere, theres no way they could all be shot down." Chanel replied.

"The PLANTS…." Ysak began then stopped. He had been about to say that the PLANTS wouldn't use nukes, but he realized that wasn't the case. The PLANTS had developed the N-Jammer canceler in the first place, re-opening the nuclear bag, so to speak. Besides, the PLANTS were human, just like anyone else. If the EA came at them with nuclear missiles, they would respond in kind.

"We need to smother this before it gets any worse." Ysak declared. "We need to get to our mobile suits. Without them, we're just bystanders."

"I beg to differ. You have Uncle Alkire and Raine and their friends on your side. And Chanel and me. We aren't just bystanders." Katie protested. Ysak shot her a sardonic glance.

"Sure. Right. But compared to the power of a mobile suit, Alkire and TEMPEST really aren't that much." Ysak said with more than a hint of arrogance. Chanel and Katie stopped and glared at him, striking twin poses with hands on hips and jaws jutting ever so slightly. Ysak continued walking for several paces before stopping to look back at them.

"Sure, maybe they couldn't level a city block without a few hours of preparation, but theres lots of things they can do that would be impossible for you to do in your "powerful mobile suit"." Katie said forcefully.

"Like sneak around. A sixteen meter humanoid machine is hardly inconspicuous. It's pretty hard to miss one, really. And what about infiltration missions? You told us about the one you were on in Heliopolis. Would that have been possible if you had just attacked in your mobile suits?" Chanel continued.

"We would have pulled it off somehow. We only chose to sneak in because we didn't want to damage the colony too much. For all the good it did us."

"Oh, shut up. You can't just blast every problem you get into. Sometimes finesse is required." Katie said, breaking her pose to catch up with him.

"I know that. I have plenty of finesse. I'm merely very judicious about when I put it to use."

"Sure, whatever, Ysak-y." Chanel said, also catching up to him. "You have finesse like Dearka has tact."

"I've warned you about comparing me to Dearka. That's not cool. I'm going to make you regret that later."

"What about me?" Katie asked impishly.

"Oh, you know what they say. Sins of the sister and all…" they all shared a laugh. It wasn't until afterwards that Ysak looked around at the devastation still around them that he felt a little uncomfortable. Laughter did not seem to fit this place. It would be like laughing at a funeral. Except that this was the funeral of an entire city. "We should move on. There's no one around here we can save." Ysak said into the strained silence. He led the girls to another residential neighborhood, but they weren't able to do much there either. Heavier equipment than just hands and feet were required to dig into the houses and collapsed buildings, in order to search out trapped survivors. They encountered many shocked and mildly injured people wandering aimlessly about in the streets, but most such groups required no first aid that they could provide. Once or twice they heard shots in the distance, undoubtedly from looters or other miscreants taking advantage of the chaos to enrich themselves, but they never encountered anything that required them to draw their weapons on the way into the city.

"Look at the time. If we don't head back soon, Alkire's gonna leave without us." Chanel said, after they checked yet another office building that was filled with nothing but dead bodies and debris. This close to the blast area, only a kilometer or so, Ysak hadn't expected to find any survivors, but he had checked just to be sure. Given some of the things he'd seen people survive, and even survived himself, he wasn't willing to rule anything as unsurvivable.

"You mean he'll come searching for us and give us a good bit more than a piece of his mind. They wouldn't actually leave without us." Katie replied.

"That'd be worse than leaving us behind. His lectures are so boring." Chanel said. Katie nodded her agreement.

"We've got time. If we walk at more than the crawl we've been doing while searching for survivors, we'll make it back with time to spare. It's only about a kilometer or so. We could probably sprint it if we had to." Ysak replied.

"I'd rather not. Let's just head back now. This place creeps me out." Chanel said, gesturing vaguely at the half destroyed buildings around them. Katie nodded her agreement again. Even Ysak was starting to feel a small bit of unease. In the late afternoon sun the buildings looked like dead fingers clawing at the sky. It didn't help that there seemed to be no other people around. It was like standing in some barren alien landscape.

"Yeah… good idea." Ysak said. He turned to head back up the street towards where the jet was when a brick came sailing out of nowhere and nearly cracked his skull open. If he hadn't seen it coming out of the corner of his eye, he'd have been lying on the ground bleeding. As it was, it nearly grazed him before continuing its flight to smash against the street several yards away. Ysak glared around as a large group of young adults of both sexes came rushing out of various nearby alleyways to form a cordon blocking off the way out of the city. There must have been at least twenty or thirty of them. All looked disreputable, being dressed in torn clothing with garish symbols and designs, many sporting tattoos of skulls or barbed wire or other things less easily identified, and of course, to top it off, many carried improvised weapons, like metal poles, chains, broken bottles and bricks.

"Weelll… look what we have here. These people look pretty rich." One of the meaner looking members of the mob said as he twirled a wooden baseball bat in one hand.

"Great… looters." Katie whispered to Chanel.

"Or a really big gang. Some of the colors and tattoos seem uniform." Her sister whispered back.

"Mighty fine looking girls too… no offense, ladies." The mean looking thug said, tipping his hand to the females in his group in apology. "I think they should stay awhile and be entertained. Of course, they'll have to pay for the privilege…"

"I dunno, Jack. They look like authority types to me. Lookit those medkits. They must be relief workers." Another ganger spoke up.

"And? You see any soldiers around here? No… neither do I. That makes them trespassers, just like anyone else." The gang leader shot back. "And trespassers gotta pay."

"You don't want to go down this path." Ysak warned them, reaching behind his back to grip his pistol.

"Sure I do, bro. Hell, I been down this path so many times I can tell you what you're going to say next." The thug said with a big smile.

"Oh?"

"Something along the lines that you don't want any trouble, and that if we'll just let you through, nobody has to get hurt, right?" Ysak nodded slowly. The gang leader reached behind his own back. "And then, if I say no, you'll pull the gun you're reaching for and say it again. But we got guns too. Right, guys?" he said to his gang. Six or seven of them immediately whipped out pistols of their own. One brutish girl even produced a pump action shotgun from inside her beat up leather jacket.

"You really have done this a lot." Ysak said. The gang leader nodded.

"It's a profession." He said wickedly.

"Too bad your career is about to be cut short." Ysak drew his pistol with blinding speed and blew the gang leader's brains all over the street with a snap shot. Ysak dropped and rolled left, bringing up his pistol to go for the gun toting looters, but Chanel and Katie had beaten him to the punch. Drawing their own weapons they had wiped out the gangers with guns before Ysak had even finished his roll. The rest of the gang bunched up with a hiss of anger and started to move forward, until Ysak and the girls pumped a few more shots indiscrimately into the crowd, dropping several more of the gangers. Having suffered casualties already, and berefit their leader, the rest of the gang chose the better part of valor and fled screaming back into the alleys.

"That's not how it had to go." Ysak murmured as the footfalls of the retreating faded. He looked at the contorted bodies of the dead gangers. "None of you had to die today. Especially after surviving the nuke."

"Ysak?" Katie asked. Ysak shook himself and looked up, slipping his pistol back into his small of the back holster.

"It's okay. We should get back, quickly. There might be more of them, attracted to the gunfire."

"Oh… good idea." Chanel said, reloading her pistol and tucking it back into her own holster. None of them spared a single backwards glance as they left, heading back up the street.


	22. Flight to Orb part 1

Alkire waited impatiently at the base of the stairs of the jet. He tapped his foot in agitation as he watched Dearka and Miriallia slowly make their way back down the street toward him. Alkire glanced at his watch again. The kids still had a good thirty minutes until they had to be back by the agreed time, but matters had changed slightly. The authorities had been faster to respond than expected, and right now a military escorted relief convoy was rolling down this very highway towards the city. Their ETA was approximately ten minutes away. Alkire wanted to be long gone by then, having no interest in having a discussion with any military people. Plus, it'd be nearly impossible to take off with vehicles all over the road.

"Don't mean to be rude, kids…" Alkire muttered under his breath. "… but GET A FUCKING MOVE ON!" he shouted. Dearka and Miriallia jumped. "Bus is leaving in one minute. If you aren't on board before then, you can ride the goddamn wings. Or walk." Alkire informed them. Miriallia and Dearka sprinted the remaining distance, arriving in less than forty seconds.

"Geez, what's the deal? We have plenty of time before we have to be back…" Dearka commented under his breath, just loud enough for Alkire to hear.

"Correction. You HAD plenty of time, though you ARE the last group in. But that was before we received news that this place is going to be knee deep in soldiers in approximately five minutes. Unless you'd rather stay here while Cagalli, Athrun and us TEMPEST people undergo some very stressful negotiations with the authorities, get the heck on board, sit down, strap in, and don't make sarcastic comments." Alkire hissed. Dearka hurried on board, practically carrying Miriallia up the stairs after him. Alkire took the stairs three at a time behind them and hit the door switch while still climbing. As the stairs slowly retracted into the door, Alkire hustled his way up to the cockpit and sat down. Vladimir nodded at him from the copilot's chair, having just finished completing the pre flight checklist.

"We good to go?" Alkire asked, taking a few extra seconds to do a brief pre flight of his own.

"Of course. Kids are all strapped in and already in a heated debate. ETA on that convoy is any time in the near immediate to sooner, so we should get going, I think. I don't want to have to pull off a combat take off." Vladimir replied.

"Alright, alright, alright. We'll get going. But only cause you insist." Alkire flipped back, setting switchs, pushing buttons and strapping himself in with the other hand. He hit the intercom button as he settled on hand on the yoke. "This is your captain speaking… I'd like to welcome you once again to Majesty airlines. We'll be taking off shortly, but the ride might get a little bumpy, because of the military convoy bearing down upon us as I speak. Please hang on and pray for dear life. Thank you." Alkire hit the intercom off button.

"Are you ever serious?"

"That was serious." Alkire said, pointing at the near distance, where the first tanks and half tracks filled with relief workers had appeared. Vlad narrowed his eyes and calculated distances.

"I make the runway at 5500 feet long. And shortening at roughly eighty kph. How long is the minimum runway for this jet again?"

"Because of your modifications… roughly 1800 feet, give or take fifty feet."

"We should get moving then. Right now."

"Aye aye, commandant. Taking off." Alkire said, putting the jet into a taxi, gradually increasing the throttles until the jet was barreling along at nearly 180 kph. The jet needed to be going at least 250 kph before it could take off.

"Main battle tank… I mean, end of runway approx. five hundred feet from our current position. Any day now would be nice, sir."

"Shut up and let the pilot drive, damn it. This is going to be a near thing."

"Wonderful. I always have wondered, just what the other guys are thinking in a situation like this? What is going through the minds of the people in that tank?"

"I don't know. I know what's going through mine though."

"What's that?"

"Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!"

"That's not very reassuring." Vlad said as Alkire gritted his teeth and yanked the yoke backwards, seeming to pull the plane's nose up by sheer brute strength. The retracting landing gear barely grazed the top of the tank turret as they roared by, taking off the open hatch and radio antenna cleanly and imparting a slight wobble to the jet that Alkire quickly corrected.

"We made it?" Alkire said hesitantly.

"You mean you weren't sure we were going to?"

"Are you kidding? I thought we were all about to die. We were at the 2300 foot mark and our airspeed is still only 232 kph. The instruments are telling me we should be dead now." Alkire said, wiping his brow clean of sweat. Vladimir audibly gulped.

"I think I need to visit the restroom."

"Yeah… don't take too long. I need a bathroom break too." Alkire said, still shaky. Vladimir half stumbled his way out of the cockpit into the passenger cabin. He made his way quickly to the restroom and splashed some cold water on his face after relieving his nervous bladder. There came a knock on the door and Vlad jumped slightly, before opening the door and getting out.

"My, Vlad, is something wrong? You look even paler than usual." James commented. Vlad steadied himself against the wall. "Stomach not agree with you?" James asked innocently. "The takeoff wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Alkire usually only does his little airline captain act when things are going to get really rough, but that was smooth as silk, except for that tiny bit of turbulence at the end there."

Vlad stared at his friend intently. "Next time, you can help copilot then. My nerves are shot."

"What? Why?"

"That little bit of turbulence, there at the end… you know what that was?"

"No… do I want to?"

"It was the landing gear taking the cupola and radio antenna off the turret of a main battle tank." Vlad said, his voice cracking slightly. James looked at him like he was crazy.

"You mean the stuff that's right on top of the turret? I mean, like right on top of the turret."

"Yeah." Vlad said, nodding his head as well.

"As in, if the tank commander had been sticking his head out for a look around, he'd be headless now."

"Yes."

"Holy shit. Mind if I grab a piece of that wall?" James said, sagging against it next to Vlad. Both men leaned there for a long moment before Vlad managed a sickly grin.

"Even Alkire thought we were doomed. I need to get back to relieve him so he can take a break of his own."

"Right… the plane's okay though, right? I mean, a wing isn't going to break off suddenly or something? Just to be sure."

"The jet's fine. Might've blown a tire on the landing gear, but that's the worst of it." Vladimir assured the larger man before heading back to the cockpit. Alkire gladly handed the controls over to him and headed out for his own restroom break. After finishing up, Alkire called Vlad on the intercom and asked if the Russian could take the controls for a while, while Alkire had a talk with the passengers. Vlad agreed, having calmed down back to his usual self now that they were safely in the air. "What course should I set?" Vlad asked.

"Hmm… good question. We've got tons of fuel, so just put us in a wide holding pattern for now. I'll go ask the kids and see if they've made up their minds on what they want to do next. If they haven't got anything in mind, just take us back to the airstrip near the bunker." Alkire replied.

"Roger that. I'll put us in a holding pattern for the next fifteen minutes, and then head for home if no further instructions are given."

Alkire made his way to the passenger cabin and plopped down into a chair next to Raine. Cagalli, Athrun, Kira, Lacus, Ysak, Dearka, Miriallia, Chanel and Katie were embroiled in a debate, just like Vlad had said. It sounded to Alkire like it wasn't so much an argument as it was all the various people coming up with slightly different variations on the same idea and were now rehashing them out into a form that everyone understood. "So what's the score so far?" Alkire asked Raine, nodding his head at the kids.

"Orb's ahead by quite a few points. I think they're looking forward to a home game."

"And the strategy?"

"Break Kisaka out of jail, find out where he stashed the mobile suits, recover the same, and kick Blue Cosmos's ass back into the stone age."

"Simple… I like it. So what are they discussing now?"

"Logistics. Like how Cagalli and Athrun are going to get into the country without joining Kisaka in jail. Or how to find out which jail he's in. And what to do with their machines once they get them." Raine told him.

"Perfect. I can answer every one of those questions." Alkire said. He stood up again and moved over to the knot of kids. "Hey… so you guys want to go to Orb next, right?" he asked.

Lacus nodded and Cagalli stood up. "Yes, as soon as possible, please. I hate to ask you to ferry us around like this, but theres no one else we can ask."

"It's no trouble. We've all got the same goal in mind here. Besides, there's only so much lying low I can stand before I start doing crazy stuff. I'm a man of action." Alkire replied. He tapped the wall intercom. "Set in a course for Orb, Vlad. Circle around to enter the commercial flight lanes and then work on coming up with a plausible flight plan to tell Orb."

"Da, Major. It will be done." Vlad answered. Alkire turned back to Cagalli and the others.

"Now, as for some of your other problems, I believe I have the answers. I've a lot of experience doing things like this and my jet has some of the things we'll need in the cargo area. It won't be very comfortable, but I have a foolproof way of getting everyone into Orb without anyone being recognized. Once we're in Orb, Vlad and I have a few contacts we can look up to find out where Kisaka is. And I even know the perfect place to move your mobile suits to once you find them. Sound good?" Alkire said, pounding a fist into one hand in excitement as he got down to planning and preparing.

-------------------------------------------------------

"We've arrived, sir." The Lieutenant said politely, opening the door to the helicopter so Sai could leave. Sai staggered out of his seat and stood shakily on the helipad at his fiancée's island estate. During the flight back the true horror of what he had experienced had hit him and he'd been trembling and groggy ever since. He could have very easily have died, burned to a bloody skeleton in an instant if those missiles had landed in another place. He'd never have known what hit him. They might never have even found his remains, depending on how close to the blast he had been. He would have just left for work one day and never come back.

"T-thanks." Sai said. He gathered himself up again, fighting against the shock. "I mean it, thanks, Lieutenant. Thanks for bringing me home safely."

"No problem, sir. It's our duty. Your wife will be here shortly, so I will bid you good day." The Lieutenant said, waving a signal to the pilot of the helicopter, who promptly lifted off and buzzed away. The Lieutenant's men, who had disembarked while Sai was thanking the Lieutenant, picked up their bags and weapons and slipped off into the underbrush, disappearing within seconds. Sai idly wondered just where their oberservation posts were. He'd certainly never noticed anything approximating a blind in any of his explorations of the small island.

"You sure you don't want come in for a drink or something?" Sai said, turning back to the Lieutenant, who was no longer there. Somehow he'd managed to disappear while Sai was watching his men. Sai shivered, and not from the shock. That man was something else. He didn't seem entirely human. Sai recalled how the Lieutenant had calmly shot dead a civilian who had tried to stop the jeep that had carried him out of the city. The Lieutenant had issued no warnings and gave no threats; he simply brought his rifle up and blew a hole in the injured man's neck without batting an eye. Of course, that inhumanness did make Sai feel a little better about his and Vanai's safety. Sai didn't want to be the terrorist or burglar that had to deal with the Lieutenant and his unit.

"Or not." Sai mumbled, picking up his briefcase and straightening his suit as much as possible, since it had become rumpled in the helicopter backdraft. He started making his way off the helipad to the path that would lead back to the house. He was sure Vanai would be most upset and that he would need to spend considerable time calming her down and reassuring her that he was just fine. Sai smiled sourly. _Hell, compared to some of the stuff that happened to me on the Archangel, today was nothing more than mildly exciting. I just hope this time the war goes right and we won't have to see another repeat of the entire Archangel fiasco. I guess I'll just trust in my future father in law. Mr. Zunnichi seems like an upright and serious man. I'm sure he will do everything in his power to bring the war to a quick and hopefully final end._

_------------------------------------------_

"Ah, Cervantes, it has been too long, my friend." The Atlantic Federation President said warmly as the distinguished head of Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers entered his private study in the White House.

"It always is, Mr. President." Cervantes allowed. _Whenever I leave you to your own devices, you always manage to screw up, so I guess I'll be spending a lot more of my precious time with you, you insect._ Cervantes took the proffered armchair but declined a drink and the offered cigar. The brandy and cigars he had at home were much better than the politicalized trash the President always offered. "I have of course heard about Pearl Harbor. You and the entire nation have my strongest condolences."

"Thank you, Cervantes. You do your generous reputation credit." The President replied, taking a big swig of his own drink, which smelled a lot stronger than the brandy he had offered Cervantes. Cervantes observed the President's hand shake slightly. The man was a nervous wreck, though he was doing his best to hide it. Cervantes hid his displeasure behind a cheery smile. The man was a coward. He lacked the guts to do anything but what he was told to do by his much more intelligent and savvy advisors. Of course, that trait was also what made him so useful to Cervantes and Blue Cosmos.

"So what are you going to do, Mr. President? How will you respond to this unprovoked nuclear attack upon the Earth's pure soil?" Cervantes asked boldly. The president looked shocked and fumbled for an answer.

"Well… well, I can't… I mean… it's confidential. As respected a man as you are, Mr. Zunnichi, and despite all that you and the much lamented Azrael have done for me in the past, I can't just tell you military secrets." The president said, trying to sound firm. Cervantes twitched his mouth slightly in a smile like that a cat gives a mouse. So the president was trying to grow a spine, was he?

"Mr. President, you well know that the military has no secrets from me. I carry as high a security clearance as you do." Cervantes said. _Higher, actually._ "Given that my corporation is the primary manufacturer of mobile suits and advanced warfare technologies used by the Earth Alliance, my question was not merely out of personal interest. If my company is to provide for you the material you will need to fight a war, we will need to know what the projected plans are, so we can adjust manufacturing to keep up with the inevitable demand."

"I-I know. I was going to send you an edited copy of the situation report as soon as I was finished hashing it out with the Joint Chiefs."

"Edited? Why would you need to hide anything from your strongest financial backer and moral supporter?"

"I-I don't. But… you know the laws. You're a civilian. I can't just keep you in the loop like you were a General or Admiral. It's illegal."

"Mr. President, perhaps you don't understand the seriousness of the situation. The world is at war. And this time it's no back yard brawl. This is a full, strategic nuclear war we're poised at the brink of. Niceties like confidentiality clauses are only going to cause problems that could lead to tragedies." Cervantes said smoothly but harshly. The president blinked, unused to being spoken down to. "Look, Mr. President, I'll make this clear for you. In time of war, you have emergency powers automatically granted to you. You can just make an executive order to allow me access to the plans."

"But the Joint Chiefs…"

"The Joint Chiefs will go along with the order, especially if they want to see another mobile suit enter their inventories again."

"Are… are you trying to blackmail the Joint Chiefs with my help?"

"No, sir, you are overreacting. I'm merely saying that I can't commit my corporation's resources to a war I'm not sure will be fought properly. Sure, you could seize my holdings, but that would require an executive order as well… and if you were to write one of those, you might as well just keep me on your side."

"You're being very pushy, Cervantes. This isn't like you. You were always so polite before."

_Only because it was required of me by Azrael, because he didn't want to bruise your precious ego so you would let him do what he wanted, you worm._ "It's the attack on Pearl Harbor, sir. My soon to be son in law was in the city at the time of the attack. He's all right, but he could have easily have been killed. I'm a bit out of sorts." Cervantes said, telling a little bit of truth.

"You have my sympathies. And my congratulations. I didn't know Vanai was getting married. Isn't she a bit… young, though?"

"Not at all, Mr. President. Besides, who am I to stand in the way of true love?" Cervantes said with a wide grin. "I have your wedding invitation in my coat pocket. I was going to give it to you after we finished talking business, but I suppose now is as good a time as any." Cervantes said, fishing the finely crafted card out of his pocket and handing it over. The president glanced at it and nodded.

"My wife and I would be honored to attend."

"Of course, there might not even be a wedding, Mr. President."

"What?"

"Not if the PLANTS turn the Earth into a smoking, irradiated wasteland with their nuclear missiles. It'll be awfully hard to prevent them from doing so without new machines and technologies being researched by some companies I know of…"

"All right, all right, you've made your point, Cervantes. If the EA is to survive this war, we'll need your new weapons. I get it, I get it. I'll send you a full copy of the war plans as soon as they are decided upon. Though I will inform the Joint Chiefs of the action as well." The President said ill temperedly.

"Thank you, Mr. President." _That wasn't so hard, was it, you big baby?_ "I'm sure that with the courage of the EA military combined with our new line of mobile armors and mobile suits, we will emerge victorious this time." _Assuming you don't botch it again._ Cervantes replied.

"Yes, quite. Before you go though, Cervantes, I've a favor to ask of you." The President said, looking forward to paying Cervantes back for his unpleasant tone earlier.

"Yes, Mr. President? I am at your service."

"I need you to go to Orb." The President said, leaning back in his chair and taking another drink.

"To speak at the political conference being held there? You want me to go to a conference with the representatives of Orb?" Cervantes said with feigned distaste. _Here it comes. I'm glad I planted this little seed a while back, in case it was ever needed._

"Yes. They're struggling to elect a new leader, after that young girl was discredited. Too bad about her, she seemed like a nice enough person when I met her."

"She was sleeping with a Coordinator, Mr. President. And now the Coordinators have launched a sneak attack against us with Nuclear weapons. Doesn't that make you a little suspicious?"

"Of course it does. That's why I'm sending an occupation fleet after you."

"Oh?" _You mean you finally received that plan from the Joint Chiefs? I planted it with them long enough ago._

"Yes, it's quite the devious plan. Something I would expect more from you or the late Azrael than the Joint Chiefs." The President said.

"What's the plan?" Cervantes asked, pretending to be interested. _You'd think he'd figure it out. If a plan sounds like one of Azrael's or mine, it is probably Azrael's or mine, not the military's._

"The sent representative… you… will engage the people of Orb's trust. Then, when the fleet arrives, they will be welcomed with open arms as liberators, rather than opposed like that ill fated incident during the last war." The President said smugly.

"How am I supposed to engage their trust, sir?" Cervantes asked.

"I have a speech written."

_It's a pretty good one too. Full of fiery rhetoric and peaceable mush that'd make even old Nara Attha believe I had the best of intentions for his country. It took me nearly four days closeted with my best speech writers and political advisors to write the damn thing._ "So I give this speech and do the political thing. What do I get out of it?" Cervantes asked. It was so gratifying, following the script he had written out for this entire scenario, even though the President had no idea. The President stood up and went over to the window, facing away from Cervantes. Neither man said anything for several minutes. Cervantes refused to be baited by the waiting game.

"You're the head of Blue Cosmos…" the President said softly.

"And? Is Blue Cosmos not a legitimate environmental concern?" Cervantes replied.

"Come now, Cervantes. Even if we aren't and have never been friends, we don't need that level of play acting between us. Blue Cosmos is a terrorist organization."

"And? I don't recall Blue Cosmos doing anything to wrong your administration." Cervantes said. "Directly." He added as a caution. The President half turned.

"That's true. That's why I've never done anything to destroy or condemn its activities, despite immense political pressure." The President replied. _That and the huge sums they gave to my campaign fund._ Both men thought as one. They looked at each other and realized they were thinking along similar lines.

"The long and short of it is… if you do this for me, I won't harass Blue Cosmos in the future. No matter what, short of treason or the like." The President said quietly.

"You're giving Blue Cosmos free reign? You won't interfere in our agenda? Even indirectly, such as veteoing plans created by those members of the military that are part of my organization?"

"… Yes. I'll give you free reign to bring about your Blue and Pure world. Your world without Coordinators. I will not interfere in Blue Cosmos organization politics, and I will not harass your soldiers. Mind you, this is not total free reign. EA soldiers still owe their loyalty to the EA first and foremost. But now, if they so choose, their second highest loyalty may be Blue Cosmos." The President confirmed.

"I'll do it. But I want it in writing."

"Done. I have a flight booked for you…"

"My jet is already waiting for me."

"But… wait… how?"

"No buts, Mr. President. We have a deal. I'll pave the way for the annexation of Orb and you'll let me deal with the Coordinators as they should be dealt with. I'll talk to you again. Thank you and good day." Cervantes said, bowing slightly and walking out with a victorious grin on his face. He heard the President swear as the door shut and grinned even wider.


	23. Flight to Orb part 2

Asmodeus sat in his office in the underground headquarters of Cosmos Weapons Manufacturers in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. He was surrounded by an impressive array of computer screens, display projectors, video communication lines and even old fashioned hard line telephones. A large cup of steaming hot Colombian coffee sat on a reserved podium beside his chair, leaving the desk free for documents. This was the nerve center of the CWM security force and one of the largest stores of information in the world, though few people knew about it. Utilizing the array of supercomputers beneath the floor of the room, Asmodeus could hack into any computer system on the Earth in minutes. He'd even had a bit of success getting into the ZAFT computers up in the PLANTS, though those were much more difficult, just from the distance involved. Currently he was doing a wide band search for discharged or estranged military personnel who might have the motivation to hate Blue Cosmos or Cervantes Zunnichi. The list was depressingly long.

However, despite the length of the prospective task, Asmodeus was confident that he'd know who the enemy was before his coffee grew too much colder. He thought back to a situation a few months back, when one of the Andean terrorist training centers was hit and wiped out. There had been no distress signal until long after the base was destroyed, because the base radio operater had been killed at his station during the attack. Or rather, before the attack even began. The man's throat had been crushed. By a wire garrote. A strangler's tool, consisting of a length of steel wire strung between two grips. To use it, you looped it around your foe's neck and pulled it tight. If you knew what you were doing, you could crush their windpipe before they were even aware of your presence. A strong enough person could even decapitate a victim with it. However, it wasn't a weapon that could be used if the victim knew you were around, as all they had to do to avoid it would be to not let you put it around their neck.

So Asmodeus had directed another search of known killers who used garrotes and were accomplished enough infiltrators to sneak past a dozen sentries and penetrate to the radio room of a guarded base. The person would also have to be a good enough hacker to bypass several electronic locks. Asmodeus didn't think there were many people who fit all three criteria. And of course, he was right. In fact, there was only one. Andre Forkav. The Strangler Horrificus. A former Blue Cosmos member, actually. Someone Asmodeus had actually met on several occasions. He even had cause to hate Blue Cosmos and Mr. Zunnichi personally, having been blackmailed and manipulated into becoming the organization's most prolific killer, in hopes of seeing his children again. What Andre hadn't known was that his children had been shunted off into the early BCPU projects and were lost there.

Of course, the problem with this theory was that Andre Forkav was dead, for several years now. He had died in a shuttle crash, coming back from yet another successful terrorist foray in the PLANTS. Asmodeus remembered the crash. The bodies in the shuttle were all too badly burned to identify directly, but DNA evidence had proved that Andre was in fact that corpse. However, the DNA evidence had been collected by Vladimir Valkavich, a close friend of Andre's. Asmodeus's suspicions were aroused again. He had dug deeper and found that Vladimir had also supposedly been on the shuttle that had crashed. Yet somehow he had managed to get off in time to avoid dying and also bring with him incontrovertible proof of his friend's death, just so he could show it to his superiors? It was a little too pat for Asmodeus's tastes.

Digging still deeper, Asmodeus discovered that Valkavich had dropped off the map about five years ago. He had done a search for the man and found him enrolled in a Guerilla warfare training camp hosted by the neutral nation of Orb. It was something done on the sly, since Orb needed highly trained soldiers, but they could hardly claim that having deadly commandos was a defensive measure, could they? The information had been filed away inside Orb's defense computers, but they hadn't even slowed Asmodeus down. Anything could be broken into, given the right resources. In his case, a few calls had gotten several "old drinking buddies" in the Orb defense headquarters to quietly jack the defense computers into the world wide net for nearly fifteen minutes. Asmodeus had been able to download a great deal of information in that time. He had set most away for future study and gone on with his dig.

Unsurprisingly, Valkavich was also skilled in infiltration and computer hacking. He was also reputably a mechanical genius, a man who could fix any vehicle given enough time and even come up with workable modifications to improve performance, all with just a normal household garage. Asmodeus had located several picture files of Valkavich and had run them through a disguise removing program. Sure enough, after only a few minutes, the program had stripped away the layers of plastic surgery and cosmetic artistry that concealed Andre Forkav. Asmodeus perused the files the Orb government had on Vlakavich/Forkav. Apparently he was one of the star students of the camp, along with four others who all had the same instructor, one Major Ledonir Kisaka.

A brief side search turned up Kisaka again. He was now Colonel Kisaka, the man who up until several weeks ago had been Regent of Orb. An interesting side note, but Asmodeus didn't really pay much attention until he dug up another report file, this one sealed and top secret. He cracked it open casually and glanced through the text and then glanced away before nearly spitting his coffee all over the screen. Apparently this Kisaka person had been engaged to a staunchly pro-Coordinator rights woman. Well, Blue Cosmos was never one to stand for that sort of thing, so they had kidnapped the woman. Valkavich was still listed as part of Blue Cosmos at that time. Asmodeus dimly remembered the mission; it hadn't been one of his. Kisaka and his students had attempted a rescue mission, one of those heroic action movie type things that all Special Forces personnel are taught never to do early on in their training.

Predictably, the rescue effort went south, and pretty hard too. Valkavich/Forkav revealed his affiliation with Blue Cosmos by stabbing his friends in the back. In the ensuing gunfight, the future Mrs. Kisaka had taken a SMG burst at close range. Needless to say, she did not survive and neither did her unborn twins. Valkavich/Forkav had disappeared again after this incident and so thoroughly that no matter how hard Asmodeus searched; he could find no mention of the man. However, never one to give up so easily, Asmodeus had backed up a bit and had looked at the situation from a different angle. Doubtless Valkavich's former friends would have wanted revenge for being betrayed like that. And of course, there it was, on the screens. Over the course of the next two years there were dozens of different inquiries by the four other commando's from the camp, as well as a few by Kisaka himself. Asmodeus had to admire their tenacity and ingeneuity… though unsuccessful in finding the location of Valkavich; they had figured out his connection to Andre Forkav and had even figured out what had happened to his children.

Then the four commandos had dropped off the radar, all at once. Less than three weeks later they appeared again, and this time there were five. Somehow, someway, they had managed to locate Valkavich. It was more than possible that it was just a fluke, one of those lucky twists of fate that all intelligence operatives know about and wish for. They had apparently confronted Valkavich/Forkav about his past and had revealed to him the fate of his children. Unsurprisingly, Valkavich had immediately tried to quit Blue Cosmos and swore revenge. Showing the kind of pity and sympathy that Asmodeus usually ascribed to fairy tale saints, the other four commandos had aided him in his quest to break free of Blue Cosmos. They were partially successful. Valkavich did indeed leave the organization, but in the course of the firefight, he was mortally wounded. The report in Asmodeus's files described how Valkavich had had both his arms caught in the treads of a tank and ripped off at the shoulder. How the man had survived was beyond Asmodeus, but apparently survive he had. But an armless cripple could hardly have garroted that radio operater, so Asmodeus had dived back into the search. Several months after Valkavich and his friends had disappeared from that fight; a CWM top secret lab was attacked.

Here was where things started to fall into place. This particular lab had been researching mechanical replacements for lost limbs. Normally, it wasn't a place that would get attacked, since the applications of the limbs were non combat oriented and besides, the research was highly experimental and only one set of prototypes had been created. Also, who would have the motivation to attack a lab that was producing something only crippled people had any need for? However, the lab was wiped out and the arms went missing. Less tha two months later, Blue Cosmos operatives had started disappearing. It had started out with just small groups. A person might go out with a group of friends and not come back, or a successful squad might go out to a party and come back minus two or three members. Most were never found. Things had dropped off during the war, Valkavich and company had no doubt found hidey holes and pulled them in after them, as any intelligent mercenaries would do during a full scale war of that sort. No sense in dying for a cause you didn't really believe in. And fighting Coordinators in commando warfare was a good way to find an early grave, their improved physical and mental abilities and reflexes made them frustrating opponents to say the least.

But then, after the war had ended, the training center in the Andes of Chile had been hit and destroyed. That brought Asmodeus full circle; convincing him he had the right story. From there it was a simple matter to look up the other four members of Valkavich's team. Asmodeus was now studying their profiles, making sure everything was in order before he sent the package to Mr. Zunnichi. His trademark was his completeness in every aspect of his job; it simply wouldn't do for even one seemingly pointless facet of the enemy to be ignored in his report. The four other commandos were named Robert Jones, James Ramsgoth, Raine Belaruse and the most surprising of all, Victor Klien, who was, ages ago, Asmodeus's dormmate in college and a fellow member of the University of Germany's fencing team. In fact, looking at the files, Asmodeus realized that he already knew these four people. They weren't even acquaintances, but he had either heard of them or studied missions they had been a part of.

First was the most famous or infamous of them. Robert Jones, aka Alkire Majesty aka several other names. A major in the EFSOU or Earth Forces Special Operations Unit, the same organization Asmodeus had been part of. Or a former major anyway. Apparently Jones had had a bit of a problem with Azrael's decision to use the newly acquired N-Jammer cancellers to nuke the PLANTS, rather than resolve the energy crisis. When the MP's tried to arrest him, he broke free and ran. An EFSOU General was killed in the process. Jones had fled to a safe house in Tokyo and had emerged several weeks later as Alkire Majesty. From there he had gone to Switzerland, where he had been living up until several weeks ago, when he abruptly left, attracting quite a bit of notice. He had piloted a jet out of the closed Bern airport, evading all attempts to track him and even indirectly causing one of the Strike Crusaders that were on loan to the EA for trials in the area to be shot down by friendly fire. His current whereabouts were still unknown.

Jones… or Majesty… which was an utterly ridiculous name… was a generalist. He had not specialized in any one area of the Special Forces arts. He was not an infiltrator, not a hacker, not a sniper, not a heavy weapons man, not a demolitions man, not any one thing. However, he could do almost everything with proficiency, if not mastery. He was of course an excellent shot with both rifle and pistol, and trained in various forms of unarmed combat, deadly and not. That was nothing less than expected. Exceptional items were his ability at piloting vehicles, which was rumored to be world class. He could fly or drive any sort of ground, air or sea vehicle short of the new Mobile Suits like he was born in it. His evasive maneuvers while escaping Bern had caused the destruction of a Strike Crusader from friendly fire, a nearly unheard of thing. Also, he was the scion of the Jones family, a byword among illegal arms dealers. The Jones's were rumored to be dead, and the business certainly had gone silent after the energy crisis started, but their resources still seemed to be at Majesty's command. He was undoubtedly the leader and sponsor of the enemy team.

Next was James Ramsgoth. Also a member of the Earth forces, he had served with honor during the war, in the AFAR, the Atlantic Federation Army Rangers. He had participated in several battles, including the re-taking of the Victoria Spaceport. He had been awarded several decorations for valor and heroism. He was said to be a bit of a wild man off the battlefield, having shaved his head and had two rams horns tattooed onto his scalp after one mission, but his battlefield conduct was unimpeachable. He was a heavy weapons specialist, the essential member of the team for providing that most beautiful of things, covering fire. Ramsgoth favored the heaviest of weapons, the .50 caliber machine gun, rocket launcher and flamethrower. Unlike many of his profession, he was said to be reasonably accurate, putting most of his shots directly into the enemy, rather than just hosing the air down with lead.

After Ramsgoth was the lone female, Raine Belaruse. She was not affiliated with any military force, having grown up as a fully independent mercenary, completely self taught. Such people were quite rare, most either dying off early or joining one of the specialist organizations of a nation for protection, training or most of all, money. Belaruse was from the Eurasian Federation, one of the smaller, more troubled provinces. That no doubt accounted for her mercenary status; she was likely either a victim or a perpetrator of the violence there. Belaruse was a sniper and a truly impressive one by what Asmodeus had discovered. She was apparently capable of amazing things with any form of gun, able to shoot better with a pistol than most people could with a scoped rifle. Belaruse was also a specialist in unarmed combat, an unusual thing for someone who fought most of their battles from a great distance.

Finally, there came Victor Klien. Asmodeus had been not so friendly rivals with him for top fencer in the university team. Their matches were still watched as instruction aids there. Outside the fencing strip, Asmodeus hadn't known Victor very well, which wasn't surprising for several reasons. Their competition had bled over into normal life and they usually avoided each other, not wanting to get into an argument or fight and jeopardize their place on the fencing team. Also, Asmodeus was quite a bit older than Victor, nearly fifteen years in fact. After getting his doctorate degree in computer sciences and masters in psychology, Asmodeus had lost track of Victor, who was a chemistry major. That was mainly due to Asmodeus re-enlisting in the Earth Alliance armed forces as an officer. He had concentrated on his career for the next decade or so, until he met Cervantes Zunnichi and had joined Blue Cosmos and later became the head of security at CWM, where he was now. Apparently Victor had also joined the military, no surprise considering his competitive and disciplined nature.

Victor had become a demolitions specialist. He could build bombs out of household supplies with just a few hours preparation. He had reportedly kept up with his fencing practice and was known to go on missions still armed with his saber, an odd thing for a support specialist to do. Victor had joined the EFSF or Eurasian Federation Special Forces and had also served during the war. He hadn't participated in any major battles like Ramsgoth had, but had served with repute in several top secret missions that would probably never be released to the public. Mostly resistance type things, bombing supply routes, ambushing morale and welfare convoys, the usual stuff. _Knowing Victor, he is undoubtedly a source of friction within the team. He probably wants to be leader, but can't compete with the sponsor's background. He's probably fuming about it constantly._

"A dangerous group. They have talent in spades." Asmodeus said out loud, leaning back in his chair and stretching. He wasn't as young as he used to be. Sitting in front of his computer screens for a marathon intelligence gathering session wasn't so easy now that he was in his forties. Asmodeus bent back to his screens and sent the information packet to Cervantes's computer. "Victor… it's been a very long time since I thought about you." Asmodeus mused. "I wonder if you tried to keep tabs on me too?" It was more than likely. If no one else had, Jones certainly had done so. Asmodeus didn't recall Jones very well, though he knew the Major had been a bit of an idealist, not the sort who usually became commandos. Asmodeus did know that Jones probably didn't like him very much, since Jones's family had been in an area that Asmodeus had been in charge of evacuating during the energy crisis, but Asmodeus had diverted his men to protect one of Mr. Zunnichi's estates instead. Asmodeus shrugged. Such were the winds of war. If Jones was rational, he would have placed the blame where it belonged, on the Coordinators who dropped the N-Jammers to begin with.

"I'll have to get my very best men on this." Asmodeus said out loud. "The Lieutenant and Sergeant Glory, of course. Also a few of their men. They're guarding Argyle right now, but this is more important. I'll have to get in contact with some of my old unit, and with the EFSOU sponsors. Doubtless they'll be able to provide me with the equipment I'm going to need as well. It's been a while since I've done counter-terrorism against truly worthy foes." Asmodeus said with a wide grin. He placed his fingers lightly on his keyboards, pausing to savor the moment of anticipation before starting his inquiries and requests. The day was far from over. Still so much to be done.

-------------------------

"All right, we're on our final approach to Orb International Airport. We'll be landing in about ten minutes. Is everyone ready?" Alkire said over the intercom. Vlad was doing the standard talk with the control tower, checking wind speed, runway numbers and landing times. It was a process that always needed to be done when landing safely. Or at least, landing safely without provoking hostility from the government. Right now, Alkire wanted everything to go by the book. They needed this to go like clockwork. "You have the landing." He told Vlad.

"I have the landing." Vlad replied. In truth, the autopilot could have handled the landing, but a human hand was always reassuring, and besides, Vlad had no other better thing to be doing at the moment. Alkire headed back into the passenger compartment. Everyone was already in their disguises. Well, most of them weren't really disguised at all. Nobody knew who Ysak, Dearka, Chanel, Miriallia or Katie was, so they didn't require anything. Kira and Lacus might be recognized, but clothed in a dark business suit and a black dress and veil respectively; Alkire doubted anyone would look twice. Everyone else wore funerary clothing as well. That had been Alkire's plan. He had two large coffins in the cargo area of his plane. Well, they weren't actually coffins but rather were drop boxes used for supply drops in places without airstrips, but they did look a lot like them.

Cagalli and Athrun were lying down on the cabin floor, dressed up as a dead rich couple. Alkire didn't expect the coffins to be opened, but just in case he had dyed Cagalli's blond hair black, and had her put blue contacts in, while at the same time dyeing Athrun's blue-purple hair blond and giving him brown contacts. To cap it off, Alkire would administer a mild sedative to them that would keep them completely still no matter how hard they were poked or prodded, and would also make their breathing very had to notice and make their skin feel chilled. "Is everyone ready?

"Yes. But I still think the sedative is unnecessary." Athrun complained. "I don't like the idea of being drugged and helpless. What happens if something goes wrong?"

"Given that you'll be locked inside a metal box anyway, I don't think it'd matter if you were pumped full of combat drugs if something went wrong. You'd still be helpless to do anything." Victor noted. Athrun shrugged that by.

"Okay, fine, good point. But what if they open the coffin and notice I'm not dead? I don't like the idea of just lying there while they point a gun at my head or Cagalli's. We're like hostages in a can." Athrun countered.

"How are they going to notice you aren't dead? With this sedative, the only way they'll know you're alive is if they take you to a hospital and run a blood test on you. Besides, I don't care how good an actor you are, if someone kicks you in the ribs, you're going to react. Period." Alkire replied.

"Why would they kick me in the ribs?" Athrun asked.

"To make sure you're dead, of course." Alkire said. "Look, none of this is likely to happen. They probably won't even open the coffins. People are usually pretty respectful toward the dead, especially here in Orb. Very few people are suspicious enough to inspect the dead bodies of two Orb citizens coming home for burial. But this is just for the outside chance. Just in case. To be totally safe." Alkire signaled briefly to Raine and James, who knelt behind Athrun and Cagalli. Before either teenager could react, they had been pricked on the neck with the sedative needles. "The subject isn't open to debate." Alkire told them.

"I'm gonna…" Athrun yawned. He tried to stand up but instead fell back onto the cabin floor. "Gonna… get… you… for this… Alk…ire." Cagalli didn't even manage to say a word; she just collapsed straight to the floor.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will, Athrun. Just do it after we get you into the country unnoticed. Perhaps you'll have calmed down by then." Alkire replied, though Athrun couldn't hear him. "What about the rest of you? You know what to do?"

"Yes. Ysak and I will help Vladimir and James carry Cagalli's coffin, while you, Victor, Kira and Raine carry Athrun's coffin." Dearka replied.

"Meanwhile, Chanel, Katie and I will act the part of bereaved friends and family." Lacus answered.

"Was it really necessary to sedate them like that?" Kira asked doubtfully.

"Tell me, you're her brother. What would Cagalli do if you poked her in the stomach like this?" Alkire asked, moving over to Kira and poking him hard with one finger. Kira let out a small gasp of discomfort and twitched away. "You knew what I was going to do and could see me coming. And yet you still gasped and twitched. What would it be like if you had your eyes closed and didn't know someone was going to poke you?"

"Cagalli'd probably smack you. I guess I see your point. But sneaking up on them with the needles like that wasn't very nice." Kira replied.

"We didn't have time to argue. We'll be on the ground in a couple minutes and theres still a bit of prep work to be done." Alkire responded. He turned and strode aft into the cargo compartment where the coffins were. He made sure all of the team's gear and weapons were packed down tight into the false bottoms of the coffins before closing the "bottom" over them. Thin lead sheets plated around the false bottom would prevent it from being discovered via X-Ray examination. Final check completed, Alkire called back to James and Raine. "All right, bring the corpses in."

It took only a few minutes to arrange the comatose Athrun and Cagalli into poses of peaceful rest. Alkire closed the coffin lids himself and locked them with a set of keys from around his neck. He then draped two authentic Orb flags over the tops of the coffins. "All right. Two distinguished Orb corpses, coming right home. Hopefully this'll work better than the last time I tried this little stunt."

"What'd you say? You were mumbling." Kira asked.

"Nothing. Just a little prayer for good luck."

"I thought you said you didn't need luck, you were so skilled at this sort of thing." Ysak commented nastily.

"Everybody needs luck, despite what I may have said as a confidence booster." Alkire said. With a screech of tires, the jet set down on the runway with barely a bump. "All right, to your positions, everyone!" Alkire ordered. As the jet taxied to its parking place, everyone gathered around the coffins and waited. Alkire tried to keep everyone calm by telling quick jokes and funny stories, but he could tell that everyone was still nervous. Not that he blamed them. If something went wrong, it wouldn't go wrong in a small way. This plan was all or nothing. Finally, the jet reached its designated parking area and Vlad completed the post flight check and joined them in the cargo area. Alkire took an instant to recompose himself. "Showtime." He said quietly and hit the cargo ramp button.

As one, the coffins were lifted and slowly carried down the cargo ramp and onto the tarmac. It was slow going, the coffins were made of durable but heavy metal, and there was a body in each one, plus nearly sixty pounds of weapons and gear secreted in the bottom of each as well. Fortunately, they did not encounter anyone on their way across the tarmac to the customs building. As Alkire had hoped, the airport was far too busy and their jet much too insignificant to warrant an escort by security or even anyone to greet them. The fewer times they encountered other people, the greater the chance of success. Alkire had called ahead during the flight and a private hearse was waiting for them on the other side of customs, assuming they got through. Reservations were also booked for the "funerary party" at a five star beachfront resort several miles from the airport. Alkire had debated reserving a less public venue for them to stay at, but a hearse parked outside a motel inn or airport hotel would attract far more attention than just being able to drop the coffins off in the basement of the five star resort while the "funerary party" recuperated from their wearying journey before moving on to their final destination.

Alkire led the group over to the customs inspection room and respectfully lowered the coffins to the floor. Alkire quickly removed the counterfeit documents Raine and he had created that provided identities and dates and locations detailing the "funerary party" and their travels in bringing the two corpses home. Included in the documents were false certificates of death and a brief record of what Athrun and Cagalli's alter egos, Mr. and Mrs Amazai, had been up to before they died. A team of bored looking inspectors came over.

"Documents?" one asked. Alkire handed over the documents. The man read over the papers carefully. Alkire waited him out. He was familiar with the ways of customs agents. The agent was being deliberately slow, waiting to see if any member of the group would become nervous or agitated. Alkire casually glanced over at his group. A TEMPEST member was standing near each group of teenagers, to make sure they remained calm. Alkire smiled ever so slightly and turned back to the customs agent.

"Your documents seem to be in order Mr… Amazai?" the agent said. "You related to the deceased?"

"I'm Mr. Amazai's older brother, sir." Alkire replied. The agent nodded, not very interested. "Everyone else is family or close friends of the deceased." Alkire explained.

"Uh huh. We'll inspect the coffins now. Please stand away from them." The agent ordered. Alkire nodded in acknowledgement and motioned for everyone to move away, which they did with admirable calm. The team of agents moved over to the coffins and began their visual and tactile inspection. "Metal coffins?" the senior agent asked almost immediately.

"It's been a long trip, sir and I wanted to be sure the bodies were undisturbed. My brother and his wife will be transfered to more appropriate resting places for the actual funeral." Alkire answered smoothly.

"You don't seem too broken up about it." Another agent, this one female, noted. Alkire turned to her and gave a very small smile.

"Miss, my brother's death troubles me greatly. I have not even begun to mourn for him or his lovely wife. But breaking down in public would do nothing but dishonor their memories. My brother and his wife were very gentle people; they would not want others to be overly sad over their passing." Alkire replied.

"What was the cause of death again?" the woman asked, running her hands carefully along the bottom edge of Cagalli's coffin while her fellows lifted the coffin so she could get underneath.

"Hypothermia. They were on a skiing trip in Scandinavia and got caught out in a storm. Their protective garments weren't enough." Alkire summed up in a tight voice, acting like it was a raw and painful thing to say.

"All done here." The woman said. "The coffins are legitimate. I just want to take a quick look at the interiors. The bottom looks a little thick for a coffin, but I'm no expert so I want to do a quick visual."

"Whatever you say, Sue." The senior agent replied. He bent down over Athrun's coffin and and then looked up at Alkire. "Keys, please. We won't disturb the bodies; it's just a quick visual inspection."

"Of course." Alkire said. He removed the keys from around his neck and unlocked both coffins. Alkire noted Kira starting to tense up a bit and he sent James a nearly invisible hand signal. Jame clamped a hand solidly down on Kira's shoulder and pulled him close, as if comforting a fellow mourner. Alkire helped the customs agents pull the lids of the coffins open.

"Nice wedding ring." Sue said, flicking her eyes at Cagalli's engagement ring.

"My brother was a very successful businessman, and he loved his wife dearly." Alkire replied. Sue grunted in acknowledgement and continued her visual inspection. Alkire wasn't too worried. The false crate bottoms had been designed by the best in the espionage business. They were designed to pass any inspection short of fully disassembling the crate itself into its base components. Finally the customs agent was finished with her visual inspection.

"They're clear. I'm sorry for taking so long but we have to be sure no one tries to smuggle anything into the country. Even inside the coffins of two respected citizens." Sue said in apology. Alkire shrugged it off.

"I'm glad. But we must be going now. The funeral is in a few days, and my family and friends and I need to get to the hotel, so we can meet up with the family and friends here. Thank you for your time, inspectors." Alkire said. He beckoned and everyone lifted the coffins again and carried them out to the hearse. The hearse driver helped them load the coffins into the back of the hearse and then drove off with James and Victor riding along to make sure the coffins were taken to the correct hotel. Everyone else piled into a pair of limousines for a ride to the resort as well. Alkire motioned for everyone to remain silent for the duration of the ride.

Kira and Lacus looked around at the still devastated countryside. Though most of the fighting had taken place around Onogoro Island and Kaguya Island, on the other side of Orb, there was still damage here as well. The Earth Alliance hadn't occupied Orb for long, since they had lost the reason why they came, the mass driver, but it was evident that the brief stay had been quite rough on the nation of Orb. Buildings had burn scars and blast marks on them, and many trees were nothing but jagged stumps or heaps of charcoal. Everyone remained very tense and quiet until they reached the resort. Vlad and Raine hustled everyone up to their suites on the top floor while Alkire went to the basement to find Victor and James already waiting for him.

Victor and James led Alkire to the basement storage room where the coffins were laid out on two sturdy tables. Alkire checked the room for survellience devices, drawing a sniff of disdain from Victor. "Just checking, myself." Alkire explained. "You wouldn't like it if a battalion of security gaurds charged in here the moment the bodies got up, would you?"

"You are sometimes too paranoid even for me, Alkire." Victor replied. "Besides, James and I have already swept the room thoroughly."

"Are you saying that you wouldn't have checked, if you were me?" Alkire retorted.

"Hey now, lets just let the kids out of their coffins. You guys can get into a fist fight over espionage etiquette later." James cut in. Alkire nodded and Victor sniffed again, but they let it drop. It was the work of moments to unlock the coffins and administer a stimulant to Athrun and Cagalli to wake them up.

"Are we through customs and safe?" Athrun asked, his eyes still closed. Cagalli groggily sat up in her coffin and rubbed her neck where Alkire had injected her.

"Yep, completely free and clear. It was a breeze." Alkire replied.

"And we're in the resort now?"

"Yep. If you'd open your eyes, you wouldn't need to ask questions, you know?"

"Yes. But I'm still trying to calm myself down. I did not appreciate you putting me to sleep like I was some sort of inmate."

"Geez, you're still mad about that?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Dunno… never happened to me. Usually I'm the smooth talking leader, not the sedated pseudo-corpse. I think I can see why someone might not like being drugged and carried insensate into a potentially dangerous situation though."

"I'm so glad you can see my view point." Athrun said, finally opening his eyes and sitting up. He glared at Alkire intensely. "Don't do it again. We're getting out of the country in another manner."

"Of course. Now, would you mind getting out of the box? We need to get the gear out of there." Alkire agreed politely. Athrun climbed to his feet and stepped out of his coffin and then went over to help lift Cagalli out of hers. Being a natural, her immune system wasn't as equipped as his for throwing off the effects of the sedative. James and Victor quickly and efficiently removed the lids to the false bottom of the coffins and lifted out all the TEMPEST member's gear, which they just as quickly packed into suitcases and duffel bags that they had bought from the resort gift shop upstairs. In less than five minutes all the gear was stowed, the lids were back on the false bottoms and the coffins themselves were shut and locked.

"We're done here. James and I will take the gear up to our suites." Victor reported.

"Good job. I'll be up in a bit." Alkire replied. He then turned to Athrun and Cagalli. He handed them two electronic key cards, their cell phones, two wallets with lots of paper cash and false IDs, and a vacation travel brochure. "The keys are to your suite, up on the fifteenth floor. Your friends and us are the only other ones up there, so you can relax up there if you want, but just remember not to call each other by your real names anywhere else. There aren't too many people named Athrun or Cagalli you know, and your visual disguises won't hold up against a trained police check for long.

"Thank you. But what are we supposed to do now?" Cagalli asked. Alkire grinned and placed a hand on his chest.

"You guys and the rest of your little group are going to take some well deserved R and R here on the beach. Rest up and revitalize yourselves for the future. We're going to need all of you in top form when we find out where Kisaka is. All your stuff should be upstairs by now and if not there's a little more than eight hundred dollars in each of your wallets, more than enough to buy whatever clothing or whatever else is necessary." Alkire explained.

"What about you, what are you going to do?" Athrun asked.

"Me? I'm going to go soak up the sun and the local scene. Vlad'll come with me and hopefully by this time tomorrow we'll know not only what prison Kisaka's in, but what he's eaten for the past few days and some other little details."

"What food he's eaten? Why is that important?" Cagalli asked.

"It isn't. But he'll be a lot friendlier if we bring him some nice things to eat. Prison fare is pretty bland, you know. Sorry… commando humor. You two just go off and have a good time. I'll call you both when I find something out." Alkire replied before heading off to get changed. Athrun and Cagalli quickly followed suit, glad to get out of their coffin garb.


	24. Playful day at the beach? part 1

"Attention!" the Orb National Guard commander called as the door to Cervantes Zunnichi's private transport jet slowly opened and the automatic stairway descended. The two rows of ceremonially dressed soldiers snapped sharply to attention and saluted. Cervantes looked out the door and managed to hide his grin. "I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome." He mumbled out of the corner of his mouth to one of his bodyguards, one of the elite Hellhounds of EFSOU that operated under Asmodeus's direct command.

"You… or rather the Earth Alliance… is more popular here than you would think, sir." The man replied.

"Really? I guess that makes things easier. Right then, lets not keep them waiting. Holding a salute for dignitaries is not a pleasant task." Cervantes said with a short laugh before heading down the stairs into the early morning sun. He quickly passed through the side honors being rendered to him and entered an official EA ambassadorial limousine. His four man security team piled in behind him, followed by a plethora of aides and other minor administrative drones getting into other cars that formed the EA official convoy.

"Hmmph. I wonder how many of them would be waving so ferociously if they knew about the occupation forces coming in behind me?" Cervantes said once he was inside the secure car, looking out at the crowds of Orb citizens that lined the side walks along the convoy route, shouting and waving hands and hand lettered signs of welcome.

"Many of them would be, sir. According to Captain Sark's most recent intelligence findings, Orb is decidedly pro-Alliance right now. After the war their economy wasn't as strong as it used to be, due largely to loss of their primary resource source, the colony Helipolis. Also, much of their advanced manufacturing capabilities were devastated during the initial invasion and occupation during the war. Their entire military has had to be built up from the ground up again in these few short months. Also, because of the situation with their former leader, Ms. Yula Attha, their political body is wrecked. Orb is weak and the EA is offering them strength, sir. It's no surprise that the EA is so popular."

"A fine analysis. You are a citizen of Orb yourself, aren't you? What do you feel, taking into account the fact that you know about the impending second occupation?" Cervantes asked.

"A former citizen, sir. As for how I feel, I'm glad. Orb has been through some troubled times. The country is too weak to stand by itself. Perhaps if Lord Nara Attha was still alive, Orb could remain independent, but with the current weak leadership the country is doomed unless it can find aid in getting the economy restarted and infrastructure rebuilt. And the best source of that aid is the Earth Alliance. Some people will of course protest to the idea of being an occupied territory, but the influx of wealth and trade will quickly silence them. Also, when the soldiers of the occupation force help in the reconstruction, all doubts about the Earth Forces's intentions will be gone." The bodyguard replied.

"Are all of you Hellhounds so politically versed?" Cervantes asked, a little amazed. The man smiled and his comrades nodded slightly.

"You don't get into the Hellhounds just because you can pull a trigger or pick a lock. Captain Sark requires all of us to pass monthly exams on the current world political state at the national and global levels, economic conditions world wide and current technology in dozens of fields. Of course, we're more than proficient at the arts of killing, but you know that already sir. I'm not even particularly adept at politics by our unit's standards. If you want a real debate or in depth analysis, you'd need to talk to either the Lieutenant or Sergeant-Major Glory."

"I'm glad you're on my side, in any case." Cervantes said with a laugh. The conversation died down after that. Cervantes didn't usually talk with the help, even though this last exchange had been most helpful. The convoy passed by a beach area where crowds of teenagers fresh from school or young adults just out of work were relaxing on the sand or playing in the water. Soon they were in the city itself, passing through an outdoor market before finally reaching the Orb governmental building where the political rally… really just a front for Cervantes's announcement of Orb's annexation… but in any case where the rally was due to start in several hours. Cervantes and his guards hurried out of the car and into the building, going to one of the side rooms off the main meeting hall to put in the last minute fine tuning and planning that Cervantes's speech would need. Cervantes took a short break to put in a call to Asmodeus.

"This is Captain Sark speaking." Asmodeus said, looking up from his computer screens to face the tele-communication system mounted in one of his office walls. "Oh, good morning, sir."

"Good morning to you too, Asmodeus. I trust you've been well since last we spoke?"

"Yes, sir. You received my files on the members of the terrorist group that has been attacking Blue Cosmos?"

"Yes. Some frightening individuals in that group, Asmodeus. Very frightening. Have you had any success in tracking them down?"

"I've managed to connect them all together in Switzerland but from there the trail is mostly blank. The stealth systems on the transport jet they used are EFSOU spec, probably stolen by Major Jones. However, I have had some recent successes. A jet nearly identical to the one they used to flee from Switzerland was recently reported as having been spotted in Hawaii, yesterday in fact. Apparently the jet in question nearly destroyed a tank leading a relief convoy to Pearl Harbor. The report is a bit confused. The tank commander makes it sound like the jet nearly rammed his tank, which seems a little far fetched to me."

"Where did the jet go from Hawaii?" Cervantes asked.

"Tough to know sir. They activated their stealth system again. Given the capabilities of that class of jet, they could be anywhere from Alaska to Carpentaria by now." Asmodeus replied calmly.

"So really you're no closer to getting rid of them than you were after you found out who they were?" Cervantes asked. Asmodeus sighed.

"I'm afraid so, sir. These people are very skilled. Leaders in their fields. They won't be found as easily as previous opponents and they won't go down quietly either." Asmodeus replied.

"You will find them." Cervantes did not make it a question. "And you will then kill them."

"Yes sir. This is nothing but a delay. They will be found and they will be eliminated." Asmodeus replied stiffly.

"What of Frost? Has he returned yet?" Cervantes asked.

"Yes, sir. He's currently under post-combat sedation and restraint. You remember how violent he was after the simulators? Well he's much worse than that after real combat. We lost nearly a platoon of security guards getting him from the hanger to the medical room." Asmodeus replied, rubbing his forehead to clear the ache.

"Un-sedate him." Cervantes ordered.

"What?"

"Un-sedate him and bring him here. You should come as well, piloting the Purifier. Bring the Fury as well. If you are efficient, you should be able to arrive before the occupation forces."

"Um, excuse me for asking sir, but why?" Asmodeus asked.

"The velvet glove and the iron gauntlet." Cervantes replied with a superior smile.

"Sir… I've been up for the past forty two hours straight. I beg a little more clarity, please."

"A little plan I've got going. The last time the people of Orb saw the Freedom… or the Purifier now… it fought valiantly in defense of their country. Imagine what a boost it will be if the Freedom came down like an angel from the blue and sanctioned what I… and the Earth Forces… will be saying? They'll go wild." Cervantes said confidently.

"Two more questions, sir. Why me and what of Frost?"

"I'll answer the second first. If, for some reason Orb rejects the occupation forces and what I have to say, then we'll need to launch an immediate invasion of Orb. And I don't trust that Regent Kisaka person or the current Orb government. Remember how unexpected their damn mobile suits were last time? They undoubtedly have a few new surprises prepped in case of another attack. With Frost and the Fury present, anything new they may have will quickly join the slag heaps." Cervantes replied.

"And why me?" Asmodeus asked, much more pushy than usual.

"I know you are tired and frustrated, Asmodeus, so I'll let that tone go this time. But you should speak more respectfully in the future." Cervantes warned.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, as for why you. For one, you are the pilot of the Purifier. For another, I may be setting YOU up as regent of Orb after it is ours and it is fitting for you to be there when it becomes ours. Finally, and most compelling, I've been getting this feeling."

"A feeling sir?"

"Yes. My intuition has been tripped, by what I don't know yet. I just have a good feeling about you joining me here in Orb. A hunch, you might call it."

Asmodeus considered that. On one hand, he was a very busy man, especially with this research, search and destroy mission Cervantes already had him on. He hardly had the time to go gallivanting off to Orb in the Purifier for a public relations boost. Weighed against that on the other hand was the fact that when Cervantes Zunnichi had a hunch, it was usually worth following up on. It was because of hunches and good feelings like what Cervantes had just described that Cervantes occupied his current position in life. And besides, Cervantes would probably just order him to do it if he refused anyway. "I'll be there as soon as possible, sir. I'll tell the Doc to wake Frost and send him to rendezvous with me outside of Orb waters in ten hours. We should arrive just as the rally is winding down and a good four hours ahead of the occupation fleet."

"That's good, Asmodeus. Who knows, maybe you'll find some clues related to your other mission while you're here. Maybe we can make time to visit former Regent Kisaka. He seems to have a relationship to our terrorists. He might be able to give us a few pointers." Cervantes said with a chuckle. Asmodeus smiled himself.

"That is a good idea sir, though I doubt he'll talk."

"Frost might be able to persuade him. And if not, then its past time that he left the stage. Permanently. There must be no alternative leaders for the Orbites to have."

"As you say, sir. Please excuse me, if I'm to make your deadline, I must leave immediately."

"Of course. I'll be awaiting your entrance eagerly, my friend." Cervantes cut the channel. "Now… to work again." He mumbled, calling his aides and speech writers back into the room. "I have a few things I'd like to work out in the third paragraph of page seven…"

---------------------------------------------

"Five serving eight!" the burly young man called out, sweat dripping down his bare tanned chest as he tossed the volleyball into the air before smiting it on the way down. The white ball sailed high in a ballistic arc that would bring it down in the far left corner of the other side of the sand pit. Or that was the burly youth's plan anyhow. However, much to his continued disgruntlement the ball was intercepted before it could touch the sand.

"Mine!" Dearka called, using both hands together to bounce the ball back into the air, redirecting it towards the net.

"I've got it!" Miriallia replied, positioning herself under the descending ball and setting it up with both hands in a push-like motion.

"And I'll finish it." Ysak shouted, with a wild grin. He jumped up and seemed to hang in midair next to the ball. Ysak glanced down at the three high school seniors on the other team. The two in front were already tensing up, having been on the receiving end of a spike from Ysak several times now. Ysak swung one arm down and slammed the ball almost straight down. The high schooler nearest the ball tentatively held up his arms to block but didn't even get close. The ball thudded into the sand on the high schoolers side of the net and the boy looked a bit relieved that he hadn't been in the path of the ball. Several of his friends had had to be subbed out to tend to bruised or bloody body parts after intercepting a spike from the thin youth with the massive scar and pale hair. "HAH! Our serve!" Ysak celebrated.

"Moron! What the hell are you so scared of? You're acting like a little girl!" the burly high schooler shouted at his teammate.

"B-but have you seen what his spike does?" the boy protested.

"Oh come on. What happened to your competitive spirit? It's just a little bruise. Man up!"

"Go Ysak!" Chanel cheered.

"Hooray!" Katie echoed from their position just on the sidelines of the beach volleyball pit. It was the morning of the day after they had arrived in Orb. Everyone had been too stressed and tired the day before to do much other than change out of their disguises and collapse into bed. But the next morning… today… that was a whole different story. Everyone had slept in till about eight or nine and then left in small groups to amuse themselves for the day. Alkire and Vladimir had left before the sun rose, off on their intelligence gathering, while Raine, Victor and James went off to do adult things somewhere else.

Dearka, Miriallia, Ysak, Chanel and Katie had decided to sample the beach, this being the first time in a long while that any of them had been able to relax near the ocean. The last time Dearka, Miriallia and Ysak had been near an ocean they'd been nearly constantly fighting and didn't have the time to enjoy themselves and Katie and Chanel had actually never been to a beach before. Kira and Lacus had gone off to tour the city and do some sight seeing alone, while Athrun and Cagalli… now named Aaron and Cindy… had disappeared into the crowds of people walking along the boardwalk next to the beach after walking down from the resort with Dearka and Ysak's group.

Dearka, Ysak, Chanel, Katie and Miriallia had spent some time sunbathing, some time talking, some time swimming in the ocean and were now competing in an impromptu three vs three beach volleyball tournament being run by a nearby high school. They were currently in the semifinals round. Ysak and Dearka were unsurprisingly their best players, though neither had really ever played volleyball before. Miriallia knew the game well, but she wasn't as athletic as Chanel and Katie were, so they rotated in and out of the game whenever one of them got tired or frustrated.

"My serve." Dearka said, taking the ball back to the far right corner of the pit. "Eight serving five." He launched the ball in an underhand serve, still not familiar enough with the game to serve overhand like the high schoolers and Miriallia did. The ball ascribed a tall arc that would end with the ball landing right in the middle of the other team's side.

"I'll show them how it's done! Set me up!" the burly youth ordered. He moved up to the near net position. His teammates bounced the serve back up and then set it right above his head, a nearly perfect set up. Clearly this was a well practiced event. The burly youth leaped up, his arm winding back like a coiled hammer. The restraints had clearly been taken off. Never one to back down before a challenge, Ysak leapt up as well, rising to meet the burly youth, facing each other at ball height across the net. Ysak could feel the other's dislike and watched in the brief flickers of time that always seemed so slow when you were truly having fun as the burly youth measured him for a target. Clearly the youth planned to pay Ysak back with interest for his spikes from before. This ball wasn't going straight to the ground, oh no, this one was going to be bounced off Ysak's head, perhaps smashing his nose in a spray of bright blood that would make the burly youth feel immensely better. Well, that was the high schooler's plan anyway.

Ysak never had been one to go along with the plans of the enemy. Or even his allies for that matter. The burly youth slammed the ball at him; the ball sped almost directly at his face. If it hit, it would certainly be painful. Ysak brought his hands up and smashed the descending ball back across the net, intercepting the spike in mid plunge. The ball cratered into the sand on the high schooler's side of the net, but not before it ricocheted rather painfully from the burly youth's chest, leaving a rapidly forming welt of epic proportions. "Our point." Ysak gloated. For a moment the burly youth looked like he wanted to come under the net to settle a personal problem with Ysak in a more personal manner, but the youth studied Ysak's massive facial scar once again and decided against it. Anybody with a scar like that probably wouldn't be someone he wanted to mess with.

The game was quickly finished up after that, Ysak's team winning fifteen to five. They moved on to the finals, but that wasn't scheduled to take place for another hour or so, to give both teams time to recuperate. Dearka suggested going inside to get some lunch, because the tropical sun was quite fierce that day. Ysak wasted no time in agreeing. Unlike his friend, he had very pale skin and he was pretty sure that he was already badly sunburned, even if the physical evidence had yet to manifest. He cursed the vagaries of sun block and ocean water under his breath as everyone headed across the boardwalk to one of the many restaurants and snack bars positioned along it.

"You're so talented, Ysak." Chanel cooed after they had sat down and ordered tall glasses of iced juice.

"Of course I am. I'm good at everything I do." Ysak replied instantly. Dearka muffled a laugh, which drew him a glare from Ysak. "What?"

"Yeah… you're just the best at everything, aren't you?" Dearka said, bringing his chuckling under control.

"What are you going to bring up this time?" Ysak asked nastily. Whenever Dearka saw fit to contradict him, it was usually because he was about to bring up some little factoid about Ysak's past that Ysak had forgotten about. Ysak tended to forget the embarrassing things that happened to him, usually because whenever he remembered them he got angry and moody.

"Oh… not much. Just that little escapade back in basic training…" Dearka began pleasantly. Ysak tensed. If it occurred during basic training then it wasn't going to be fun.

"Go on!" Katie pushed.

"Don't encourage him!" Ysak protested. "Which one?" he asked Dearka.

"The military bearing incident." Dearka replied. Ysak struggled to remember what that one was about. "Where you managed to talk yourself into standing an eight hour watch at attention during a scheduled rain." Dearka prompted.

"Oh… that's right… that's when I learned that making bets with you was a foolish thing to do." Ysak replied. "That's not nearly as bad as I was fearing."

"What's this?" Chanel asked.

"Ysak's most unique talent is the ability to almost instantly spoil the mood of any person he spends more than five minutes in the company of, as I'm sure you've noticed." Dearka began.

"Not really." Katie said.

"Not in my experience." Chanel added. Dearka shrugged that off.

"Whatever. Continuing on though, I made a bet with Ysak. I bet that he couldn't spend twenty minutes alone with one of our female fellow cadets without causing her to burst into tears. The penalty for the loser of the bet was having to stand the aforementioned eight hour watch at attention during the planned rain."

"And how did that go?" Miriallia asked.

"I won after eight minutes and seventeen seconds. She fled crying to her bunk room and wouldn't come out for the rest of the day. Every time she saw Ysak after that she always got pissed off and up tight." Dearka replied. "I was worried for a while after the five minute mark had passed."

"What did you do to her?" Katie asked Ysak. He glowered at everyone at the table.

"I didn't do anything to her. I merely pointed out some discrepancies with her appearance as related to military standards and gave her a few recommendations on how I thought she could fix herself to be more in line with what was expected of a soldier." Ysak protested.

"You pointed out discrepancies?" Miriallia asked.

"Sounded a little more like a large helping of criticism and a side of uncomplimentary opinions to me." Dearka said. Ysak shrugged.

"I'm sorry, but if you're going to be that sensitive about your appearance, you shouldn't be in the military, where your appearance has to fit within certain regulations." Ysak replied.

"Oh, come on, Ysak. Criticizing her over her uniform I could see, it was out of regulation. But those comments about her hair and her weight were totally out of line." Dearka retorted.

"You criticized her hair…" Katie began.

"…and her weight?" Chanel finished.

"I may have let something slip about her needing to lose a little weight." Ysak hedged. "And that she needed to choose a more appropriate hairstyle."

"Tell me no more." Miriallia said. "That poor girl. No wonder she was in tears. You're such an insensitive brute. You never make uncomplimentary comments about a girl's hair or weight. Not if you ever want female companionship."

"To quote your exact words, you told her "… and you could also stand to lose about thirty pounds. Or have you hidden a bunch of sausages under your shirt? And do you call that a haircut? You look like you stuck your head into a fan and turned it on high, and then smeared the remains with butter…", so I can also see why she was in tears." Dearka said gleefully. Katie giggled and a moment later so did Chanel.

"That is a funny image." Chanel whispered to her sister.

"Isn't it? I can hardly imagine a fat Coordinator with greasy hair." Katie replied.

"Coordinators don't have any special immunity against getting fat if you eat too much." Dearka hastened to point out.

"What about greasy hair?" Miriallia asked.

"Well… it wasn't really greasy. Just excessively gelled with styling products. She was really trying to look nice… she just over did it a tad." Dearka replied.

"You set me up for failure." Ysak said, intensifying his glare.

"Are you saying you truly believe that if it had been someone else you could have lasted the full twenty minutes? Back then I was the only person who could stand to be around you more than absolutely necessary." Dearka countered. Ysak considered that.

"Fine. Your point. Are you done yet? There are sure to be other things we could be doing while we wait for the next game, more productive things."

"Like what? I don't mean to rain on your parade, but normally teenagers at the beach don't have much to do besides just hang out." Dearka replied.

"Well, you can stay here and hang out then. Me, I'm going for a walk." Ysak informed everyone.

"Where?" Katie asked.

"Anywhere. No where. For a walk." Ysak answered. He stood up and paused. "Coming?" he asked Chanel and Katie.

"After we finish our drinks." Chanel said.

"You go on ahead. We'll catch up with you in about ten minutes." Katie added.

Ysak stared at them. "But not even I know where I'm going. How are you going to know where I am to meet up with me?"

"Follow the sounds of combat." Dearka commented to Miriallia.

"Look for weeping girls with greasy hair." Mir commented back. Ysak ignored them.

"You're forgetting about big sister Raine and Uncle Alkire. They showed us how to find people in crowds like this, even if you had no idea where they were. In case we ever got separated from them." Katie said more seriously.

"Though their methods are much harder than the one Katie and I use." Chanel put in before clamping a hand to her mouth quickly.

"Huh? What's that?" Ysak asked.

"Nothing." Both girls chorused. Ysak looked at them strangely but shook his head slightly.

"Whatever. I guess I'll see you in about ten minutes then." He walked out of the boardwalk drink stand and quickly vanished from view.

"So what's this special method you have for locating people that works better than the no doubt field tested and proven methods of elite commandos?" Dearka asked the moment he was sure Ysak was out of earshot. Katie glared at her sister, who seemed to shrink into herself.

"Nothing. A slip of the tongue. What Chanel meant to say was that we merely found a few ways to refine the methods we were taught." Katie said earnestly.

"Yes, that's right." Chanel confirmed in a small voice.

"What methods are those?" Dearka persisted. Katie switched her glare to him and for a very brief moment Dearka felt a strange sensation of profound unease wash through him.

"You wouldn't understand. If you want to know then ask Alkire. He'll be able to explain it to you." Katie informed him.

"Maybe I will." Dearka blustered, his sense of unease growing deeper and then suddenly vanishing as if it had never been.

"Now, now, Katie you know Uncle Alkire will never tell trade secrets to other people unless he has to. And before you ask, Dearka, he wouldn't want us telling you either. Sorry, but you've seen what he's like about secrecy. Suffice it to say that we won't have any trouble locating Ysak when we want to." Chanel cut in.

"What, you're psychic or something?" Dearka quipped. The unease returned at double intensity. Nobody said anything for a very long moment.

"No. We're not psychic. Psychic people don't exist, it's just a scam used to get money from the naïve." Chanel said at length.

"Let's go look for Ysak now. I'm done with my drink." Katie added. The twin sisters got up almost in unison, tossed money for the drinks on the table and then left. To Dearka it seemed that they almost made a conscious effort not to appear rushed.

"That was really odd." Miriallia commented when the twins had left the building.

"No kidding. They've both got at least a fourth of their drinks remaining. And that was nowhere near ten minutes." Dearka replied. He sipped his own after he spoke, the unease fading slowly away. "But then again, they're pretty weird all the time, you know. Speaking in turn, finishing each others sentences and all that."

"I've heard that sort of thing can happen with twins. They know each other so well they can tell what each other are thinking." Miriallia said.

"I've heard that too. But Chanel and Katie… well, I don't quite know how to say it… but they seem like they're hiding something, you know?"

"Yeah, I kinda got that feeling too. I've no idea what though. I really don't know too much about them. I mean, we're friends and have been ever since school in Switzerland and I know a little about them as people, but everything past about two years ago is just non-existent with them in regards to what I know."

"That was a very confused sentence."

"Probably because I'm pretty confused about them. They're nice, and sweet and very girlish and innocent at times. Yet they're also deadly soldiers who didn't hesitate an instant back in the forest where they killed all those Blue Cosmos terrorists. I suppose they're a little like you in a way, but really exaggerated." Mir said.

"Like me? Huh? How so?" Dearka asked, stumped.

"A nice guy who's also a soldier. Someone who can be very sweet, gentle and loving one day and a cold hearted soldier that mercilessly kills his foes on the battlefield the next."

"Cold hearted?" Dearka protested.

"It's not a flaw, love. I'd much prefer a cold hearted man who comes back than a reckless berserker that gets killed the moment he enters the battlefield."

"I guess I see your point. They're like a lot of people with gentle natures who fight in wars. They have multiple sides to them. The 'at peace' side and the 'at war' side at the very least. Though I'd say they're more like Kira used to be, back during the flight from Heliopolis. A nice guy who didn't want to fight most of the time, but an absolute monster on the field of combat when he had no other choice. Me, I'm not quite so bipolar, or so I like to think." Dearka said.

"Yes. But you're also right. They're both hiding something and its something pretty big, not just their secretly ferocious natures. I wonder if Ysak knows what it is."

"Even if he does, he'd never tell us."

"Yeah." Miriallia laughed shortly.

"What?"

"Just thinking. If you and Kira are the soft hearted kind off the battlefield and the monsters on it, then what is Ysak? A double monster? Or is he secretly a nice guy when he's fighting?"

"More the former. Much more. Nice is not a soberquiet I'd apply to Ysak lightly, and never on the field of battle." Dearka replied firmly. Mirillia sighed.

"What?"

"I'm turning into you now. Gossiping about all of my friends when they're not around. Next I'll be playing practical jokes on Lacus."

"You don't need to sound depressed about it!" Dearka cried. "Though if you're going to play a practical joke it'd be better to do it to Cagalli. Lacus is much too easy of a target. And her boyfriend… well let's just say I'd really, really prefer not to have to explain to Kira why I made Lacus cry, if you catch my meaning."

"Yeah. That's a little bit of an understatement. Mountains will quake, seas will part and nations will crumble if that happens."

"We should stop talking about this or I'm going to scare myself out of my volleyball skills."

"What skills? You get by on talent alone."

"Oh, that's it. Come on then, Ms. Doubtful. I'll show you some skills." Dearka said, putting money on the table to pay for the drinks. He took Miriallia's hand and pulled her after him, heading back for the volleyball pits.


	25. Playful day at the beach? part 2

Athrun leaned on the boardwalk railing and gazed out at the ocean. The water was slightly white capped because of a light off shore breeze, but the waves were nothing special, barely big enough to body surf on. Of course, he was no great judge of waves, as even the largest lakes in the PLANTS never really had waves even half the size of the ones he could see now. With so little gravitational pull from the moon, there were no tides in the PLANTS, and hardly any bodies of water large enough to have them anyway.

"I see why they call it the Pacific." He muttered unconsciously. "It's about the most peaceful thing I've seen in a long time." Not like his feelings, no not at all. Inside he was a raging tempest. Anger, determination, frustration, fear, shame, love, guilt, sadness and a dozen more besides, all warring for his attention. Sometimes his head hurt so much under the internal pressure all he wanted to do was either go kick a hole in the nearest wall or beat his brains out on the nearest table, just to relieve a bit of the stress. Of course, neither of those ideas was practical in the current sitatuion, so Athrun just stuffed the feelings back down inside him, to wait for a later opportunity to jump back up and renew their incessant gnawing at his soul.

"Appearances are deceiving." Cagalli replied from next to him. Unlike Athrun, she was not looking at the ocean; rather she was studying the crowds of people that slowly meandered their way past the couple's post on the railing. Having grown up in Orb, an island nation, Cagalli didn't really notice the ocean very much, except during periods of exceptional agitation or calm. When you looked out of your bedroom window every day and saw the ocean, it became more background than anything else. It was like space, for Athrun. Growing up on the PLANTS, he saw space all the time. It was nothing special to him. It was just a constant presence. But for Cagalli, space was still quite new and exciting, despite several long trips in it. "You should see it during a storm. We sometimes get a storm surge of ten or twelve feet during a rough storm. We'd be underwater right now, as a way of reference."

"Oh, did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah. Bit distracted, eh? You don't usually talk to yourself. Anymore, anyway."

"Now that I've got you to talk to, you're right. And I am a bit distracted, more than a bit really. I feel fit to burst. I don't know what it is; I never felt this way before, even during the most confused times, back when I was fighting Kira in space."

"That's not good. If YOU'RE at a loss, then what strong pillar of wisdom do I have to go to in my times of need?"

"I thought we had a mutual agreement. Something about me not always having to shoulder the burden or something? I can't always be the strong one."

"Ain't that the truth! Of course, I seem to be able to call to mind quite a few times when you haven't been the strong one." Cagalli said with a small chuckle. Athrun joined after a moment.

"Very true. If I worried about such things, my masculine pride would no doubt be seriously dented right now." Athrun continued staring out to sea. "So what are you looking at?" he asked a moment later.

"Everyone seems so happy and carefree here. It's hard to believe that a major battle was fought not too far from here less than a year ago, judging from how people are acting. Given the rather dire straits I know Orb to be in… leaderless… economically unstable… a political pariah… militarily weak… given all that, I'm surprised at how calm everyone is." Cagalli replied. "And that's not even going into the recent nuclear attack on Pearl Harbor and Frost's assault on Junius Six."

"Yeah, that's true. Given Orb's mix of Coordinator's and Natural's, you'd think there would be quite a bit of tension going around, especially amongst the younger people. But I don't sense any particular tension at all." Athrun said. Cagalli didn't say anything for several moments. "Still there?" Athrun prompted.

"Y-yeah."

Athrun turned at her distracted reply. "See something?"

"Yeah. Not something I thought I'd see here, given recent events. An Atlantic Federation ambassadorial limousine, complete with what looked like an entourage of government issue SUV's. I thought the Atlantic Federation had severed all diplomatic ties with Orb after Blue Cosmos's little bombshell at our expense."

"Shh… not so loud with those little details, love. Blue Cosmos hasn't done anything to Aaron and Cindy." Athrun whispered under his breath. "You're right though. I thought I heard that same thing. I wonder why the Atlantic Federation is here, now of all times."

"Maybe we can get Alkire and company to find out. After they find out everything else of course." Cagalli said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm frustrated too." Athrun replied.

"Yeah, I just don't like relying so much on others. I don't like feeling helpless."

"We only have to put up with it for a little while longer. And then, once we locate our friend, we'll be only a few hours from getting the resources we need to make a real difference. Then it'll be Alkire and company who are relying on us. That'll feel pretty good, after months of relying on them."

"True that. Let's go somewhere. I'm getting restless." Cagalli said suddenly.

"Where?" Athrun asked.

"Anywhere. Nowhere. Somewhere."

"Thank's for being specific. This is your home after all. I thought you might have had a specific destination in mind."

"Well, technically this isn't my home. My home is a good fifty miles away from here, on the other side of the island. I don't think I've ever even been to this city in particular; I spent most of my time either at home, school or Morganroete." Cagalli replied.

"Gee, and I thought **I** was sheltered. Shows what I know."

"Shut up. You're the one with the brochure, go look something up." Cagalli demanded, blushing slightly.

"Nah, I got a better idea. I remember reading somewhere that there are tours given of a certain residence on the other side of the island every four hours on certain days of the week, like this one. I think we should go do that. It should be a lot of fun." Athrun said brightly. Cagalli frowned, her mind taking a moment to shift through what she knew of tourist locations on the far side of the island.

"I don't know of any place like tha… hold it!" she cried. People turned and looked at her and Cagalli blushed again. She burrowed closer to Athrun who was smiling beautifically. "Are you INSANE?" she grated out in a fierce whisper. "You want to go take a tour of my HOUSE? Why don't we just go turn ourselves in to the police right now?"

"Oh hush, no one will recognize us with these disguises. Besides, I really am curious about your house. When last I was here, there was never any time for sightseeing, and you and I had yet to grow so close as for it to be proper for me to ask."

"Why are you curious about my house?" Cagalli asked as Athrun put in a quick

call to a local taxi service.

"Well for one thing, I'd like to see your room. Maybe it'll give me some insight into you."

"You mean you need more insight into my psyche?" Cagalli said dangerously.

"One can never have enough insight. Especially when dealing with someone as volatile as you on an intimate level."

"Volatile? What are you trying to say?" Cagalli said, her voice turning sweet and kindly. This put Athrun immediately on guard. Whenever Cagalli turned sweet, it usually meant she was about to attempt physical action of some sort sure to be painful in the short term, though frequently quite rewarding in the longer term. However, in the middle of a public beach boardwalk was hardly the place for that.

"Do you deny being volatile? How many times have you punched Kira or shot me or… need I go on?" Athrun said with a wide smile that he knew would bug her to her core.

"You just won't that incident in the cave go, will you? You never hear me complaining about how you tied me up and left me in that tidal pool, do you?"

"Only when you get angry."

"Shut up."

"Oh, that was creative. I can't think of a comeback for that one, oh no."

"You are deliberately provoking me, aren't you? You think you're safe, out here in public. We'll you're wrong. I'm not going to get angry. I'm not going to get flustered. You want to tour my house, fine, let's go."

"I love you when you're confrontational. Sure there's nothing in your room that'll be embarrassing? Stuffed animals, ridiculous dresses, pictures of childhood idols?"

"I won't let you get to me. I know what you're up to. I'm going to do the noble thing and rise above this pettiness." Cagalli said primly. _And wreak bloody vengeance later._ She promised herself. The taxi pulled up then and she and Athrun piled in, shooting each other intense glares and secret smug smiles that had their driver twitching nervously before they'd even left the beach area.

--------------------------------------

"Thank you very much, comrade." Vlad said as the man with the bright red shirt with lime green palm trees on it disappeared into the depths of the alley, happily ruffling through a wad of bills the size of a monkey's fist. Clad himself in a shirt of only slightly less eye smarting hue, a dark blue shirt with neon orange suns, Vlad turned and walked back to the street the alley stood off of.

"Learn anything?" Alkire asked casually from his spot, leaning against a brick wall to the side of the alley mouth. Alkire was dressed in light grey cotton slacks, with a loose white silk shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned and the cuffs open and rolled back to the elbows. A pair of small blue round sunglasses with gold frames settled over his eyes and an expensive cigarette hung from one corner of his mouth. For the day's intelligence gathering, Alkire's hair had been dyed strawberry blond and a false scar added along his jaw line.

"Why do you always get to be the suavely dressed guy? Why am I the one stuck in this…" Vlad struggled for words, indicating his long sleeved Hawaiian shirt and ever present heavy gloves. "… abortion of clothing style? I mean, I'm the only man with sleeves on the block, and nobody has had gloves but me all day long. I feel like some kind of mole-freak, who's been living under a rock for the past ten years and has only recently come out into the sunlight."

"Calm down, Vlad. We can't all be super sexy super spies like me. Besides, you've got the whole 'style of my own' thing going for you. Here, have a smoke. It'll make you feel better." Alkire said, pulling the pack of cigarette's from his pocket. Vlad quickly accepted one of the white paper sticks. Alkire lit it off his own cigarette and both men stood there for a moment, looking all the world like two eccentric friends out for a stroll in the summer sun. Of course, the cigarettes weren't just normal smokes; they had very tiny filtration devices built into the filter section, which completely screened out the smoke generated by the tobacco. They were one of many fine touches to Alkire's disguise repertoire, cigarettes that smelled and looked real, and even smoked real, but that didn't have any of the health risks of actual cigarettes.

"Ah, that's the stuff." Vlad said, feigning deep pleasure as he took a deep breath of filtered pure air. He and Alkire walked for almost a block before he spoke again. "Bleak Mountain Prison. Not the actual name, but that's what everyone calls it. Up near the center of the island. Lot of relatively recent volcanism in the area, lots of bare rock, thus the name. The only maximum security prison in all of Orb. Actually run by a subdivision of the military police. Not too many inmates, only a few old mass murderers and two or three crime bosses. Orb really is a peaceful and well ordered place, in the great scope of things."

"Pretty detailed." Alkire noted as they passed a hotdog vendor. "Hold on a bit." Alkire said, before ordering a foot long chili dog lathered in spicy sauce and onions.

"How can you stand to eat such a thing in this heat?" Vlad wondered.

"Armmph. I don't know what you mean. It's not that hot out. Only eighty or so." Alkire said after taking a large bite.

"Only eighty degrees Fahrenheit? Only. Huh, where I lived, at this time of year, we'd be lucky not to have three feet of snow already on the ground, with a wind chill factor of minus three." Vlad replied. They moved out of earshot of the hotdog vendor. "Kisaka is in cell one-nine-six-two, block delta, sub level three. About as far inside the bulk of the prison as it is possible to get. Someone doesn't want him to get out of there."

"Mmrrmph." Alkire nodded for Vlad to continue, chewing on his chili dog all the while.

"Security forces run to fifty guards, military police for all practical purposes. The post is considered something of a cushy one, so I doubt there'll be too many of the rough edged problematic types, but there's bound to be a few hot shots there. They've also got dogs, camera drones, fixed camera's, laser and infared alarm systems, spotlights galore, decentralized computer system, randomly shifting watch periods and ten meter tall reinforced concrete walls topped with electrified razor wire, which seems a bit redundant to me. To top it all off, there is an emergency response unit from the Orb Special Forces on constant alert standby, armed with military grade weapons and equipped with several all terrain high-speed combat transports."

"In short, it's a pretty well defended place." Alkire summed up.

"Yeah… I'd give it about a six point five out of ten."

"That's pretty good, by your scale."

"Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, with the proper preparations. That's assuming a team of me, you and Victor, with Raine and James as cover and emergency extraction. My contact was kind enough to hand over a disk with complete schematics of the prison, including ventilation, electrical and safety systems."

"The kids are gonna want to come along. Mrs. and Mr. Z for sure, maybe Mr. K, Mr. Y, Mr. D and Ms. K and C as well." Alkire pointed out. Vlad pondered that for a long moment.

"Must we take them? It'd be a lot easier if they just waited with the car."

"If we try to leave the Z's out of the loop again we'll all wake up with bullets in our brainpans. How long with the untrained help?"

"Forty five minutes at least. A, Y and D may have done special ops work before, at Heliopolis, but that was nothing to breaking into a max security prison to break out a high profile prisoner. Plus a large group runs that much greater risk of being spotted and is much harder to extract if things go south."

"I know that as well as you, Vlad. But we're just going to have to deal with it."

"Fine. But I don't want to hear any complaining if we all get private cells next to Kisaka in cell block delta to enjoy for the next several decades." Vlad sulked.

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic. We've never been caught before, have we?" Alkire said gaily. He paused. "Well… not been caught for longer than a week, okay."

"I was going to say…" Vlad said, having been able to call to mind at least a dozen occasions before that clarification. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. My contact mentioned something else of interest in passing. Apparently some Atlantic Federation bigwig is due to give some sort of rally speech before the Orb high council in a couple of hours. The whole nation is abuzz about it apparently. Ever since the AF cut off diplomatic ties due to Blue Cosmos's little stunt, Orb's been floundering in the world political arena. Many are hoping that this speech will announce a renewing of diplomatic recognition between Orb and the AF."

"That is pretty big. Your man say who the speaker is?"

"He didn't know any more than it was somebody on the war council. Of course, that's some serious political firepower right there no matter who it is."

"We'll have to tune in to the news tonight. Sounds like it might actually be something worth listening too. But for the moment, let's go have a drink and then let's head back to the hotel and do some preliminary planning from these schematics you have." Alkire suggested. Vlad nodded agreement before leading the way unerringly to the nearest bar.

--------------------------------------------------

"Why am I here? I HATE Orb." Frost complained for perhaps the thirteenth time. Asmodeus had joined him at the rendezvous point ten miles from Orb's territorial waters only ten minutes prior, and the BCPU had done nothing but mope and complain the entire time.

"Shut the hell up, Frost. I don't need this from you right now. I've slept three hours in the past fifty hours and I'm fed up to here with EVERYONE right now." Asmodeus snapped, wearily rubbing at his eyes inside the cockpit of the Purifier, which was hovering on autopilot about half a mile away from the Fury.

"Ooo… scary. I'm trembling, captain, can't you tell?" Frost mocked. Asmodeus killed the communication channel and leaned back in his chair and groaned. It had been a long flight, even with the autopilot. The Purifier wasn't designed for long distance high speed travel in atmosphere and Asmodeus was hardly the young man he had once been. Coming off the long research binge he'd been on, a ten hour seat of the pants flight at near sonic speeds across the Pacific Ocean had not done him a lot of good. He'd certainly regret this for the next week or so. And now, this verbal sparring with the infuriating Frost was close to pushing him over the edge. The remote self detonation switch for the Fury was starting to look mighty tempting. Asmodeus shook his head and pulled his mind out of the realm of fantasy. Curse it, but Frost was essential to the plans he and Cervantes had for the next few months.

Asmodeus re-opened the communication channel. "Let's get this over with. I'm not any more pleased to be here than you are. The rally begins in fifteen minutes; we should just barely be able to make it. I've got the leading elements of the occupation fleet on my sensors, they're right on schedule. They should arrive about halfway through the speech, just as planned. All Cervantes and I need you to do, Frost, is follow me down when I make my entrance and to be silent. You just have to look impressive. I'll do all the talking. Do not say ANYTHING, that is a direct order. And don't kill anyone, either. Not even by accident. If you're lucky, you'll get an opportunity to do some killing later… if this goes well."

"Whatever." Frost sighed, sounding extremely put upon. Asmodeus closed the channel and gunned his boosters, leaving a bright trail of exhaust sparks behind him as he accelerated to cruising speed and plotted in his course for the Orb council building. Frost fell in behind him as smoothly as a shark gliding after prey.


	26. Orb joins the Earth Alliance

Kira helped Lacus get through the tiny aisle to their seats. He and Lacus had been touring the Orb government center when they had heard about this important political rally that was being held in the high council chamber that night. Not having anything better to do, and quite interested in Orb politics, Lacus had wheedled Kira into reserving some of the last seats available, up near the top of the gallery. They had gone out to an early dinner at one of the many restaurants scattered throughout the government district before arriving almost two hours early to make sure they got their seats. As it was, they were lucky they did not arrive ten minutes later, for the gallery was almost entirely filled when they got there.

"My, everyone does seem very excited." Lacus commented, looking around. Kira shrugged agreement. He'd eaten a lot at dinner and frankly wasn't too interested in this whole speech thing. He'd been planning on something a little more exciting as a cap to the day's fun, something along the lines of a private moonlight walk along the beach and maybe a little more besides, but that whole fantasy had been derailed when Lacus had asked to go to this speech. Given how long winded politicians tended to be, Kira was sure they'd be lucky to get back to the hotel by three AM, given that the speech was starting at eight PM and it was a good two hour drive from the government center to their hotel.

"You don't seem very excited though." Lacus noted with some concern. "Anything wrong?"

_Hmm… besides the fact that I'm feeling full and not just a little amorous, but can't do anything about it because of all the crowds, no._ Kira thought darkly. "Just a little too much to eat at dinner." He replied.

"I told you it was too much."

"Yes, you did." Kira agreed before lapsing off into silence again.

"You're bored aren't you?" Lacus asked. Kira started. He hadn't thought he was that transparent.

"We don't have to stay for the speech…" Lacus began.

"NO!' Kira cut her off. "You wanted to stay for the speech, and it's high time we did stuff you wanted to do. You always give in. I may not be as interested in this as you, but I can take a few hours of fidgeting in my seat, as long as we're together. That's the important thing, that we're together."

"You're determined to have me assert myself, aren't you?" Lacus said with a slight giggle. "You'd better be careful or I'll start ordering you around. Just because I'm polite doesn't mean I don't have a practical side too."

"Believe me, the only person who knows that more than me is Athrun." Kira replied. A mechanical grinding caused him to look up. "Hey, look at that. They're retracting the roof. I guess they think the weather is nice enough for an open sky meeting."

"I guess you get a portion of your moonlight walk… without the walking part of course." Lacus observed.

"How…" Kira gaped.

"You dropped several hints, wanting to eat an early dinner… planning on getting back to the hotel before dark… you looked at the page of the brochure that talked about romantic sites to see." Lacus informed him.

"I didn't know I was under such tight scrutiny."

"You find it surprising that I can't take my eyes off you?" Lacus breathed, snuggling as close as their seats would allow, resting her head on his shoulder.

"That's a conversation ender if I ever heard one." Kira mumbled. _One of those unsafe questions._ They remained in that position for the next hour and a half, whispering nothings to each other and sneaking small kisses and generally disturbing everyone around them without noticing in the slightest.

-----------------------------------------

"Attention! The distinguished guest from the Atlantic Federation War Council will be taking the podium soon. We wish to thank you all for your patience and we wish to express our gratitude for the interest you have displayed in the workings of your national government." A speaker nearby crackled slightly with static, most non-Coordinators would never have heard it. Kira and Lacus sat up attentively in their seats. The minutes ticked by like hours, the packed gallery host to hundreds of whispered conversations. The energy and tension in the room was almost visible. Kira felt himself getting interested, almost against his will. Finally the appointed time came. Almost instantly, the doors onto the floor of the council chamber opened and a regal man indeed walked confidently out. He was dressed in the very finest business suit type clothing, but that was nothing special amongst politicians. Rather, what drew the gaze of not only the council members but those of the people in the gallery were the accoutrements.

The man was tall and broad shouldered and though plainly well past his sixtieth birthday, the man walked tall and proud, without the slightest hint of a limp or infirmity. His white walking cane seemed more a flourish than anything else, and the large yellow gemstone affixed to the top caught many an eye with its golden sparkle. A full head of snow white hair descended down past his shoulders and a similarly white moustache and goatee contrasted starkly with the tanned skin of his face. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire and Kira felt an electric jolt when he managed to catch a full on gaze into the man's yellow eyes. Lacus let out a small gasp next to him.

"He certainly has a presence." Lacus noted. The entire crowd, probably more than five hundred people, had gone stock still and silent from the moment the man had walked into the room. Kira couldn't help but agree. This was no government drone. This man radiated power.

"My friends!" the man said, in a voice that needed little amplification to reach Kira and Lacus way up at the top of the gallery. "My friends! My name is Cervantes Zunnichi. I am the head of Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers… no relation to Blue Cosmos." Cervantes announced ringingly. The crowd laughed nervously, caught a bit off guard. Kira and Lacus looked at each other in shock. Vanai's elusive father...

"I have come before you, the people of Orb, today as an emissary from the Atlantic Federation, with all the proper fanfare that implies." Cervantes continued with a smile. More laughter from the audience, genuine this time.

"Despite my position on the Atlantic Federation War Council, I have not come before you today with grim tidings. Rather, I have brought rays of new hope for you, the stalwart people of Orb. What is this hope, you ask? Well, before I reveal to you that, let us first take a candid look at Orb as it is today. Orb survived the war, but it was a close thing. No one can deny that. War is hell, simply put. Orb lost much, more than many. Your resource colony, destroyed several months into the war. Followed by the destruction of your mass driver and the unlawful occupation of your peaceful country. An occupation that was quickly rescinded, but the pain of that wound is not quickly forgotten. Am I not telling the truth?" Cervantes expounded. The crowd roared a garbled response, mostly consisting of people agreeing with him. Most were ecstatic to discover a politician who could talk straight and dirty, getting right to the heart of the matter, not beating around the bush and mouthing meaningless mush.

"Because of these tragedies…" Cervantes began to pace back and forth on the podium, using his cane to accentuate important words by either thrusting it upwards or cracking it down onto the floor. "… these despicable tragedies, your nation's economy has been crippled. Sad, I know. Painful, I have no doubt. But that is the facts. And as if that wasn't enough, you are also in the process of reconstructing your military, as is the right of any sovereign nation. Barely had you the time to bury the heroes of the last war and barely had the mourning properly begun when calamity struck once again!" Cervantes cried, slamming his cane down on the word "calamity".

"If your proud, beneficent nation had had strong leadership, perhaps you might have been able to sort through the wreckage and rise from the ashes, like the legendary phoenix. However…" Cervantes beat his cane so hard against floor Kira expected it to split in half. "… however, you were BETRAYED in your time of need! Instead of working to rebuild this great nation, your leaders concentrated on THEMSELVES! They enriched themselves! They hid things from the public! They engaged in scandalous and illegal affairs and attempted to hide them from the public eye in their SHAME! They sought to use the peace process for their own ends, not considering in the slightest how their warping would affect the people of their great nation and indeed the people of the WORLD!" Cervantes was in full flow now, roaring his speech, stomping back and forth, swinging his cane like a madman, and preaching to the crowd, reaching out to the crowd, practically glowing with energy and conviction. The high council members were looking decidedly uncomfortable at this flaming and direct critique.

"As a result of this criminal and immoral conduct, world confidence in Orb has been dealt a STAGGERING blow. The peace talks, our one final hope for the security of the future have all but collapsed! Is that Orb's fault? NO! Is that the PLANTS fault? NO! It is the sole fault of your former leaders. You have already taken a step in the right direction, people of Orb. You have arrested and confined those whose falsities and scandals so harmed your great nation previously. But there is MORE that can be done!" Cervantes paused for a drink of water. The crowd in the gallery was going nuts, eating his words up like fine food.

"Holy shit." Kira muttered. Lacus nodded agreement. Rarely had she seen such a competent speaker, and never one so fired up. Even her father in his frequent plea's for diplomatic negations hadn't been this bombastic.

"PEOPLE OF ORB! Your feet are on the right path. You only require direction. My nation, the Atlantic Federation, is willing to offer you that direction as well as a great deal more. We are willing to forgive the transgressions of the individuals and re-welcome the proud nation of Orb into the circle of nations. We will help you rebuild your nation. We offer trade, economic benefits, political support and disaster relief. What do we ask in return? Only what you would do ANYWAY! Cast off the filthy chains your slanderous leaders have CONFINED you in! Tear away the veil of lies and untruths that they have BLINDED you with! Step forward as a people and do the right thing!" Cervantes pleaded, his eyes practically alight.

"Cast these false leaders down from their pedestals and allow new leaders to rise, leaders who have the best interests of the people of Orb in their hearts and minds, not the sick desire for personal gain or worse, the desire to plunge to world back into the dark times of war. Impossible you cry. Never, you shout. But little do you know. But I will reveal to you a great truth that will cast the ray of light into the darkness. Here, in this report gathered by the free media of the world, I have conclusive proof that your former leader, Cagalli Yula Attha entered into a binding contract with the ZAFT military suppliers to create an entire new generation of death machines, created expressly for the purpose of killing the people of Earth. Each of these machines would have netted Ms. Yula Attha the tidy sum of five billion dollars. Not just a little retirement fund." Cervantes paused, as if waiting for laughter or comments, but if there were any it couldn't be heard in the ruckus.

Everyone was on their feet now, shouting and screaming, some in denial, some in support. Cervantes turned up his microphone. "It's all in the report! Verified by several independent sources. It will be made available in its entirety after my speech. Now, Ms. Yula Attha cannot be blamed for this fiasco. Not entirely anyway. The only blames that can be placed on the dear girl's shoulders is a shocking lack of concern for her nation's well being and a DISGUSTING degree of infatuation with a foul manipulator. Yes, I speak of none other than the son of that ZAFT demon who nearly destroyed the world. The son of Patrick Zala. Athrun Zala. Athrun Zala warped your fair princess. Twisted her to his own evil ends. Unsatisfied with his father's failed plan to annihilate the Earth via the Genesis laser, Athrun Zala turned to subterfuge to accomplish his nefarious ends. He SEDUCED your princess over the course of several months, before entering into a sham marriage with her, quite illegally mind you. Athrun Zala used his intimate acquaintance with the dear Ms. Yula Attha to arrange this heinous contract and to undermine the peace talks. For you see, as the recent events in Hawaii demonstrated, the PLANTS had no intention of keeping the peace. Pearl Harbor has been annihilated. Scoured from the surface of the Earth by nuclear fire… the very thing the PLANTS claim to hate so much." Cervantes lowered his voice so it was practically a whisper. The crowd was as silent as a hall of mutes.

Kira felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The venomous hatred evident in Cervantes's every word and gesture was like a physical attack. There was no way the man could bear Athrun such enmity, having never met him. It was like he considered Athrun his personal nemesis or something. Kira half hoped Athrun and Cagalli never saw this, though he knew that was unlikely. He'd hate to have this level of loathing directed at him… it hurt as it was, and it was aimed at Athrun, not him.

"The loss of Pearl Harbor is a blow, a blow indeed. But it has shown the world what the words of those traitorous bastards in the PLANTS are worth! Pleading mercy and forgivness on one hand, while readying a sucker punch with the other! We will not fall because of a single blow! We will not let them win so easily! NO, we will stand strong and tall against the onslaught of darkness, the darkness hiding in space, glowering down upon us with claws of nuclear fire. We will stand together! Will you, the people of Orb stand with us?" Cervantes held his arms out in a beseeching gesture. Nobody in the crowd said anything. A terrible silence fell on what seemed to be the entire nation. Kira twisted around suddenly in his seat, searching the sky.

"What is it?" Lacus breathed, concentrating on Cervantes.

"Thrusters. Mobile suit thrusters. Closing fast." Kira replied. Barely had the words left his mouth when other audience members began to notice the sound too. Soon the noise grew to a steady rumble, then a low roar. Finally, less than a minute later it built to a sky shaking thunder and seconds after that it seemed to drown out the world. Cervantes turned his microphone up as high as it could go, and Kira could still barely hear him.

"I present to you, the people of Orb, proof of the Atlantic Federation's good will! An undeniable presence has graced our ranks with his presence. A presence that is more than familiar to you, the people of Orb!" Cervantes bellowed. At that moment the mobile suit became visible, diving straight down from above the council building. Even at the distance of more than a mile, if closing rapidly, the mobile suit was unmistakable.

"The Freedom!" the cry came from one of the audience.

"Freedom! The Freedom has come back!" the chant spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"Who's in that?" Lacus asked. Kira couldn't hear her. He was still thinking the same thing though. The last time he'd seen this mobile suit, it was participating in an attack on Junius Six.

"Freedom!" the crowd cheered.

"Yes, the FREEDOM!" Cervantes cried back. "The Freedom, the mobile suit that so heroically fought to save your great nation durig the last war, has returned. Listen… LISTEN to what the FREEDOM has to say!"

Static crackled from the Freedom's external speakers. "People of Orb. Last time I was in this fine nation, we were all fighting desperately. For truth. For honor. For Orb. I helped protect Orb from its enemies, though in the end they were too many and I was forced to retreat. But I have returned. Returned to ask that you, the great people of Orb STAND with ME! Stand with us all! STAND against the darkness in space! STAND against ZAFT aggression! STAND against your false leaders. For your own Freedom!"

"Freedom!" the crowd echoed back.

"Freedom!" the man in Kira's mobile suit called again.

"FREEDOM!" the crowd screamed, entirely out of control. Even the baliliffs were in on it, shouting and gesturing as much as the civilians they were supposed to be controlling. The only people who weren't going crazy with fervor were the Orb high council members, who were trying to shout Cervantes down, and Kira and Lacus, who were in total disbelief.

"PEOPLE OF ORB!" Cervantes bellowed, taking the crowd back from his accomplice. "At this very moment an Atlantic Federation relief fleet is steaming into ports all over Orb! They bring supplies! They bring relief! They are your brothers and sisters, standing together with you, the people of Orb, for Freedom! How do we welcome them?"

"FREEDOM!" the crowd roared back. Cervantes smiled.

"There are those in this room who seek to take your freedom from you! They would have you go back into the darkness, back into servitude of their twisted schemes! Will you let them!"

"NO!"

"Will you do nothing?"

"NO!"

"Will you help me cast them down so you may be free, free to stand amongst the people of the world once again? Bind them in those chains they sought to bind you with! Blind them with their own veils of hatred! Step forth into the light and welcome your brothers and sisters of humanity! STAND FOR HUMANITY! STAND FOR FREEDOM! STAND FOR ORB!" Cervantes roared.

"FREEDOM! ORB! FREEDOM!" the crowd screamed, overflowing from their seats and pouncing upon the council members in mobs. The police did nothing to stop them, indeed more than a few led the charge.

"We need to get out of here." Kira said, grabbing Lacus by the arm. The Freedom reached down and Cervantes climbed into its palm. He was held over the boiling crowd, shouting down at them like a vision from hell… or heaven, depending on your viewpoint. Kira forced his way through the morass of people, dragging Lacus behind him. He was forced to resort to some of the unarmed fighting techniques James had taught him in order to get to the doors.

"This is scary." Lacus said, quite calm as she surveyed the riot from the doors. "I've never seen people so inflamed. I had no idea things were this tense in Orb. All it took was that man, Cervantes Zunnichi. Just a spark and the whole country is afire."

"He's a hell of a big spark, that man. And the Freedom… that was the clincher right there. When whoever is in the cockpit endorsed him, Cervantes as good as won. Makes me sick, how all the good things I do seem to get twisted back on me and my friends." Kira replied. "We need to get out of here though, Lacus. This place isn't safe."

Lacus nodded agreement and together they fled from the council chambers, the sound of the vicious riot taking a very long time to fade from their ears.

--------------------------------------------

"That man is a devil in human form." Raine gasped, still caught up in the almost tangible fury that had been flowing out of the television screen. She had been channel flipping after a long day of relaxation followed by a few hours of pre-planning with Alkire and Vlad after they returned from intelligence gathering.

"Well, this is just great. Orb has just welcomed Blue Cosmos into its heart with open arms." Victor commented darkly from across the sofa.

"He certainly knows how to give a good rousing speech. I was almost caught up with the whole thing for a bit there." James said.

"Just goes to show, hatred and fear really are the two greatest binding forces in the universe." Vlad added morosely.

"That was cynical enough to hurt." Alkire replied.

"Can you deny it though, given what just happened?" Vlad asked.

"Well, fear and hatred themselves have little binding force. But when stirred up and fed fuel like the rhetoric and bombast Cervantes was spewing, then you are totally right. He went right for the primal instincts in modern man… when there's a problem, blame the people in charge. Do everything you can to avoid taking responsibility yourself. Go for the quick and easy solution. Take the helping hand, without considering what you will be expected to give in return at some later point. There ain't any such thing as a free lunch, after all." Alkire responded.

"Everyone's living for the moment, without a thought for the future. Relief fleet. Hah! Occupation forces, more likely. Bringing food, medical supplies, helping hands… mobile suits, tanks, guns, munitions… heh, it's depressing how so few people are willing to look beneath the surface of what's happening." Raine put in.

"He knew the right strings to pull to get people to not look below the surface. They're all concentrating on Cagalli and Athrun and the PLANTS. Cervantes played those cards well. Let's hope Athrun never fall's into Orb hands after that speech… he'll be lucky if they don't crucify him." Victor said.

"Yeah, that was really a smooth move. He absolved Cagalli of nearly all the blame, since she's still really popular here. He made her out to be an innocent victim of Athrun and the PLANTS. And of course, there will be many who won't look beyond the Zala part of Athrun's name, more than willing to blame the son for the sins of the father." James mused. A phone rang suddenly. Alkire picked up his cell phone and listened a few moments.

"Yeah, we saw it too. It's all over the television. Every channel practically. Yeah, yeah. We saw the whole thing. Okay. Yeah. Glad you made it out okay. See you in a few hours. Goodbye." Alkire turned to the rest of TEMPEST. "That was Kira. He and Lacus got nose bleed seats at the high council chamber. They were there in person during the entire thing. They managed to get out after the crowd jumped the councilers. They're on their way back, but things are slow, of course."

"Glad they made it out safely." James said.

"Cervantes was kind enough to leave his Blue Cosmos dogma out of the whole thing, for the moment anyway. No one paid any real attention to two kids, even Coordinator kids." Alkire replied. He went over to the window of their fifteenth floor suite and looked out at the harbor. Troop and cargo ships from the AF Pacific fleet were pulling in as he watched, unloading thousands of troops and hundreds of tons of supplies. Strike Daggers moved along the docks, toting cargo containers like men would carry crates. "They're well organized. They had this whole thing planned."

"So what do we do?" Raine asked.

"Heh." Alkire snorted slightly. "This doesn't change a thing, though it might complicate leaving the nation. I hadn't counted on trying to evade an entire battle group from the Atlantic Federation. But that's in the future. We'll be leaving early in the morning, to a more suitable staging area closer to the prison. I believe Vlad already has a place lined up for us."

"What about the kids?" Victor asked.

"Call 'em in. I'll give them the news."

"Dearka and Miriallia are the only ones in the hotel right now." Raine replied.

"Where's everyone else? It's getting close to ten o'clock. Well, everyone besides Kira and Lacus anyhow."

"Athrun and Cagalli went touring on the far side of the island; they should be getting back any minute now. Ysak and the girls disappeared into the shopping malls around here at about noon and I haven't heard anything from them since." James answered. Alkire glowered at him.

"So much for hourly check ins. Shoulda known. Teenagers." Alkire picked up his phone again. Before he could dial anything, it rang. He answered instantly. "Ah, so you made it back. Good. Come right up. We need to talk. You seen the news? Heard it on the radio, eh? Yeah… yeah, I can imagine. Get up here, quick before she does something stupid. Wait… what? Uh… okay, hold on… I'll send James and Victor down to help. Just contain the scene until they get down there." Alkire cupped his hand over the phone. "Lobby, get there, now. Cagalli's going a little nuts." He put the phone back up to his head. "All right, just keep calm. Tell the manager that I'll re-imburse him for the damages later. Oh god. Wait… wait… don't! GODDAMN!" Alkire dropped the phone as if it had bit him. Victor and James were already in the elevator going downstairs.

"What?" Raine asked in slight concern.

"Sounded like really bad jamming. You know… the kind that squeals and shrieks right in your earphones! I'd guess Cagalli is either causing a bigger scene than I thought or she just broke Athrun's phone. Shoulda told Victor to bring some more of that sedative."

"Well, I can understand why she'd be a little upset." Raine said.

"So can I, but from I could make out, she really was out of control. We're just lucky the cops weren't called."

"That bad?"

"I've been in assaults that were less noisy. And that was over a PHONE!" Alkire replied, completely serious. They didn't have too long to wait. About five minutes later the elevator dinged open and Victor and James struggled out. They kicked open the door to the suite and half carried, half dragged Cagalli in.

"Christ, guys, be gentle!" Raine snapped.

"It's not worth the risk!" Victor growled back.

"She nearly tore one of the bellhop's faces off." James clarified. "And she got Athrun but good, just before we got down there."

"Is he all right?" Vlad asked with a frown.

"Sort of." Athrun replied from the doorway. He held a large bath towel wadded up to the side of his head, containing a rather large red stain that was slowly contaminating the fabric. Glass dust coated half of his head and his shoulders, and his clothes were pretty ripped and torn up. "My phone took most of it." He held up a shattered cell phone, also coated with glass dust.

"What did she do?" Alkire asked, shocked.

"Well, she was a little out of her head. Angrier than I'd ever seen her, even just after her father died. I'd managed to keep her reasonably calm during the cab ride, but it was clear that she was simmering." Athrun replied. "The bellhop touched it off. Said something about how he'd like to roast a certain Zala over a pit of coals. She's always been protective of me. That little comment was all she needed. I was in the middle of my call to Alkire at the time, so it took me a few moments to pull her off him. We struggled for a while, and she caused a bit of property damage… ruined a few chairs, knocked some people over. Then she seemed to calm down."

"And then?" Vlad prompted.

"Well, I released her, as she seemed calmer and went back to the phone call. That's when Cagalli grabbed a glass vase from the registration counter and started swinging it about. I tried to stop her but she kept out of my reach. She turned on me and caught me by surprise and well… clocked me on the side of the head with the vase. Which broke of course, after smashing the phone and giving me a nasty cut on the head. That's when Victor and James appeared and subdued her. That's all." Athrun continued.

"You subdued her?" Raine said dubiously. Victor and James had deposited Cagalli on the couch, where she was still struggling slightly.

"I had to use a modified stranglehold." James said sheepishly. "Cut off the blood to the brain. She'll come around in a minute or two. There was no helping it, she was like a mama bear defending her cub, there was no reasoning with her. And with Athrun already down and bleeding rather copiously, the situation had to be contained."

"I'm not blaming you, James." Raine assured him.

"Oh… good."

Cagalli chose this moment to wake up. She jerked up from the couch. "Aagh!" she cried before realizing her surroundings. She lay back with a heavy thump. "Oh god, I really did it this time." She moaned.

"Yeah… you did." Victor replied.

"Shut up, Victor." Raine pushed him aside. "Are you okay, Cagalli?"

"Yeah… oh god, ATHRUN!" Cagalli sat up suddenly again.

"I'm okay." Athrun assured her, stepping into view. Cagalli stared at his towel-bandage.

"Did I do that to your head?" she asked.

"You weren't yourself at the time, Cagalli." Athrun shrugged it off. "It's not the worst thing you've ever done to me."

"That doesn't make me feel better." Cagalli retorted.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I let my rage get the better of me. The things that man said about you…"

"So you're both sorry. That's good to have out of the way." Victor commented. Raine sent him a glare that had him backing from the room mumbling something about getting Dearka and Miriallia.

"We both know that he was lying through his teeth, love. We'll fix things, eventually." Athrun replied, sitting down next to Cagalli on the couch.

"Aren't you angry?" she asked.

"Furious. But there is little point in me beating up random people who don't know better. I'll save it for Cervantes Zunnichi." He answered.

"Well… on that positive note, let me give you both some good news." Alkire stepped forward. "Vlad's contacts got us quite a bit of detailed information on the prison Kisaka is being held at. We've already done a good bit of pre-planning. In the morning we'll be moving inland, to a more appropriate staging area, where we'll put everything together for the prison break. Kira and Lacus observed the whole speech in person, but they made it out fine and are on their way back. Dearka and Mirialla are already here. The only people we're missing are Ysak and the girls."

"We're not missing." Ysak said from the door. Chanel and Katie crowded close behind him, carrying several parcels and with mysterious grins on their faces. Ysak stared at Athrun. "Geez… he's not only a seducer, he's a brawler too. Guess Mr. Zunnichi left that part out." He joked lightly. Cagalli sat bolt upright and casually leaned over the coffee table in front of the couch. No one noticed her hand closing around the swan neck of the flower vase…

---------------------------------------

"An excellent speech, sir." Asmodeus said. "You had the entire nation eating out of the palm of your hand." He leaned back in the rear wraparound seat of the official limousine and sipped at a cup of rich coffee.

"Yes… I did, didn't I? I felt like a god, Asmodeus. No… not a god but GOD singular. I could have started preaching blood sacrifice and they would have gone along with it." Cervantes replied, still twitching slightly with pent up energy.

"You should have. Would have made this whole trip a lot more interesting." commented Frost, from where he was handcuffed to the far seat, near the window partition separating the driver from the passengers.

"Maybe later." Cervantes shot back, refusing to be put off his good mood by his minion. "How much longer until we reach the prison?"

Asmodeus checked his watch. "Ten minutes, sir. Are you sure you want to interview ex-colonel Kisaka tonight?" Asmodeus stifled a yawn. He was beat, and the caffeine from the coffee wasn't enough to fully offset that.

"This can't wait. I have a good feeling about this right now. I've already come so far, I think we're really close to a breakthrough that will put us in the winner's seats for sure." Cervantes answered.

"Okay, whatever you say, sir."

"You have doubts."

"Well… yes, sir. Colonel Kisaka strikes me as one of those fiercely loyal unto death sorts. He'd sooner bite off his own testicles than give us information." Asmodeus replied.

"That's a nice image." Frost put in. Both men ignored him.

"Well, that's probably true. There is the outside chance, however. And if nothing else, it will give Frost a chance for a bit of exercise."

"You just want someone to gloat to, sir, if you don't mind my bluntness." Asmodeus said.

"Ha ha… you're right. Barbaric of me, I know. It's the speech. Stirred up all sorts of primal instincts in me. I haven't permitted myself to get that worked up in over a decade. I've got this crazy urge to have a humiliated enemy lying broken and bloody before me. Atavistic, really. My blood is boiling."

"Do… you have these urges often, sir?"

"You know I don't. But tonight is a great victory. A giant step forward in the plan. Can you blame me for being excited? Aren't you excited? Didn't you feel the power when the crowd roared and chanted and hung on your every word?"

"I'm just tired, sir. I'm sure I'll be more excited after a good night's sleep." Asmodeus replied, having felt nothing of the sort.

"Of course. Just hang on for another hour or so, my friend and then you can sleep for a day, if you want."

"Eight hours will do, sir." The car lapsed into silence for several minutes, until the driver pulled into the prison yard. Several guards holding automatic rifles and holding the leashes of a trio of mean looking dogs came bustling up.

"Mr. Zunnichi?" one guard, who looked to be in charge, asked.

"That's me. This is my aide, Asmodeus Sark, and my bodyguard, Zacharis Frost." Cervantes volunteered, gesturing at Asmodeus and then Frost. The guard frowned when he saw how Frost was handcuffed to his seat. Frost smiled back at him.

"Why is…" the guard began.

"That's above your security clearance." Asmodeus cut in. He tossed Frost the key to the handcuffs. In seconds Frost had his cuffs off. Cervantes and Asmodeus quickly exited the car, Frost following slowly. "Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Asmodeus whispered to Cervantes. "What if he goes for one of them?"

"Too bad for them." Cervantes whispered back. "Sergeant." He said. The guard who had addressed them before looked over. "Please, keep your men well away from Zacharis. He's a very dangerous and slightly unstable individual. He's very protective of me. Do not approach closer than five feet to any member of my party and you should be fine."

The guard looked like he was about to say something, but then one of the dogs, the most vicious looking of the bunch, snarled at Frost. Frost, of course, just snarled right back. The dog retreated as if whipped, whimpering and hiding behind the guard holding the leash. The sergeant just nodded acceptance.

"You're here to see Colonel Kisaka, right?"

"Ex-colonel Kisaka, yes." Cervantes answered. "And I'd like to have a private meeting too. No cameras, no listening devices, no witnesses. You understand right?"

"I can't allow…" the guard started to say. Asmodeus laid a hand on his shoulder and led him a short distance away. They talked for a minute or two.

"Problem?" Cervantes asked when they finished.

"No, sir!" the sergeant said smartly. He turned to his detail. "You men are dismissed. Go back to your regular patrols. But avoid cell block delta. Nothing is happening there, understand. Nothing."

"Yes, sergeant." The guards chorused and then left, almost pulled along by the dogs who were quite eager to be away from Frost.

"Can they be trusted?" Cervantes asked.

"They understand confidentiality, sir. We've had a few sensitive prisoners here before." The sergeant assured him.

"All right then. Sergeant, lead on, if you would."

"Of course, sir." The sergeant led them through long hallways of pale concrete; through a half dozen steel doors and twice as many barred gates.

"Reminds me of home." Frost said, looking around. The sergeant jumped, clearly unnerved by Frost.

"Here we are, sir. Do you want me to show you to his cell or…" the sergeant said, indicating another steel door that had "Block Delta" stenciled above it.

"Just switch off the surveillance devices, if you would. And wait here and let no one pass until we leave." Cervantes instructed him. The guard saluted and tapped a few commands into a small keyboard he wore attached to his belt. "Very good, sergeant. The block is soundproof, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We shouldn't be more than thirty minutes." Cervantes said. He led the way through the thick steel door, which Asmodeus made sure was securely shut and locked behind them. "What did you tell him, that changed his outlook so?"

"I informed him that you were a high level interrogator from the secret service. I of course had all the proper credentials ready. They get visits from that sort of person episodically, because of the military nature of some of the criminals committed here." Asmodeus replied. It didn't take them long to find Kisaka's cell, number one-nine-six-two. Kisaka was lying stretched out on his cot, clad in standard grey prison coveralls, his head pillowed on his arms as he lay on his back. He was staring at the ceiling quite intently.

"Mr. Ledonir Kisaka?" Cervantes said.

"What do you want?" Kisaka replied instantly, turning his head to look at them. "Who are you people?"

"My name is Cervantes Zunnichi. This is my esteemed colleague, Asmodeus Sark."

"So, what brings the leader of Blue Cosmos and his intelligence director to my cozy cell at this time of night?" Kisaka asked. "Come to gloat?"

"We're here to ask a few questions." Asmodeus cut in.

"Feel free to ask." Kisaka replied. "Though I'm pretty sure you're both smart enough to know what my answer will be."

"We just want you to confess your sins. Admit to covering up for Ms. Yula Attha and her boyfriend, Zala. Tell the public you're sorry for betraying their confidence." Cervantes said reasonably.

"Like hell. I won't be a party to your schemes. Frankly, you disgust me, using people who sacrificed so much of themselves to save everyone from a war of extermination for your own selfish ends. Where does it stop, Cervantes? When will it be enough?"

"When all Coordinators are dead, of course. Mr. Azrael and I did not differ on that subject."

"What did the Coordinators ever do to you, to cause you to hate them so much?" Kisaka asked.

"Personally? Not a thing. It's more a principle than a personal loathing. Do you understand what they can do? They could replace us! Do you have any idea what it's like to have your greatest achievements surpassed by a boy of fourteen? Who makes it all look easy? Can you understand how frightening that is?"

"So extermination is the answer?"

"Of course it is. Like any plague, which breeds of its own accord, it must be burned ruthlessly away until nothing is left."

"You are aware of the difficulties Coordinators have with fertility after the first generation? They need Naturals to survive. Besides, Coordinators aren't innately better than Naturals, they just have a greater potential, that requires hard training and work to fully unlock."

"For the moment, maybe. But they have so many scientists working on their fertility problems that it is only a matter of time before they find a way around it. Then they'll be truly self sufficient. What's to stop them from wiping us out then?"

"The fact that as a people, they are much more peace loving than we are."

"Peace loving! The GENESIS didn't seem very peaceable to me!" Cervantes said vehemently, cracking his cane against the cell bars.

"I'd call that the pot calling the kettle black. After your organization orchestrated that nuclear sneak attack on Junius Seven and then reduced Boaz to a heap of radioactive slag, I found myself not totally blaming the PLANTS. Poke a sleeping bear hard enough and long enough and it's sure to take a good swipe at you."

"You're just prejudiced against Blue Cosmos." Cervantes retorted.

"Wow… a Blue Cosmos calling someone else prejudiced. That's the funniest thing I've heard in months."

"You've let past experiences sour you on our organization." Asmodeus put in.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Any man would be angry if his fiancée and children were killed."

"So… you've been looking into my history." Kisaka said, taking a deep breath.

"Not yours specifically. Your pupils. You just came up as a side bar. That brings me to the next question. Where are Robert Jones and his friends hiding?" Asmodeus said coldly.

"Heh. Well, maybe if you hadn't thrown me into prison a month ago, I might have known. But I've been here, in this cell. Last time I saw Robert he was in Switzerland… but I'm sure you're aware of that, considering that's where your son got killed."

"Ledonir… how can you be okay with the dear Ms. Yula Attha being in the care of a monster like Andre Forkav?" Asmodoeus fired back, gritting his teeth at the mention of Ray.

"That doesn't make me happy, you are correct. But she's more in Robert's care than Andre's… or Vlad, as he is now known. And truth be told, I'd rather she be in his care, than yours. At least I know Vlad would kill her, rather than use her to destabilize the world."

"It's a bit late to be worrying about that, Kisaka." Cervantes said in a friendly tone. "As of several hours ago, Orb has rejoined the circle of nations. The Earth Alliance is currently welcoming its newest member. I was there when the people collectively cast down the former high council that had been governing Orb since your imprisonment."

"Is that so? So who did the people elect to lead them next?"

"Why… me, of course." Cervantes replied. "It hasn't been formalized yet, but by process of acclamation, I was the clear victor."

"I don't suppose anyone was running against you?"

"Well… Asmodeus came in a close second. Being the pilot of the Freedom is a terrific boost after all."

"I think once the people have calmed down a bit they might call for a re-count."

"Yes… that is why my occupation forces are currently entrenching themselves all over this beautiful island. Oh, of course, they aren't called occupation forces yet; they're relief forces, coming to aid this great nation."

"I suppose you want me to get upset?" Kisaka said with a yawn.

"I don't really care about your reaction. Are you going to answer our questions or not?"

"No, I'm not. Go away."

"I think we can convince you, actually."

"How? Your man Asmodeus there will tell you, torture won't work and even drugs can be resisted. Of course, that's besides the fact that both are illegal in Orb and the guards would stop you."

"Well, the guards aren't looking right now. As you can see for yourself, the cameras and sensors are quite safely in the off condition. And this cell block is very well soundproofed."

"So the guards are going to believe I tortured myself? The marks won't be that easy to hide."

"The wounds will have been acquired during the course of your aborted escape attempt."

"That's stupid. How could I get through these bars? Bars which incidentally prevent you from getting in here to torture me in the first place. I believe you when you say the cameras are off, but I doubt the guards unlocked the cells for you."

"Well, as it so happens, we brought along our own little cell unlocker. May I introduce Zacharis Frost? You may have heard of him." Cervantes said with a tight grin. Kisaka sat up. "Yes… I thought you might have. You've heard about what he is capable of."

"I know he isn't human. Entirely. As for what he can do… I've heard a few rumors. They sound pretty far fetched."

"I tired of banter." Cervantes sighed. He turned to Frost. "As long as he isn't dead, I don't care what you do. It'd be best if there is no maiming or crippling, as we might have to parade him before the public at some point and such would be hard to explain. Other than that though… have a good five minutes."

"That's the best thing I've heard in a long time. It's like an early Christmas. Usually I only get coal." Frost said. He turned to the cell door, which consisted of a steel frame with six half inch steel bars set into it. It took him less than thirty seconds to pry the bars wide enough apart for the diminutive monster to slip through and into the cell. Kisaka stood in the far corner, in a combat ready stance.

"So all I have to do is keep you away from me for five minutes?" Kisaka said.

"Yeah." Frost said. "Try and last at least five seconds, if you could." He advanced toward Kisaka in no particular rush and with his guard completely down. He paused a moment. "You're not a bleeder, are you?"

"I try not to be." Kisaka retorted, launching a flying kick straight into Frost's face.


	27. A wicked time at the Hotsprings part 1

"It's amazing how fast you guys put all this together. We've barely been in Orb for a day and a half!" Ysak commented, shaking his head carefully at all the equipment piled in the rented mountain house's garage. He was shaking his head carefully because it still throbbed with pain at every little movement, a legacy from Cagalli's unexpectedly well aimed throwing arm from late last night.

"They don't pay us to be slow." James replied. "Though even I'll say, this was a pretty bang up job." He finished coiling a spool of nylon climbing rope.

"Do we really need all of this to break into prison?" Dearka asked. He stared at the sets of climbing gear, rope, crowbars, chemical explosives, guns, ammo crates, knives, gas masks and night camouflage uniforms.

"Hopefully not. Gas masks are a pain in the ass. Of course, poison gas is considerably worse, but I'd prefer not to have either." James answered, dusting his hands off.

"Orb doesn't use poison gas." Dearka pointed out.

"Tear gas is plenty poisonous. That stuff sucks. You have no idea how much until you eat a full meal and then get locked in a room full of it for two hours. Trust me, that ain't fun." James retorted,

"Why would someone do that?" Ysak asked.

"Training. Acclimatization. You gotta be able to keep mobile and alert, even if you do get gassed. We go through that little workshop at least once a year, to keep ourselves current. Don't tell me you guys didn't have a confidence chamber run at basic training?"

"A what?" Dearka asked.

"They never gassed you?"

"No. They were more concerned with getting us on the battlefield as quickly as possible. The war was already on at the time." Ysak replied.

"Oh man, you missed out. It's great. Everyone goes coughing and choking and puking all over the place, eyes watering, ropes of snot hanging from your nose. One of those memories everyone looks back on with fondness."

"Why is it called a confidence chamber though?" Ysak queried.

"Because everyone is standing in ranks in this airtight room, and they have you put gas masks on while the room fills with tear gas. Then, one row at a time you remove your gas masks and say your name, ident number and recruit division number one at a time before you can leave. Takes a lot of self confidence to take off your gas mask after seeing what it does to the people in front of you."

"That's horrible. Sounds more like ritual masochism to me." Dearka said.

"Many people think that… until they get gassed in the field, after which they're quite thankful for the extra experience." James informed them. "Well, if you're done learning about tear gas, why don't you guys get the hell out of this house."

"What?" Ysak said sharply.

"You heard me. Shoo. Leave. Git! We won't be mounting the operation for another eight hours or so. Last thing we commandos need is a bunch of curious kids hanging around the place, bored as hell."

"But there's nothing to do! We're in the mountains, surrounded by wilderness." Dearka protested.

"Hah! Shows what you know. Go talk to Athrun and Cagalli. They should have gotten the details from Vlad by now."

"Do we have to talk to Cagalli?" Ysak muttered as he and Dearka left the garage.

"It's your own fault. That was a fabulously mistimed comment, even for you." Dearka sniggered. "You're just lucky she didn't have a knife or a gun."

"No, girls with knives and guns would be yours and Athrun's departments, after all." Ysak said with a smile.

"What are you saying?"

"Well, I have yet to be either stabbed or shot by my girlfriends. That puts me pretty far ahead of the two of you."

"There were extenuating circumstances, in both cases…"

Ysak enjoyed a laugh at his friend's expense, even though it made his head ache abominably. It was such a rare pleasure that not even pain could hold it back. It didn't take long to find Athrun and Cagalli. They were clustered with the rest of the teenagers around the large van Alkire had rented to move everyone from the hotel to this house.

"'Bout time you got here, we were just about to leave. Your bag is all packed." Miriallia said, slipping her arms around Dearka from behind.

"Ooo, really? Leave where and what bag?" he replied, leaning back into her.

"Hot springs resort…"

"… and your swimming stuff and clothes, of course." Katie and Chanel answered, from where they were greeting Ysak.

"There's a hot springs around here?" Ysak asked.

"Orb is an island nation, volcanic in origin." Cagalli said coolly, plainly still a little upset at Ysak.

"Thank you, Ms. Zala, I never would have noticed without your aid." Ysak shot back sarcastically.

"X-nay on the names thing-nay." Dearka stage whispered. Ysak glared at him.

"There's no one around. It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, go to tell that to Alkire. He'll probably sneak up on you with a sedative and lock you in an iron box for a few hours." Athrun put in.

"You're really sore about that, aren't you?" Kira asked. Athrun looked at him.

"No… not at all." He replied, dripping sarcasm.

"All right, all right, that's enough. Let's stop this before we get into a fist fight." Cagalli said, stepping into the conversation. "We're all a little tense. Some of us more than a little." She said, looking sheepishly at the large white bandage plastered to the side of Athrun's head, just above his right ear. "I figure a nice soak in some hot water; a little steam bathing and all will do us all a load of good. Get us all relaxed after last night's excitement. We're going to need to be calm and collected for the prison break in."

"Yeah, good idea." Lacus chimed in. Kira looked at the van.

"So, who's driving?" he asked. There was a long silence. Athrun tentatively raised his hand.

"I'll drive."

"Personally I'd like to arrive in one piece." Ysak declared.

"Are you saying I'm a bad driver?"

"Are you saying you're a good one? Face it; you've never driven anything remotely like this van before." Ysak argued.

"I'm open to suggestions then. Would you like to drive? You've never been in control of a real car before in your life, have you?" Athrun replied.

"Are you saying I can't do it? You've done it, and there's nothing you can do that I can't!" Ysak declared.

"Oh my god. What an opening, what an opening! Paste him good for me, Athrun." Dearka chuckled.

Athrun seemed willing to oblige. Kira had noticed that his friend seemed to be in a much nastier and more confrontational mood ever since last night. Not that he could blame him, really. "Oh, I can think of quite a number of thing's I've done you can't do." Athrun said calmly.

"Like what!" Ysak demanded. Athrun flicked his eyes at Cagalli, so rapidly that only a Coordinator was likely to see.

"I can't talk about it in public." Athrun replied with a smile. Ysak went even whiter than usual.

"That's not fair! That's out of bounds!" he snarled. "That's totally uncalled for!"

"You asked. Are you going to deny I'm right? Or have you been up to more than I can account for?"

Dearka was laughing so hard he was nearly bent double. "That's harsh, even to do to Ysak."

"Maybe Ysak will learn to be more circumspect when he issues a challenge then." Athrun replied, with little sympathy.

"Wait a minute. Are you saying I CAN'T do those things?" Ysak growled. Athrun turned back to him.

"Well, I wasn't going to bring genetics into it, but if you insist..."

"Woah, woah… that's going a bit far." Kira tried to cut in. Ysak was speechless. All the girls seemed to be enjoying the verbal sparring, having not really caught that last remark, perhaps not realizing how close Ysak was to attacking Athrun and vice versa.

"That is the last straw. You're lucky we need you, or I'd call you out right now!" Ysak hissed.

"What's stopping you? Or are you afraid to embarrass yourself?" Athrun retorted.

"Athrun!" Kira said, startled. Athrun blinked and seemed to collect himself.

"I take that back. I'm more than a little stressed out at present. Let's get down to the hotsprings. Who's driving now?"

Kira sighed. "I'll drive. Everybody get in so we can get down there."

-------------------------------------

The van ride was noisy. Ysak and Dearka were going at it loud enough to nearly distract Kira. Which resulted in the van nearly taking a shortcut down the side of the mountain more than a few times, though Kira did his best not to let on to that fact to avoid worrying Lacus and everyone else. The van handled a lot worse than Alkire's custom made Ferrari, that was for sure. Still, through dint of superior reflexes and Lacus's impeccable navigation, Kira managed to make it to the hot springs complex after only half an hour… about fifteen minutes longer than it should have taken him. But the important thing was that everyone was alive… even if Athrun and Ysak still seemed fit to kill each other at the drop of a hat. They were separated with difficulty by their respective feminine partners and hustled into the hot springs complex.

The complex consisted of a hexagonal array of large stone buildings containing individual indoor hot springs, steam baths and massage parlors, suitable for small groups of people. Meanwhile, the area between the six buildings was given over entirely to a large hot spring, more a large pool, for public bathing. The hotter springs were found in the buildings, while the outdoor pool was only as warm as bathwater. Since it was still early march, which was autumn for Orb, the place wasn't very crowded, not more than a dozen guests and half again as many attendants in the whole place. The interior pools and steam baths were strictly gender separated, but the outdoor pool was mixed gender. Everyone agreed to go off for a few hours of individual time before getting back together for an hour or two in the communal pool just before leaving.

It wasn't long after the various teenagers disappeared into the building that a government issue black SUV pulled up to the hot springs complex. Three men got out. All were dressed in causal-formal wear, long sleeved collared shirts and grey slacks. Two of the men were younger, in their mid twenties, while the third was older, in his forties, though a great deal of stress had marked his face and turned his hair prematurely grey. "I'll be back to pick you up in three hours, Captain." The driver of the car said smartly.

Asmodeus nodded a weary acknowledgement. He'd gotten some sleep, but not as much as he'd needed. It had been barely six hours after he closed his eyes that he had been woken up again, by what he wasn't sure. He had just felt extremely restless. Unable to go back to sleep, he had finally decided that he needed some help winding down after his long research project and had enquired among the members of the Hellhounds stationed as Cervantes's security detail what there was to do in the area. Upon learning of the hot springs, Asmodeus knew that was just what he needed to calm himself down.

A long soak in hundred plus degree water would rejuvenate him for the next week or so. It wasn't too long a drive, no more than an hour from the government center where Cervantes and he had been staying, coordinating the activities of the "relief forces" as they moved throughout orb, helping with distributing supplies and beginning with reconstruction. The Earth Forces soldiers were wildly popular. They practically could not buy food or drink; it was given to them by the pound by the grateful populace. Of course, the soldiers were on orders to pay anyway, because of the positive image that generated and to help revive Orb's mauled economy.

After talking with Cervantes and making sure his schedule was clear for a while, Asmodeus had requisitioned the SUV and taken two members of the Hellhounds along for security purposes. Asmodeus was perfectly capable of handling himself, but he was ever cautious. All three men were armed, with pistols, but Asmodeus did not consider it at all likely they would ever have to use them. Especially given how popular ANY member of the Earth Forces currently was.

"Been a while since I was last at a hot springs." One of the Hellhounds, Corporal Dyre, said casually. He was the man that Cervantes had questioned the previous morning about Orb politics.

"Too long." Asmodeus agreed. "Let's go." He led the way into the resort.

"Hello sir." The desk attendant said brightly. She was surprised; there weren't usually so many customers during the off season. Just a few minutes before a whole gaggle of teenage tourists had came in, and now this group of three men, probably a father and his two grown sons, she judged with her experienced eye. Though there was little familial resemblance between them, so maybe it was a business meeting of some sort. "How can I help you?" she asked.

The older man, the one with the grey hair and well styled black mustachios, stepped forward. Care lines were worn deep into his face around his eyes. He looked permanently weary, like he was constantly weighed down by the burdens of an entire world. Other than his hair and posture, there wasn't much else to the man. He was of average height, average weight, average build. Indeed, the attendant found herself almost unable to get a clear look at the man, there was no strong reference point on the man to hook her attention to. "I'd like to rent one of your small hot pools for an hour or so. And then a steam room, and a massage after that." The man said, staring at her. It wasn't until then that she noticed his eyes, pale, ice blue orbs that seemed to freeze the very air between them.

"Of course, sir." The attendant replied quickly, covering up her initial reaction, that of nervousness. Those eyes made her uncomfortable. She told herself not to judge people by their appearances and to get on with business. "Will your friends be joining you?"

The icy eyed man half turned back to his friends. Some sort of unseen signal must have passed between them because they didn't say anything and he turned back to the attendant. "They'll be joining me for the steam room."

"Very good, sir. Pool number eighteen is open and secluded; it's in building five, just across the main lagoon area. The steam room is right next door, towels can be found in lockers at both locations. Come back to this front desk when you want your massage." The attendant said after a few moments checking.

"Thank you, miss." The icy eyed man said with a slight nod of his head. He turned and moved off towards building five, his two friends falling in to either side of him with almost military precision.

--------------------------------------------------

Kira let out a slight moan of contentment. The hot water felt wonderful. He was almost fully submerged in one of private hot springs, in building four of the resort complex. He hadn't fully realized how tense he'd been, until the water started to sooth his muscles. Now, about forty minutes later, he had moved to cooler pools twice, finding the searing deep heat of the first several pools to be too much to endure for long. Plus, it had quickly separated him from the tangled knot of Athrun, Ysak and Dearka. Athrun was in a touchy mood, and Ysak and Dearka had homed in on that like sharks drawn to bloody water. Ysak because he had always nursed a slight inferiority complex towards Athrun, from what Kira had seen and Dearka just because he was always up for teasing people. They'd been squabbling almost constantly since they had arrived at the hot springs, though luckily now it was more just verbal sparring rather than the near blows it had been up at the rented mountain lodge.

Still, Kira hadn't needed to be around that much discord, even supposedly friendly discord, any longer than necessary. _Lacus would be proud of me, no doubt, distancing myself from such a potential disaster. She always does worry so much about what might trigger an episode of depression or melancholy in me. Of course, it would be better if I could have convinced everyone to get along, but that's not going to happen._ Of course, Kira hadn't been depressed or melancholy in a long time, not since before Athrun's proposal to Cagalli anyway. Since then, he'd been much too busy to spare time for the self introspection and guilt that usually put him in a bad mood. Plus, he hadn't had to do any fighting since the woods at Vanai's Mansion. That was enough by itself to lift his spirits. He loathed fighting, and unfortunately knew that there was a very great likelihood that he'd be doing quite a bit more of it in the future.

"Assuming we find out where our mobile suits are. If there even are any. For all I know, Kisaka might have scrapped them all after GENESIS." He mumbled out loud. _That's not very likely though. Kisaka was always a careful person, who took responsibility enormously seriously. He's probably had everyone's mobile suits rebuilt and tuned up at the least, if not totally redesigned._ Which was a nice thought; though Kira wished it wasn't so prophetic. If he could, he'd have ditched the Freedom into the sun at the first opportunity, but now it looked like a good thing he hadn't had that opportunity, because his power was going to be needed again shortly. _Hard to believe I was just your average student a little more than a year ago, content with the way my life was going, not having to worry about much more than when the next batch of computer simulations were due. I wonder what I of then would think of me of now if we were ever to meet. Well, doubtless I'd be polite, but would I be envious of myself? And in which way?_

"Well, obviously I wouldn't want to give up Lacus." Kira said out loud. "And my renewed friendship with Athrun either." _Though both had come at costs I never wanted to pay. And neither did Athrun. Nicole, the pianist I never knew. Tolle, my best friend and Miriallia's heart. Flay… well, there's a lot to Flay. Yeah. Nothing in life is free, but my costs seem to have been particularly heavy._ "I could toss the whole mobile suit pilot thing right out the window without a second's hesitation though." Kira said, aloud once more. "I never wanted to pilot war machines, especially against the PLANTS." _Of course, now I wonder if I'll ever be able to give it up. It's a skill for which I have enormous talent. If I'd gone to the PLANTS earlier, like Athrun did, I might have become a soldier like him. Things would have turned out just a little differently then._ Kira smiled at that understatement. _The Earth would probably be a radioactive wasteland. Or maybe I would have helped win the war before the GENESIS became necessary. It's impossible to say. Especially with Rau Le Cresuet. That psycho would have eventually managed to figure some way to destroy the world, even if the PLANTS already had won the war._

"Second guessing myself isn't going to doing anything constructive." Kira decided. His back was starting to tense up again. It was time to migrate back to a hotter pool. But he didn't want to go back to the three way war between Dearka, Ysak and Athrun. "I'll go next door then. The other building shouldn't be too crowded." Kira rose out of the pool and picked up his towel to cover himself. He grabbed his bag of clothes, which also had his swimsuit in it. For the individual bathing, swimsuits weren't required, as they were more like actual baths than a swimming pool. Of course, for later, he'd definitely want a swimsuit, to avoid causing a great deal of embarrassment for all concerned. Kira pushed open the door to the pool he had formerly been in and stepped out into the hall. The sounds of feminine giggles stopped him cold. They were muffled, and coming out of a door just down the hall, prominently marked "Female Baths." For reasons Kira was unable to fathom, there was a large window in the middle of each door to the private pools.

The fastest route to the next building over was past that doorway. "I will not look." Kira muttered to himself. _Why did you feel the need to say that?"_ his subconscious replied immediately. _Unless you wanted to look._ Kira shook his head slightly and headed down the hall, eyes forward. _You know you want to sneak a peek._ "I don't". _You do. _"Why would I need to?" Kira blushed. "I wouldn't see anything I hadn't seen before." _That doesn't matter. You haven't seen anything for the past few days. You're getting desperate. You're even talking to yourself._ Kira was unable to think of a reply for that and wasn't even sure he should reply at all. By this time he was almost level with the door. A fresh spate of giggles could be easily heard.

"What are they talking about that's so funny?" Kira mumbled. _Wouldn't you like to know? They're probably talking about you. You should look in and find out for sure._ "No. Now what am I talking to?" _Your long repressed mischievous side. I'm also the part of you that determines when you get horny. And believe me, your getting really horny._ Kira was unable to deny the truth of that, he was glad for the towel. Still, he had long ago mastered the art of self control, even if recent circumstances had sorely tested that ability. He walked quickly past the door and window with his eyes turned resolutely to the far wall. _Weakling! Sissy! Prude!_ His subconscious mocked him. "This just proves I need help. My own mind is making fun of me." Kira whispered, smiling. He suffered no further problems on his way into building five.

"Steambath eighteen." The sign said. "A steam bath sounds really good. I've never actually tried one of those, but I've heard they're a great way to relieve aches and pains." Kira said to no one in particular. _I'm going to have to watch myself. Talking to yourself is okay in small amounts, but I've been doing it constantly. It'll make Lacus worry more, and that's the last thing I want._ Kira pushed open the door to the darkened room and was closing the door behind him before he realized it was occupied. The steam room was made entirely of wood, with a low ceiling and a very dim light set into the far wall for the sole source of illumination. Steam spiraled throughout the room, curling up from a steel pot filled with dimly glowing coals in the center of the room. The steam made the room even darker than it would have otherwise been, obscuring the light.

"Oh, excuse me." Kira said, finally noticing the three men already inside the small room. They were seated on benches across from the doorway, on the other side of the pot of coals. Two of them were staring at him in an unfriendly fashion, while the third, who was older, was leaning back with his eyes closed. Kira started to open the door again.

"Keep it closed. You'll let all the steam out." The older man said suddenly, his eyes still shut.

"But, sir." One of the unfriendly younger men whispered.

"There's plenty of room, Dyre. As long as its just one kid it's not likely to get too rowdy." The older man cut him off. "Sit down, kid."

"Okay." Kira replied, sitting down on a bench near the door. It was almost impossible to make out more than the vague shapes of the three men through the darkness and swirling steam. As Kira watched, the silent younger man picked up a small bucket of scented water which he then sprinkled onto the coals, generating a new burst of steam. Long minutes passed in silence. Sweat was trickling profusely down Kira's skin. It was hot in the room and the steam only made it seem hotter. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"First time in a steam bath?" the older man inquired suddenly. Kira sensed that he was the subject of the inquiry.

"Yes. I'd heard they were good for aches and pains and getting rid of your worries for a time." He replied.

"True enough, though a young man like you will want to watch how long you spend in here. The steam'll dry you out fast and people have been known to collapse from heat stroke or dehydration if they aren't careful. It helps to take slow, deep breaths. Panting like you were doing will just dry you out faster." The older man advised.

"Thank you." Kira said.

"No problem. Though tell me, what worries weigh you down? You sound like you're barely old enough to be out of high school." The man asked. Kira debated how to answer that. He could hardly blurt out the truth, that he was soon to participate in a risky jailbreak to free a friend of his sister's so he could recover his Mobile Suit so he could stop the brewing war and give Blue Cosmos a beating they wouldn't soon forget.

"Just current world events. This whole thing with the government and the attacks on Junius Six and Pearl Harbor." Kira replied, sure that that was a reasonably safe thing to say.

"You support the old Orb government?" the man asked neutrally.

"I believe in Regent Kisaka and Cagalli, yes." Kira replied instantly. This generated a few surprised grunts from the three men.

"That's an interesting position." The older man said, he sounded amused. "It seemed reasonably clear to me that ex-regent Kisaka and the so called daughter of Nara Attha were corrupt officials using the good name of Orb for their own selfish agendas. Or didn't you hear about that?"

"I heard it, I just don't believe it."

"Why not? Do you know them? Have a personal acquaintance with them? You one of Yula Attha's earlier boyfriends?" the older man chuckled as if that was funny.

_I'm her older brother actually._ Kira thought grimly. "No, no nothing like that. But Ms. Cagalli and Regent Kisaka did so much for Orb during the last war. They fought for us on the front lines and sacrificed a lot to preserve Orb. I think the least we can do in return is give them a little credit, a chance to explain themselves and the accusations leveled against them."

"What about the tape of her fucking Athrun Zala? You want them to explain that too? How did you feel when you saw that one, boy?" Dyre asked suddenly.

"I nearly had a heart attack." Kira responded, which was quite true. He still had to consciously steer his mind around recalling those images. "And then I became very angry." _An understatement. I could have torn the man responsible in half right then and there, with no regrets._ "How could anyone do something so horrible to a young girl and the man she obviously loves, people who gave their all for the peace process?"

"You have a very noble spirit." The older man said after a pause. "Naïve… but noble as well. "Did you not hear Chairman Zunnichi's speech last night? The document that proves the perfidy of Ms. Yula Attha and Athrun Zala is widely available on the internet. Besides, with regard to that tape, the public has a right to know what their leaders are up to. How can trust be founded between nations, something necessary for lasting peace, when the people of the host nation, Orb, can't even trust their own leaders to behave responsibly? They weren't even lawfully married and they are both still several years too young for them to be having carnal relations at all!"

"They're hardly the only teenagers who had sex before they turned eighteen and I heard they were betrothed." Kira said, blushing and turning his head slightly. The older man chuckled and Dyre actually laughed out loud.

"Betrothed? Fiancee's? Well, who made that decision? They are below the age of consent, and Zala's parents are both dead as are Ms. Yula Attha's, both her adopted parents and her real ones. Regent Kisaka never made any public announcement about Yula Attha being engaged to Zala and Zala's remaining family in the PLANTS remained silent as well. Besides all of that though, both of them come from important families. Yula Attha is a head of state and Zala is an important member of the ZAFT military! They can't just go around, having these little trysts. People like them don't get to have as free a life as people like you, because of their responsibilities." The older man said, leaning forward now.

"You are right, kid, that sex between people under the age of eighteen and out of wedlock isn't nearly as uncommon as it should be… you've indulged yourself, obviously… but it is a much worse thing for people as important as Yula Attha and Zala to be caught doing it than it would be for you. National leaders are supposed to follow all the rules religiously and Yula Attha's little romance broke a lot of rules. And when you break rules, you get punished. Unfortunately, Yula Attha's breach of the rules also destabilized the peace conferences and trashed her nations… your nations… reputation world wide. A lot of people find it highly suspicious that Zala, a Coordinator and highly placed member of ZAFT, just happened to be living it up with your government head while she pushed for peace with the PLANTS."

"I still refuse to believe that Cagalli had anything but the best interests of the entire world at heart." Kira replied.

"That is your privilege, of course. Orb is still a free country, at the moment." The older man said. "Of course, even if she did, that might have been as fatal a flaw as only having her own interests at heart."

"What?" Kira asked, confused.

"Dyre, explain to the young man. I'm going for another soak." The older man said tiredly.

"Yes sir. Blake, accompany the Captain and stand watch until I'm done." Dyre replied.

"Yes, corporal." The heretofore silent younger man said, standing up and following behind the older man, the one addressed as "Captain", out of the steam room. Dyre waited for the door to shut before turning to the kid. The kid was staring at him, which Dyre didn't like. He expected respect, god damn it and this kid hadn't been very respectful towards Captain Asmodeus, a man that Dyre had nothing but the highest respect for.

"Okay kid, listen up and listen well, because I'm not as tolerant as the Captain." Dyre said. "I'm only going to explain this once."

"All right." Kira replied, easily able to sense the hostility the other man had for him.

"The reason Yula Attha would be equally screwed if she had only the best interests of the world at heart vs only her own self interest at heart is that she's the goddamn ruler of Orb. The ruler of a nation isn't supposed to have the best interests of the world in mind. They're supposed to have their own NATION'S best interests in mind. It's little wonder that Orb was in such a state of decay, if she and Kisaka were worried about the world rather than their own homes!" Dyre explained forcefully.

"But without having the interests of the world in mind, how can peace ever come about? If all the nations are worried only about themselves, then how can they ever work together to forge a lasting peace?" Kira shot back.

"Welcome to real life, kid. It sucks. There aren't any easy answers. No fairy tale kings and queens and knights all working together for the common good. Every man is out for his own self and every woman too. The only way anything gets done is when someone strong comes through and forces everyone to do what needs to be done. Politics is a knife fight and a damned bloody one too. If Orb doesn't have leader's who'll be competitive, then Orb needs new leaders before it gets pulled under the ever rising tide. It's not a problem any more, now that Mr. Zunnichi is in charge and Orb has joined the Earth Alliance. Orb is going to be strong again, stronger than it ever was before. You should be thankful that Mr. Zunnichi came along when he did, because otherwise all of Orb would have eventually gone the way of Heliopolis!" Dyre replied, standing up. "Don't bother the Captain again. If I see you hanging around this building after I count to ten, I'm going to blow your dick off." He produced a shiny black automatic pistol from underneath his towel. Kira froze.

"Get moving. I'm not fucking around." Dyre warned. "And if you go for the cops… well, the cops aren't going to arrest me or the Captain. We're saviors, along with the rest of the Earth Alliance relief forces. If you go for the cops I'll track you down and blow your dick off later, understand? One."

Kira lurched to his feet, judging distances. Dyre stood about eight feet away, pistol already pointed at him. Kira was off balance from surprise and feeling more than a little light headed from the heat and all the steam. Even with poor visibility, Kira doubted that Dyre would miss at such close range. Especially if the man was a soldier.

"Two." Dyre continued. Kira grabbed his towel and bolted out the door. Dyre started laughing behind him as Kira hustled out of building five and back into building four.

----------------------------------------

"You're in an awful rush." Dearka noted casually as Kira stormed through the door back into building four. Kira skidded on wet feet and nearly fell down. He looked back through the glass door at building five. Nobody had followed him. It had just been a scare tactic. One that had worked, but just a scare tactic. "You look pale. Everything all right?"

_Someone just threatened to castrate me with a gun and I had to listen to several men piss all over Cagalli and Athrun's names without saying a single word in their defense. Is it any wonder than I'm surprised, scared and ticked off? I'm surprised I'm not as red as a tomato from anger, because I certainly feel mad enough to boil lead._ Kira thought. "Just not used to the steam baths. I'm a little light headed."

"Yeah, you have to be careful. You should get something to drink, to replace all the fluid you sweated out." Dearka replied.

"What are you doing out here, Dearka?" Kira suddenly thought to ask. Dearka looked away.

"Uhmmm… well, you see…" he said slowly. Kira's eyes caught on something else.

"Is that a camera?" Kira said, pointing. Dearka looked at the disposable camera he had bought in the resort gift store a few minutes prior, which he was holding in his hand, half hidden behind his back.

"By god, it is." Dearka said, trying to sound surprised.

"Why do you have a camera? And where are Athrun and Ysak?"

"Well, Athrun and Ysak eventually got tired of insulting each other and they went to separate buildings to pout and sulk, I think. That left me with nothing to do. So I thought I might pick up a camera, take a few pictures, to commemorate the trip."

"Really? Can I see what pictures you took?" Kira asked, a suspicion growing in his mind. They were standing barely fifteen feet from the door to the private girl's pool. Dearka smiled nervously. Kira's suspicion grew stronger.

"Well… actually…" Dearka suddenly bolted for the door. "I'm sorry. I won't look at Lacus's!" Dearka threw open the door and pounded outside. Kira was less than a second behind him. Dearka was making a beeline for building five.

"Dearka! Don't go in there! Don't go in there!" Kira cried. Dearka ignored him, sprinting full out for the doorway. Kira skidded to a halt, Dyre and his gun and his threat still quite fresh in his memory. Kira wondered if Dyre had finished counting to ten yet. It hadn't been that long. Dearka reached the door comfortably ahead of Kira and threw the glass door open without a second thought. Dearka disappeared inside. Kira halted a few feet from the door and tried to decide what to do.

Seconds ticked by as Kira weighed the wisdom of just letting Dearka go free, vs the embarrassment and who knows what that would result from those pictures being developed and the certain knowledge that there was at least one unfriendly man with a gun and a will to use it in the building with Dearka, and that man did not like teenagers. Kira would never forgive himself if Dearka got shot. The decision was taken out of Kira's hands an instant later. A gunshot rang out from inside building five. Kira pounced forward and yanked open the door. Dearka was lying on the carpet floor of the hallway about twenty feet in. Dyre was standing over him, gun in his hand and pointed at Dearka's face. Dearka was unharmed, but the camera with his ill gotten pictures in it was scattered all over the hallway, the unlucky victim of Dyre's shot.

Dyre looked at Kira and his eyes widened. The gun started to come up. Just then, the older man burst out of the door leading to pool eighteen. His ice blue eyes took in the scene with a glance. "Put the god damn gun up, Dyre. You shaved a year off my life, firing in here."

"But sir… he had a camera!"

"It's a fucking resort, corporal! Tourists have cameras!" the older man said. He studied Dearka. "At least the kid's unharmed, though you probably scared his hair white." The man glared at Dyre until Dyre put the gun away at his side.

"What the hell?" Dearka sputtered, finally regaining verbal control.

"All right, look. No harm's been done, despite my over eager friend here. I'm sorry your camera was destroyed, but better that than your head. We're going to leave, and I'll speak with the hostess about paying for your time here. And a replacement camera. That sound acceptable?" the older man said. Kira nodded, as did Dearka. They didn't really have any idea what was going on, but the older man seemed almost nervous.

"This your friend?" the older man asked Kira, indicating Dearka. Kira nodded, not trusting his voice. The man helped Dearka to his feet and handed him his towel back. The man then disappeared back into the pool area, returning very quickly with a bundle of clothes. "Come on, Dyre. You've ruined my vacation, so its time to get back to work."

"But sir… I was just…"

"Shut up, Dyre. You're in deep enough shit as it is."

"Yes, sir." Dyre sent Kira and Dearka a look of venomous hatred, that made Kira decide that he'd rather not end up alone with the man any time in the near future. Dyre and the older man stalked off, heading back towards the front desk.

"My camera!" Dearka said sorrowfully, looking at the scattered pieces. "I had such wonderful pictures in there!"

"It's for the best. I would have told Miriallia and she would have… well, I'm sure you know better than me." Kira replied. Dearka shuddered.

"Ugh. You always have to say such horrible things. I'd prefer to be skinned alive. Wait… you said you WOULD HAVE… does that mean you won't now?" Dearka asked.

"Well… the camera is destroyed. And if you don't mention anything to Lacus about that man with the gun, I'd call us even." Kira replied uncomfortably.

"That's right! You warned me not to go in here! You knew that psycho with the gun was in here, didn't you?" Dearka leapt on this crumb of salvation.

"Sort of, yeah. He had just finished telling me to get out before I ran into you. Apparently he thought I was disturbing his boss, the guy with the blue eyes. They're part of the EA military, I'm pretty sure."

"I don't know if we're even. I could have gotten killed." Dearka said with a glint in his eye.

"I could also tell Athrun and Ysak you were peeping at their girlfriends. Worse, I could tell Vlad you were taking nude pictures of Katie and Chanel." Kira shot back. Dearka paled.

"We're even. Dead, totally, completely even. There is absolutely no need to bring Athrun, Ysak or especially Vlad into this."

"I agree. So let's go back and do our collective best to forget all about this. It's nearly time to rendezvous in the main pool anyway."


	28. A wicked time at the Hotsprings part 2

Athrun stared moodily across the shallow pool of extremely hot water. Ysak met his gaze from the bench on the other side of the pool and glared resentfully back. They had split up about twenty minutes earlier, resolving to have nothing to do with each other for the rest of the resort trip. However, all of the pools in both the other buildings they had gone to were too tepid for their tastes. Athrun had decided to sneak back to their initial pool at almost exactly the same time Ysak had hit on the same plan, a building away. Both boys reached the pool at nearly the same time, entering from opposite doors. Needless to say, they had not been pleased to see each other again, but neither was willing to give up the promise of genuinely hot water.

Athrun sighed. "This must be karma. I'm getting a lesson in tolerance." He mumbled to himself.

"What's that?" Ysak said sharply.

"Nothing. Just deciding to accept fate and share the pool." Athrun replied, standing up and slipping into the piping hot water slowly. Jumping in quick was a sure way to get scalded. Better to go slow, get each part of the body accustomed to the heat before sinking deeper in. Ysak mirrored his caution. He'd learned the hard way the first time. There were no hot springs on the PLANTS, and bath water never got anywhere near the temperature this spring was at, nigh on one hundred and fifteen degrees… too hot for most people. Ysak had just careened into the pool, expecting it to be no different than a hot tub or bath. Of course, he had careened right out again, cursing up a storm and nearly falling over in his rush.

"We need a topic of conversation." Ysak said suddenly.

"What?" Athrun replied, distracted.

"Something safe to talk about."

"Why?"

"To stave off boredom."

Athrun shook his head slightly. So Ysak wanted to talk like civilized folk, eh? Well, he supposed he could handle that. It would make a refreshing change from the rest of the day.

"How was your day at the beach?" Athrun asked after some thought. "Yesterday, I mean."

"Of course yesterday." Ysak snapped before calming himself. "It was nice. Relaxing. I wouldn't mind going again."

"What did you do?"

"Kicked the crap out of a bunch of civilians in volleyball. We made it all the way to the finals before I... got distracted and wandered off."

Athrun sensed there was more to this tale. "Distracted and wandered off?"

"Dearka had just finished telling another basic training story. As usual, I was the butt of the joke."

"He tells plenty of jokes where you aren't the punchline… just, not when you're around."

"Of course, no one had much sympathy for me and I was a little annoyed, so I got up from the drink bar and left, telling everyone I was going for a walk. Just an aimless, wandering walk. I asked if Katie and Chanel wished to come along, expecting a yes answer. They told me they'd be along in about ten minutes after they finished their drinks. I was surprised, since I had no idea where I was going to wander to, how would they be able to find me? They assured me they had their ways. I was doubtful but didn't wish to argue and so I left."

"And then?"

"Don't ask me how, but less than five minutes later they found me. I'm embarrassed to admit, I was angry at them and I tried to make it hard, doubling back once or twice and finally hiding in a crowd of people watching a street entertainer juggle flaming clubs. One moment I was alone, the next they were right next to me, one on either side, as calm as could be. I never even heard them approach. I had made sure to have people taller than me standing all around me as a visual blind, but it was totally worthless. When I asked them how they did it, they just smiled those secretive smiles and told me they had their ways."

"That is odd. Maybe it's something they picked up from Alkire or Raine."

"That's what they said at first. But that didn't quite ring true. We received some commando training in preparation for the mission on Heliopolis. Never did we ever hear anything about techniques for locating people in a crowd when you have no idea which way they went or where they might be. I could have been anywhere within three blocks of that juice shop and they found me like I was shooting off flares. After nearly half an hour of cajoling, threatening, arguing and finally begging, they gave me another story. Though they warned me that I wouldn't believe them."

"And what was that?"

Ysak tried to keep his face straight, but wasn't very successful. He looked disgusted. "They said they homed in on the tele-empathic signals of my subconscious. And they said that with totally straight faces."

"What?" Athrun sat forward a bit too quickly and winced at the heat. "What did you do then?"

"Well… it pains me to admit it, but I laughed at them. Then I told them to quit joking around and tell me how they did it. They got really angry. Like, as angry as I get. And then they left. Just stormed off before I could say anything else."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I was confused, to say the least. I went after them, of course. But damn me if they didn't just vanish like ghosts. I wasn't three seconds behind them and once they made the first turn I never saw them again for the next three hours. I only found them because they let me, I'm pretty sure. Then I made another mistake."

"Really?"

"Yes. I demanded to know how they'd avoided me so well."

"How'd that turn out?"

"They told me."

"And?"

"I don't remember the exact wordage, but it amounted to them saying that they were listening in to my thoughts and so knew exactly where to go so that I kept going in circles."

"Telepathic girlfriends. That's a new twist."

"Shut up, please. It's bad enough hearing it from them. I don't need that story spread about. Dearka would manage to twist it into something worse than it already is, I just know it. I'm going to get to the bottom of this though and learn the real way they were able to find and hide from me. And I'm not going to accept any bullshit about telepathic powers and empathic signals or emotional transcripts or neuro-connectivity, either."

"Sounds like a lot of fairly heavy duty terms. Maybe a bit much for a pair of teenage girls to come up with on their own."

"You believe they're telepathic?"

"No. That's fiction stuff. I'm just saying that all those terms they threw at you don't seem like an average sort of cover up. Maybe you should ask Raine. She's their adopted older sister after all. Maybe she can clear things up for you."

"Yeah, maybe I'll do that." From the tone of his voice, Ysak probably wouldn't but that was how he was. "So what did you do yesterday? I mean, before Cagalli brained you with a vase."

Athrun snorted. "I went to Cagalli's house."

-------------------------------------------------

"What?"

"Yeah, it's a good story all right."

"You took him to your house?" Miriallia said, incredulous.

"Well, we were in disguise!" Cagalli hastened to point out. "And I did kind of talk myself into it. Or allowed Athrun to manipulate me into it, which amounts to the same thing."

"And what happened then?" Lacus asked. She was sitting on the edge of the pool, having decided that too much exposure to the hot pool was making her light headed and drowsy. She missed her pink Haro robot, which Alkire had forced her to leave behind at his Hawaiian safe house, citing how distinctive it was. Sometimes the room felt empty without it bouncing around all the time.

"Well, Athrun had already called a taxi, so we were committed. We took the hour and half cab ride without much incident. We arrived at my house… my father's house, the main one where he publicly lived anyway, just after a tour started, so we were forced to wait for another two hours for another one to start. I used up that time by giving Athrun a tour of the outer grounds."

"They just let people walk around the outer grounds?" Katie asked in some surprise, from where she and Chanel were taking turns braiding and unbraiding each other's hair into successively wilder patterns.

"Well… not technically, no. But it is MY HOUSE. I know more ways into the grounds than the entire security detail."

"You were a bad girl growing up, weren't you?" Miriallia said. Cagalli blushed a little.

"Only after I turned twelve. Before then I was one of those disgustingly cute little angel girls. You know… like Lacus."

Lacus kicked some water at her. "I had plenty of mischievious moments, I'll have you know. I misbehaved often, actually."

"Yeah… sure, whatever. You'll have to tell us about those, later." Cagalli snorted in disbelief. "I took Athrun in through the route I knew was the safest. The one I used to run away from home after Heliopolis so I could join Desert Dawn along with Kisaka. There's this pond on the southwest corner of the grounds that borders right up to the privacy wall. Well, the pond is supposed to have a drainage channel through the wall, a pipe about three feet around. The thing is, the pond never gets high enough to flood down the pipe, so it is as dry as a bone. There are a few vermin grates and an infared detection system in there, but I bypassed those when I was thirteen and the security forces have yet to find out about it."

"So who went first through the pipe?" Miriallia asked.

"Athrun, of course. He's much more of a gentleman than Dearka. He didn't even suggest that I go first. For all he knew, the tunnel could have been full of rats."

"Would that have made a difference?" Chanel asked.

"Athrun hates rats." Lacus replied. "I wouldn't quite call it a phobia, but he loathes them. He went exploring into an old warehouse when he was five or six and disturbed a big pack of the things. He gotten bitten and scratched up pretty badly, if I recall right. Ever since then he hasn't liked them at all."

"Yeah, and that doesn't go beyond this pool, either. I only found out myself by accident, and I know he wouldn't appreciate it being spread around." Cagalli warned everyone. "Unless you all want to cough up your boyfriends secret weaknesses first…"

"My lips are sealed… I know anyway though." Lacus said.

"I won't say anything to Dearka. Knowing him, he'd find some way of slipping a few rubber rats into Athrun's cockpit or something, and then he'd crash and blow up and everything would be bad." Miriallia said.

"Ysak isn't in our good graces right now. He won't hear a thing from us until he apologizes and even then, we won't tell him about this." Katie put in.

"Okay, good, continuing on. We went in through the pipe, which seemed tighter than I remembered and got out into the grounds without being noticed. I then led Athrun to what was, during my younger, more innocent days, my secret castle."

"Ooo… secret castle. I had one of those too. Though mine was just a big cardboard box my dad brought home from work one day." Miriallia cut in.

"Well, mine wasn't a cardboard box. On the south side of the house, right next to the patio, there's this big pine tree. The branches go all the way down to brush the ground and it's very thickly foliated. However, what only I and the groundskeepers really know is that the branches on the tree start a good ten feet up the trunk and descend in a bow shape to the ground, leaving a reasonably large cavity between the braches and the trunk. About the size of a large family tent, I'd say. The grass under the tree is thickly carpeted with soft old pine needles, and the branches completely block anyone from seeing you from outside. Of course, it's equally hard to see out from inside, but that's not the point. It's actually pretty well lit inside, with light streaming down from above, where the branches are less densely packed."

"Sounds like the perfect hiding spot." Chanel observed.

"Yeah. I used to go there when I was angry at my father when he wouldn't let me go outside the grounds to play. I used to be so childish, it amazes me now. My father had so much more patience than I ever gave him credit for."

"So what then?" Lacus asked. Cagalli blushed quite deeply.

"Well… we still had about an hour and fifteen minutes to kill and the adrenaline rush of sneaking into my own house and re-visiting all my old hiding spaces was still in full flow and… well… one thing led to another."

"You did it right then and there? Not thirty feet from your house? With the possibility of a security patrol happening by at any moment?" Katie said with a wicked grin. "Go girl." Nobody else said anything. Chanel and Lacus were both pretty embarrassed themselves, just by the topic. Neither were entirely comfortable discussing sex so openly. Miriallia just cocked her head and grinned, gifted with new ammunition to needle Dearka with.

"Y-yeah. Thanks… Katie. Well, skipping ahead about forty minutes…"

"Forty minutes!" Katie cut in again. "Damn!"

Chanel dunked her into the water. "Shut up. She's trying to tell a story, and we don't need your lewd comments."

"Forty minutes later…" Cagalli repeated, trying to ignore Chanel and Katie, who were now dunking each other enthusiastically. "… we slipped out of the tree and back across the grounds. We almost mistimed it. I think one of the kids in the tour we missed saw us. He gave me a wink when we passed him on the way into the house."

"Maybe he just thought you were pretty." Lacus mused.

"With Athrun there, holding my hand, arm in arm? He didn't have the build to be brave enough to do that." Cagalli refuted. "But he didn't say anything so we were okay. We joined the next tour group and stood around waiting for the other tourists to show up. I remembered how much I hated the days when our house was open to the public, even though it usually meant I got to go to our sea side mansion, which is a much nicer house. Back then… and hell, even now, I'm not too fond with having my private life on display. Once I hit age thirteen or so, it started getting really annoying having to move out every two days so four bunches of total strangers could look through my room on their way back from my father's study and the upstairs guest room."

"I can see how that wouldn't be very enjoyable." Lacus said sympathetically. She knew well what it was like to have your life always on display, even if it was to a lesser degree, since she chose to become a pop singer, wheras Cagalli was just born into her job.

"Yeah, well, getting back to the story, we started the tour. It was really hard, resisting the impulse to correct the guide. The one we had was obviously new at his job and he didn't know very much about the house and the stuff he did know was usually slightly flawed. He'd date the furniture wrong or say a room was important when it wasn't or tell a story about a room that actually happened somewhere else. I was kept busy the entire time, whispering the real stuff to Athrun." Cagalli stopped for a drink of cold water, pulling herself out of the hot pool to keep her skin from getting wrinkled.

"When we finally got to my room, I nearly freaked out. For one thing the guide totally botched the description. He seemed almost ashamed to be in my room. I could tell everyone was thinking about that nasty videotape Blue Cosmos made. But the worst thing was that not a single thing in that room was actually mine. Everything of mine had been taken out and replaced with replicas. Pretty good ones, but to me they were disgustingly false. I don't know where all of my stuff was, the police probably took it when they put Kisaka in jail, searching for clues. I was so angry I couldn't speak. All of my pictures, my music, my stuffed animals, my clothes… my gun… everything was gone. They hadn't even replaced the gun, which was too bad because it was one of my prize possessions. Not the viridian dress, like the guide said. He didn't know the first thing about me! I hate dresses!"

"So that was it?" Miriallia asked. Cagalli half glared at her.

"Expecting something more?"

"Well, no, I guess. It's just that usually something unusual happens when you feel the need to tell a story about it."

"The unusual stuff happened later, when I trashed the hotel lobby and took Athrun down with a glass vase." Cagalli replied. "And besides, what's so common about sneaking onto the grounds of your house, as a wanted fugitive, making love to your fiancée less than fifty feet from thirty kinds of people who'd like to put you both in jail, and then giving your fiancée a tour of a house you'll both probably never live in?"

"Given some of the days we've had, that really isn't so weird or exciting." Lacus pointed out.

"True enough." Katie said, having won the dunking fight, as usual when physical activities were at stake. She turned her head suddenly towards the door.

"See something?" Chanel asked.

"Could have sworn I saw someone at the door, but there's no one there now."

"Someone looking in at us?" Miriallia asked.

"A guy?" Lacus asked.

"Well, a girl wouldn't have too much to gain by staring at us in a bath." Cagalli replied.

"Our guy's wouldn't do such a thing." Lacus said firmly. She paused a few breaths. "Well, I know Kira wouldn't."

"Athrun wouldn't either. Besides, both Kira and Athrun have little left of the female body they haven't seen anyway." Cagalli added, causing Lacus to blush quite thoroughly.

"Ysak wouldn't… on purpose." Chanel said, somewhat doubtfully.

"It wasn't Ysak." Katie assured her.

"How do you know?" Miriallia asked.

"Cause if it was Ysak, he'd still be staring, goggle eyed. He doesn't exactly have a large depth of experience with beautiful women like all of us. To him, we're all still pretty magical. Trust me, we'd have caught him red handed if it was Ysak." Katie said with a wink to Chanel.

"That really only leaves Dearka." Mir sighed. "I'm supposed to think of some defense for him?" she complained. She thought for a few moments. "I can't think of any reason why Dearka wouldn't be the culprit. He's twisted like that. Though if he is the peeper, we'll probably not find out until at least a week from now. He's not stupid, not at all."

"We could find out pretty easy." Chanel countered.

"If he suddenly has a camera when next we meet him, then we'll know he's guilty. No matter what he says, nothing good has ever come of him and a camera." Katie added.

"Look at the time! It's just about time to meet the guys in the center pool. We should get going, so we can get there first and claim all the good spots." Miriallia spoke up. Everyone agreed, clambering out of the pool and rushing to get dressed.

---------------------------------------------

Asmodeus found Frost waiting in the parking lot when he got back from his aborted trip to the hot springs. Dyre was sitting in the back of the SUV, properly chastened and sullen. Asmodeus made a mental note to make sure the Lieutenant had a stiff word with the man about fire control when next the Hellhounds gathered together. "What do you want?" Asmodeus asked Frost as he climbed out of the car.

"This car. I've been ordered to go finish off Kisaka." Frost replied. And indeed, he was dressed to kill. He wore a variation on his grim reaper Halloween costume, dark grey long sleeved shirt and dark grey pants, over which was worn a long black leather mantle that covered him from neck to toe, split down the sides to allow freedom of arm movement. A separate hood with veil and integrated night vision goggles was tucked into his belt; a skull was painted on the veil in white. Frost casually leaned on his pride and joy, a fire blacked ash scythe with a monomolecular titanium-steel edge, hand forged by Frost himself. If Frost really was on a kill mission Asmodeus knew that hidden underneath the mantle there would be at least four or five combat knives, a large caliber revolver of some sort, Frost's skinning/carving knife and two machetes with chainsaw teeth that were powered by mini batteries. The chainblade machetes were extremely brutal weapons, able to chew through hardened steel like it was soft clay.

"Ordered by who?"

"By Cervantes, of course." Frost replied scathingly. "And he want's it done now!"

"Don't let him have the car until I verify this." Asmoedus instructed his Hellhounds. They pulled out their guns and trained them on Frost. "He's the sixer." Asmodeus warned them. Dyre's eyes tightened, as did his compatriots. They were familiar with the BCPU project. Frost grinned hugely.

"I see my rep gets around."

"What do we do if he attacks, sir?" one of the other Hellhounds asked.

"Shoot out the tires on the car." Dyre replied. "He wants the car, but it won't get far on the rims." Asmodeus shook his head and headed inside. It was too bad about Dyre. The man was smart and clever. He just didn't have very good common sense. Asmodeus quickly made his way to Cervantes's office, the one formerly used by Lord Nara Attha.

"Frost say's you're sending him to kill Kisaka?" Asmodeus asked, after the room was clear.

"True." Cervantes replied.

"Why? I thought you said earlier this morning that Kisaka still had some use as a public scapegoat."

"I've got a good feeling about getting rid of him. We don't need a scapegoat any more, Asmodeus. The populace is perfectly willing to do whatever we tell them, without a tangible target for their anger. However, there is a small faction, mostly consisting of those who fought in the last war, who still believe in Yula Attha and Kisaka. If they could break Kisaka out of jail… well, he's a serious professional in your field. There's no telling what harm he could do with just a little popular support. I'd rather not be the sheriff of Nottingham to his Robin Hood."

"I suppose that makes sense." Asmodeus allowed. "Is there any evidence that a break out is being planned."

"No. But I prefer to get a head start on the opposition, and remove Kisaka's head before the day is out."

"Whatever you say, sir."

"Precisely."

"Let him have the car." Asmodeus said into his phone, after dialing Dyre's radio. "You drive. To the prison. Just drop him off at the front and then get the hell out of there. We'll send in a retrieval team later." Asmodeus turned to Cervantes and turned off the phone. "So the whole prison is going to go, if you're sending Frost?"

Cervantes shrugged. "Part of the cover up. No one will believe one man could kill all sixty guards, plus the dogs and all the inmates. We'll be able to pass it off as the work of fanatical terrorists. Then we can arrest some of Kisaka's supporters and pin the blame on them, say they were unable to handle the shame of being deceived by Kisaka, so they decided to take revenge. People will buy it."


	29. Kisaka Jail Break

Alkire crouched in the woods just upslope from the prison wall. He wore night camouflage uniform, consisting of dark grey cammies with light grey and dark blue splotches. Black was not a night color, contrary to popular belief. A solid black shadow in the shape of a man was probably a man. But a bunch of random splotches… well that could be anything. Victor was crouched about ten paces to his left, while Vlad was ten paces to the right. Their target was a ventilation duct just on the other side of the ten meter wall from them. The only real obstacle was the electrified razor wire at the top, and that was child's play. Cagalli, Athrun, Kira and Ysak were position twenty paces behind Alkire, clad in ill fitting night cammies of their own.

Alkire did a last minute equipment check. His 7.62mm assault rifle with fifty round drum magazine was slung across his back, next to the eighty foot coil of cut resistant nylon rope. His 9mm pistol was holstered at his right hip, his combat knife in his left boot. A bandoleer across his chest held three flash bangs, two canisters of tear gas and four smoke grenades. He wore climbing spikes on his palms and toes and he flipped his night vision goggles/encoded radio communicator down over his eyes with a thumb. His lighter was in his breast pocket. He was ready and waiting.

"Shift change." Raine reported from her position at the front of the prison. The timing of the patrols may have been random, but the times the guard shifts went on and off duty was not. There was a six minute, twenty four second lapse in security every eighteen hours as the guards changed shifts. Raine was observing the guards mess room through her scope, seated high up in one of the thousands of trees on the mountain. James was positioned below her, waiting in the driver's seat of an all terrain jeep with the engine hot. Katie, Chanel, Dearka, Miriallia and Lacus waited nearby as reserve forces, though Alkire had no intention of calling on them, even if things went wrong.

"Moving." Vlad warned, slipping through the bushes to the wall with nary a sound. With his mechanical arms, Vlad could climb like a spider, since he could easily lift two or three times his weight with just one arm. Vlad practically ran up the wall, slowing only when he reached the top. Thirty seconds had passed. It took ten more for Vlad to create a temporary short around a five foot wide section of razor wire and twenty more after that to cut through the five foot section and drop it to the ground. "Entering." Vlad warned, dropping out of sight on the other side of the wall.

"Moving." Victor radioed. Alkire moved at the same time. They were using two ropes to expedite things. It took him longer to climb the wall, almost a full minute. He and Victor reached the top almost together. Vlad had secured a series of pitons into the wall on his way down and it was to these that Victor and Alkire tied their ropes.

"Move it kids." Alkire ordered, dropping over the wall on his rope, riding the slack down to a perfect landing on the ground thirty feet below. He felt tension on his rope almost the moment he reached the ground. Victor's boots hit the ground a second later and likewise his rope went tight. Cagalli and Kira came over first, being the slower ones. Alkire checked the time. They still had more than three minutes of safe time. By the time Athrun and Ysak had crossed, they were down to one minute and some change. Alkire dropped his climbing gear and took out his lighter. The nylon ropes had been treated with a certain volatile chemical by Victor earlier in the day. In less than five seconds, both ropes had burned themselves to fine grey ash in two smoky flashes that were barely visible even to those close by.

"Forward." Alkire commanded, minimizing radio time to reduce the chances of the guards noticing odd radio traffic within their perimeter. Vlad already had the cover on the ventilation duct off and had gone further ahead to scout and disarm security measures. Victor went next, followed by the kids. Alkire brought up the rear, resetting the cover as he did so. They were in, and alarm free from the looks of it. The hard part was over. Now for the long tight crawl through the ventilation system to cell block delta, followed by the freeing of Kisaka and then the exciting part, the mad dash to freedom through the front gates in a hail of hopefully bloodless gunfire. Alkire was about a third of the way through the ventilation system when the plan went sour.

"We have a black gov'ment SUV pulling up to the prison." Raine radioed.

"Another prisoner?" Alkire asked.

"Mayb… no. One guy got out. He's real short. Dressed kinda weird. Got a hood on, I can't make out his features. Huh… that's odd…"

"What?" Victor asked.

"He just pulled what looks a whole hell of a lot like a scythe out of the car."

"Like the farming implement?"

"Affirmative." Raine paused. "The SUV's making tracks. I mean it's flying like a bat out of hell. It just dropped this short guy with the scythe off and now the driver looks like he's trying to set a land speed record on his way down the mountain."

"This is bad." Kira cut into the channel.

"I told you kids to stay off the taccom." Alkire snapped.

"It's Frost." Kira retorted. "Frost had a scythe back at Vanai's costume party."

"You can't be sure of that." Victor said dubiously.

"There are not too many short guys who use scythe's I know of." Kira countered.

"With your depth of experience…" Victor said slowly.

"That's enough." Alkire cut in. "Raine, what's the shorty doing?"

"Walking into the prison. A patrol's coming out to him from the main gate. Five guards, two dogs. The guards have their guns pointed at shorty." Raine paused. "Oh my god." She breathed. "Oh my god!"

"WHAT?**" **Victor, Vlad and Alkire asked at once. The sound of shotgun blasts echoed thinly through their radios, followed by a high pitched whine that might have come from a dog in pain. The whine cut off suddenly as did the gunfire.

"Shorty just fucking killed the guards. He chopped the leader down like he was a stalk of corn and the guards opened up, but they all missed, somehow. Then shorty was on them and… well… I didn't see much of it besides the limbs flopping and the blood spurting, but shorty got all of them and both dogs in about a second and a half."

"It's Frost." Kira said again. "We need to hurry." Nobody argued this time.

"What's Frost doing now?" Alkire said as he started to speed crawl.

"He's entered the main building. I've lost sight of him… no… wait… there he is. He just entered the mess hall with the off going shift." Raine shifted her grip on her rifle to move the scope to a better position. "Oh dear lord."

"What's happening?" Cagalli asked.

"It's a massacre. Pure butchery. The guards are unarmed. They don't have a chance. God… I've never seen so much blood." Raine said, gagging slightly. An alarm started to wail from inside the prison. "One of the guards must have managed to get to the panic button. Hurry up guys."

"I'm at cell block delta." Vlad replied. "Entering."

------------------------------

Frost sang the song of death, to the whistling accompaniment of his amazingly sharp scythe, which cut through wood, flesh, bone and gunmetal with equal ease. He hadn't even had to draw any of his other weapons yet. He had just finished working was way through the guards eating their evening meal. He still rejoiced in the horrified expressions on their faces when he had kicked the door in. He had stood in the doorway, blood from the guards outside trailing sluggishly down the moisture repellent treated leather of his mantle. He had basked in their fear and surprise for a full three seconds before entering the room. Most of the guards were still rising, half chewed food dropping out of their gaping mouths. Like a room full of baby birds, beaks open to caw for food. Frost had no food for them, but he was happy to ease their painful lives a trifle. Or maybe it was his painful life, Frost could never be sure. To be certain, none of the guards seemed to appreciate his gifts.

He left arms separated from bodies, legs half chopped, veins opened, arteries gaping, brains exposed, organs slashed, bones sliced and blood parted on his way across the room. It didn't take very long. The guards were all bunched together and unarmed; he could frequently hit two or three with one swing. It wasn't very challenging, but it was a lot of fun anyway. Frost hadn't been truly unleashed in a long time. He supposed he still wasn't, but at least he was having a good time. One of the guards at the far end of the room slapped a red button on the wall and an alarm began to blare. Frost didn't care. It just meant the guards would be looking for him now, speeding along their deaths.

Frost came back to himself about ten seconds later. All the guards were dead or almost there. Blood coated the walls and tables like splashed paint from an overeager child. Bodies lay everywhere, a good twenty or thirty of them; it was hard to count with the pieces being so scattered and ravaged. Frost sighed. It was time to move on. He returned to the front room of the main building and embedded his scythe into the wall where he could retrieve it on the way out. It would be closer quarters combat inside the prison proper, with too little room for scythe play. Frost drew his second favorite weapons, the chainblade machetes invented by the Doc especially for him. Frost marched quickly into the prison, following the route he had memorized from his visit the night before. Doors were shut and locked before him, gates were barred and teams of guards with unleashed dogs seemed to wait behind every corner.

None of this slowed Frost. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion to him. Shotgun blasts barely mussed his hair and pistol rounds only fluttered at the edges of his mantle. Dogs leapt at him with fangs bared only to splatter to the ground in rains of meaty gobbets after being intercepted by the wailing chainblades. The teeth of the chainblades were made of the same material as the swords used by Ginns, and it had no trouble cutting through the simple steel of the doors and bars, not to mention the guard's weapons. Frost enjoyed the panic on the faces of the guard's when he cut their weapons to shreds in their hands, before slowly working his way along their hands and arms, flaying them with expert precision in seconds before quenching the spinning fangs of the machetes in their hearts. Frost was so superior to the guards in terms of ability that he could calmly torture them to death while they fought desperately to kill him with guns and stun batons. It was just the way of things for the BCPU 6. He wasn't a mere human anymore.

It took a while, because Frost was enjoying himself a bit more than orders strictly called for, but Frost reached cell block delta. He smiled. Kisaka was in such rough shape from last night's beat down that killing him was going to be far too easy. Frost admitted to himself that Kisaka had been a reasonably tough fighter, for a human. He'd lasted a good twenty seconds. Of course after that he'd been little more than a punching bag, but such is life. The steel door to cell block delta was shut and locked, of course, but Frost had beaten doors of this type all night. He slammed one chainblade into the left side of the door and one into the right and slowly began to cut his way through. It would only delay him by thirty seconds or so… just enough time to let anticipation heighten the experience.

----------------------------------------------

Alkire dropped through the ventilation opening into cell block delta. Vladimir was already working on Kisaka's cell door. Their exit point had been the ventilation shaft just outside Kisaka's cell, to cut down on time. Victor was standing watch, his eyes darting around nervously as the alarm continued to blare. It had been a tense ten minutes of high speed crawling through the narrow and dusty ducts to get to this point. Cagalli was standing at Vlad's shoulder, urging him to hurry. Athrun was at her side, a hand on her shoulder. Kira and Ysak watched other approach routes. It took Alkire a moment to realize Cagalli was crying.

"What happened?" he asked. Kira pointed numbly into Kisaka's cell. Alkire took off his NVG's to get a better look. "Holy fuck." He whispered. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling of Kisaka's cell were splashed with dried blood. Not gouts of it, but more than enough. The cot was a mass of red and white. It took Alkire a moment to realize the red parts were Kisaka while the whiter parts were the sheets. Kisaka was still breathing, but it was shallow and halting, indicating to Alkire's experienced eye that Kisaka was currently suffering at least a few broken ribs, in addition to whatever other injuries had caused the bleeding and laid the large man out unconscious.

"What the hell happened to him?" Victor asked, his german accent growing heavier. "He looks like he was mauled by a wild animal."

"Orb doesn't use torture in its prisons." Alkire said dumbly, shocked.

"He was not tortured. He was beaten. He fought his opponent and was totally overwhelmed." Vlad cut in. He worked at the lock a moment more and it suddenly sprang wide open.

"James, get a medical kit ready. Kisaka's in rough shape. The bad guys really worked him over good, and pretty recently too." Alkire radioed.

"Right. What do I need to be ready for?" James asked neutrally.

"Broken ribs, possibly injured spine, deep lacerations, concussion, internal bleeding, and unconsciousness… the full boat. Like I said, he's in rough shape. I've seen healthier looking corpses at a drive by shooting."

Victor edged into the cell and with Vlad's help lifted Kisaka gently from the cot. A lot of the sheets came with him, glued by dried blood. Alkire decided to ignore that, later, once they were safe they could clean him up. "Let's get a mov…" Alkire started to say before being interrupted by a hideous shrieking, ripping sound.

"The door!" Ysak yelled. Alkire ran to him. Three stories below, the door they were going to leave from was shuddering madly. Even as Alkire watched, what looked like two miniature chainsaws popped through the hardened steel door and started to chew their way downwards.

"That'll be Frost." Kira said unnecessarily. Alkire unlimbered his assault rifle, while Athrun and Kira moved to help Vlad with Kisaka. Victor, freed of medic duty, drew his saber and his pistol. Ysak and Cagalli drew their firearms as well. Everyone aimed at the rapidly disintegrating door.

"When the door goes, don't stop firing until you run out of bullets or the blood stops flying." Victor said grimly. Shockingly quickly, the vibrating and howling blades sliced their way through the door. Every ten seconds or so they would disappear, pulled back only to reappear in another location almost as soon as they were gone. Forty five seconds after the first blade hit the door; Frost kicked it off its hinges. The door tumbled into the cell block, a mass of twisted steel. Gunshots rang out before the door even hit the ground. Frost dived forward, feeling shots pluck at his mantle… one even whispered along the skin of his cheek, drawing a bloody crease. The fire was coming from the direction of Kisaka's cell. Looks like someone was attempting a rescue. Harsh luck for them.

"He's fast." Victor cursed, trying to bring Frost back into his sights. He wasn't having much luck, the small man moved like greased shadows, and his flapping mantle helped conceal the actual position of his body masterfully well. Before any of the weapons could run dry, even Alkire firing on full auto, Frost had reached cover underneath one of the two staircases that serviced the five story cell block.

"Fuck." Alkire swore, changing magazines. "He's on the left stairs. Everyone, move right. We'll try a fighting retreat. It's our only chance. We can't let the bastard get within melee range or we're all dead." Victor's pistol roared again.

"He's coming up the stairs! Gott damn, but I've never seen anyone move so fast!"

"Go! Go!" Alkire shouted, swinging back to cover the stairs. Victor was right. Frost was racing up the stairs, seeming more to float than run. He was zigging and zagging back and forth so much Alkire couldn't get a solid bead on him. Alkire started firing anyway, in the faint hope of scoring a lucky strike. He wasn't lucky tonight. In less than a minute, Frost had reached the third landing and was now only about fifty feet away, if still around a corner. The assault rifle clicked empty. Alkire knew he didn't have the time to reload it, with such a quick opponent.

"Move, Major!" Victor screamed, heaving a large brick of grey matter past Alkire's head. Alkire saw tiny red numerals ticking down steadily on one side of the brick. Alkire jumped over the railing, ejecting his spent magazine and reloading in mid fall. He'd worry about landing after he survived the blast. The explosion came like the end of the world. Light and heat dominated the left side of the building, followed almost instantly by fire, smoke and blast concussion, which ripped the bars out of every cell on the third, fourth and second stories. The concussion hammered into Alkire's falling form, throwing him across the room to land skidding into a roll on his back. The far wall on the first floor stopped his roll rather painfully. He'd be feeling that landing for a while. Alkire hauled himself to his feet. The entire left side of the building was little more than a flaming mass of rubble.

"Alkire!" Kira called urgently. He was standing in the doorway leading to the rest of the prison. "Everyone else is already out! Come on!" he disappeared into the hallway. Alkire limped towards the door. The rubble on the left suddenly shifted and Frost crawled out. His mantle was gone, as was his shirt. Blood covered him, but he seemed quite unimpeded. He had lost his chainblades during the blast, but was now brandishing a wicked looking serrated carving knife. Alkire grabbed a tear gas canister from his bandoleer and rolled it at the freak, following it with a flash bang and a smoke grenade for good measure. Alkire then bolted out the door as fast as he could.

----------------------------

Frost snarled in rage. The bomb had been unexpected. And now his favorite mantle and prized chainblades were lost within the flaming rubble. Frost was angry. The tear gas did little more than make him sneeze, but it along with the smoke from the fire and grenade obscured his vision, and he was a little disoriented from the blast and the rubble falling on him. It took him nearly three minutes to find the damn doorway. He pounced out into the hall, landing in a crouch like an animal. No enemies were in sight. He'd be sure to give the one with the sword a painful death, for causing him such inconvenience. Frost took off at a sprint, eager to catch up with the enemy before they could get outside and scatter. The walls blurred into meaningless patterns as Frost pushed himself to ever greater speed. Within twenty seconds he was once again in the main building. No enemies, though the front doors still swung slightly on their hinges. Frost sheathed his carving knife and yanked his scythe out of the wall where he'd left it. Now they would pay.

James jumped the jeep out of the woods with teenagers hanging on for dear life. Raine sat in the passenger seat, sniper rifle up and aimed the moment the jeep slid to a stop. Vlad, Kira, Ysak and Athrun burst out of the front doors, hauling Kisaka. They were moving like the devil himself was on their asses. Victor followed not a moment later, sword and pistol gripped in bloody fists and smoke trailing from singed clothing. A huge pall of smoke and flame loomed from one of the prison blocks farther back, presumably block delta.

"What the fuck was that explosion!" Raine shouted as Victor came loping up.

"My fucking plastique, that's what! All of it!" he replied. "Gun's couldn't stop him and I sure as hell wasn't going to fence with that monster."

By this time the people helping Kisaka had reached the jeep and were gently loading him into the back as fast as they could. "Let me at him!" James cried, brandishing the medical kit. Alkire burst out of the front doors, his uniform ripped to shreds, assault rifle in one hand and pistol in the other. He dashed for the jeep, glancing over his shoulder every few steps. He had only barely reached the jeep when a flash of steely light at the prison doors announced Frost's presence. Frost came charging out the doors with scythe trailing point down along the ground, sowing a stream of sparks in his wake. Victor, Vlad, Alkire and Raine opened up with everything they had. A second later, Kira, Athrun, Ysak, Cagalli and Dearka joined in. A withering fusillade of fire blazed at Frost.

Frost was angrier than he'd ever been before. He was this close to failing the goddamned mission! That had never happened before. He refused to let the gunfire slow him even a little. It was only a hundred and fifty yards to the jeep. He could do that in eight seconds if he pushed himself. Bullets whip lashed past him and even into him, now that he wasn't taking the time to do more than rudimentary dodging. Bullets chewed chunks out of his arms and shoulders and thighs, a few high powered sniper rounds even flashed through his chest, but Frost didn't feel them. Unless they hit a vital implant or his brain, a few bullets wouldn't stop him. Five seconds left.

Alkire threw down his weapons. "Everyone get into the jeep!" he screamed. He dived into the recently vacated driver's seat. He waited only two seconds before gunning the jeep into a two hundred degree turn and stomped the pedal as far down as it could go. He left smoking tire marks two hundred yards long on his way out of the parking lot. "Did we lose him?" he shouted.

"Not yet!" James yelled back, his voice full of concern.

"What the fuck!" Alkire twisted around. True to James's words, Frost was still gaining on them, if slower with every passing moment. Finally the jeep's velocity exceeded that of the BCPU and he began to fall behind.

"NO!" Frost roared and leapt, scythe swinging downwards in a desperate lunge. The blade bit into the bumper of the jeep and caught. Frost was now being dragged behind the jeep. Frost began to pull himself up the scythe handle.

"It's like something out of an old movie!" James snarled, dropping the medkit and pulling out his twin machine pistols. The distance to Frost was less than six feet. He opened up with both guns, each spewing out lead at a rate of sixty shots per second. Both guns clicked empty a half second later. Frost no longer held onto the scythe, though the weapon was still embedded in the rear fender. Frost lay on his stomach a hundred yards back and lengthening. He pounded a bullet riddled fist into the ground in frustration and slowly got to his feet. He'd have to report the failure. And then he'd have to fucking get his god damn scythe back.

"GRAAHHHH!" Frost screamed into the night, a primal howl of fury unrequited and vengeance to been soon sated. He then turned and limped back towards the prison, to find a phone to call Cervantes.


	30. The New Models precursor

Kisaka's eyes slowly fluttered open. Alkire bent over and triple checked some of the bandages and salves that had been applied to the gravely injured man during the last six hours. "Glad to see you're awake, instructor."

"Robert? What are you doing here? Where is here?" Kisaka groaned.

"Here is a rented house about thirty minutes drive from the prison. As for why I'm here, well, I'm here by request. There's a few people who would like a few words with you, starting with…" Alkire said, signaling to Cagalli, who bounded over.

"Kisaka! It's good to see you're alive!" she said, wiping away an errant tear at the sight of her father's chief of security and her long time bodyguard. Kisaka was covered from head to toe in bandages. There was hardly a fingerwidth of flesh on the large man that wasn't covered with some form of medical tape or cloth bandage. The final total of injuries had run to four broken ribs, three cracked ribs, two dislocated shoulders, a broken forearm, a cracked skull, a heavy concussion, a shattered shin, three chipped teeth, innumerable deep bruises on the chest and upper limbs, six deep lacerations, one on the chest, two on the head, one on each arm and one on the lower back, and a sprained spine.

"I almost wish I wasn't. Didn't you give me any painkillers?" Kisaka groused.

"All of the ones in the medical kit I scrounged. Do you want I give you some Tylenol?" Alkire asked.

"Shut up and go away." Kisaka retorted.

"Is that any way to thank the guy who broke into prison to get you free? Just before you were due to be executed too."

"They were going to kill me? Cervantes and his dog Asmodeus interviewed me… two nights ago now. They wanted me to be their scapegoat and to tell them where you were hiding, Robert. I thought they were going to keep me around for a bit longer. I certainly don't know how much I could have resisted if they'd drugged me, especially after that little demon Frost worked me over." Kisaka said, surprised and bitter.

"Frost did this to you?" Cagalli asked.

"One more crime to lay at his feet." Athrun said grimly, coming up to stand behind her.

"Yes, Frost did this to me. It wasn't exactly in a fair fight… though we were both unarmed I'm just a normal guy and he certainly isn't. I managed to hold him off for a half a minute or so, got in a few good blows, or so I thought, but he was just playing with me. I don't remember much beyond general pain after he picked me up and bashed me against the sink. I'm just glad he was under time constraint or he would have almost certainly done permanent harm, orders to the contrary or not."

"So Cervantes and Asmodeus just watched while Frost beat you?" Alkire asked.

"Well, they certainly didn't join in. I got the feeling they were glad to have the bars between Frost and them. He doesn't strike me as the most controllable of tools."

"Yeah… he's certainly not sane. He was the guy they sent to kill you about six hours ago. It was… pretty rough." Raine said, having come up behind Alkire. It was just then that Kisaka noticed how Alkire was pretty taped up himself.

"Damn, Robert, you look nearly as bad as me! What happened?"

"Roughly 3.5 kilos of plastic explosive at a distance of fifty feet, compounded with a thirty foot fall."

"Why the hell were you using so much explosive? A quarter kilo is more than enough for practically any conceivable situation."

"I was in a bit of a panic. Gunfire wasn't slowing Frost down at all and if he got any closer than he was at that time, we were all dog food. He butchered sixty guards and their guard dogs in less than ten minutes, and half of those were armed and hunting for him. And he did it without any firearms." Victor said defensively.

"Oh, so guns weren't stopping him, so you decided to drop half the prison on everybody's head? I taught you better than that."

"Let's see how calm you are when that maniac comes after you with two chainsaws. He's still out there."

"You mean the bomb didn't get him?"

"No. Neither did a good six to eight hundred rounds from a total of about nine people. Or being dragged for fifty yards at sixty miles an hour over rough pavement. Or having James unload both of his machine pistols into his arms and upper body at less than six feet. The little freak is nigh indestructible!" Victor ranted.

"Well, you do have to remember that he's not human any more. From the scale of the mechanical and biological implants that were in that girl that Ysak disabled in Switzerland, I'm not too surprised at his capabilities. Frost is supposed to be more advanced that she was, presumably, and the things the doctors found in her were amazing to say the least. Automated heart and lungs, armored organs, coagulant dispensers tied to the bloodstream, adrenaline synthesizers, metal reinforced bone structure, condensed skin cells and a cocktail of combat drug injectors potent enough to kill an entire rehab center. And that's just the stuff I remember off the top of my head. There was a lot more inside her. Just about her only vulnerable points were her eyes, nose and ears. And we can assume Frost is better made and protected than she was." Kisaka countered. He slowly eased himself to a sitting position with a grimace. Cagalli reached out to him.

"Are you sure you should be moving so soon? You should really be in a hospital, except there's none to take you to."

"There is no time. If Frost survived he has no doubt alerted Cervantes and Asmodeus by now. You are familiar with the Hellhound, I'm sure, Robert. It won't take him long at all to track us down." Kisaka turned to Cagalli. "Why did you come to Orb, princess? It's very dangerous for you to be here, even with that rudimentary disguise. If you are recognized, you'll be thrown in jail and taken before the world court and they won't go easy on you at all."

"It probably wouldn't go to the world court." Alkire cut in. "With Cervantes now ruler of Orb for all practical purposes, with relief aka occupation forces already entrenched in Orb, if Cagalli or especially Athrun were recognized, they'd not outlive a public pogrom hosted courtesy of the neighborhood Blue Cosmos leadership. Cervantes can't risk having figures for his opposition to rally around. That's probably why he decided to have you diced up, Kisaka."

"Even worse then. Why did you place yourself and your friends in such danger to come here, Princess? Please don't say it was just to break me out of jail."

"Well… that was the initial goal, yes. But my motive for getting you out of prison was to find out where you stashed our mobile suits. And to get the location of the Archangel and the other ships from you. War is brewing, Kisaka. Cervantes has manipulated both sides into believing they were treacherously sneak attacked by each other. Junius Six was raided by Frost, while Pearl Harbor has been nuked." Cagalli replied.

"Well, I suppose that is a good enough reason. Still, you should have left it to the professionals. Much as I hate to say it, that would be you and your friends, Robert. Why did you allow Cagalli to come into Orb?"

"What? You're not blaming me for this? For one thing, she has me outnumbered. For another, you're her bodyguard; you know what she's like! If I hadn't offered to fly her here, she would have run away from my house and bought a commercial ticket, probably without disguising herself! Then she would have had a nice cell right next to yours, from which you could berate her to your hearts content while you waited for Frost to kill you both." Alkire retorted.

"I suppose that I'll take your duress into consideration. I do know how Cagalli can be. She's been even more free willed since the end of the war that she was before. But on to business. You want to get your mobile suits. You're in luck. The research facility where they are stored is not far from the prison. I always found it bitterly ironic. Not a fifteen minute walk from where I was confined was enough firepower to level the nation, but I couldn't get to it. If you'll give me a phone, I'll warn Dr. Simmons that we'll be coming so she can disarm the security system. I can probably guide you to the facility from here, but like I said before we should get moving quickly. If Asmodeus gets here with some military forces, we'll never make it there."

"Well then what are we waiting for?" James said cheerfully, coming up behind Raine. He pushed through the crowd of people around the bed and gently lifted Kisaka to his feet before lifting him into a fireman's carry. "Geez, Instructor. You've gained some weight since school." James complained.

"The scars of running an entire nation. I did not have nearly enough time for my usual exercise program and I was falling behind my standards." Kisaka replied.

"Yeah… about that… once we've fixed everything… I want my job back, Kisaka. It was incredibly nice of you to be my regent, but I can't just shirk the job any more." Cagalli spoke up as everyone piled into the large van. Alkire took the wheel.

"You weren't shirking the job. Orb's constitution clearly states that the Representative must be at least twenty years old, no matter their actual depth of life experience in the subject. You're still a few years from the benchmark, though I'm sure you could find some way around it. There's likely to be little resistance if you manage to clear your name and stop the war." Kisaka replied.

"That's another thing. I'm really sorry for getting you dragged into this whole scandal thing…" Athrun began. Kisaka waved it off with a grimace.

"What's done is done. The fault lies with them, not with you. You didn't do anything more than slightly illegal, since you are engaged. When I was your age I was already guilty of worse offenses."

"Really?" Cagalli asked, interested.

"Give me the phone." Kisaka ordered. James handed him his. Kisaka grumbled his way through punching in a long number with his heavily bandaged hand. Forestalling Cagalli's questions with a glare, Kisaka held the phone to his head. "Hello. Yes, I never thought I'd be calling again either. Some old students of mine and Cagalli's friends broke me out. Yes, recently. I'm in pretty rough shape due to an encounter with the enemy, so if you could bring a more comprehensive medical kit… thanks. Just unlock the security systems for me. I'll be there in ten minutes. Right. Thank you. See you soon." Kisaka paused. "Dr. Simmons will meet us there. Just drive past the prison on the road that leads up to it, Robert. You'll come to a dead end about two miles further up the road. Just keep driving straight; you'll hit a hidden trail. Follow the trail until it dead ends in a cave. Inside the cave will be the security systems, which will hopefully have been disarmed."

"Aye aye, sir. My name is currently Alkire though, if you would use it, please."

"Why did you change your name?"

"Robert Jones got gunned down deserting EFSOU after the N-Jammer Canceller fiasco. Alkire Majesty has no connection to him, and so doesn't have any of his enemies. Well, that's the idea anyway."

"That's the best name you could come up with? It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel." Kisaka said cuttingly. Alkire argued with him about it for the entire trip, not making much headway. Almost everybody agreed with Kisaka. Alkire Majesty was just too false sounding.

"If it's so false, why do you guys call me by it?" Alkire asked his teammates as the van lurched into the cave.

"It is the job of friends to humor friends." Vlad replied. "It's the same way with James and his tattoos, which are stupid. He's a friend, so we just play along."

"Yeah!" James said. "Wait… no… you don't like my ram's horns?"

"No matter how you slice it, they're pretty distinctive. People stare at you all the time. It makes going out in public with you pretty uncomfortable." Victor replied. He turned and looked out a side window. "Wow, that's a rather large gun turret. I'm glad it's not armed.

"There's one on this side too." Ysak said. "It looks a lot like the anti-armor gatling guns the Earth Forces use for point defense."

"Except that these are automated. If Dr. Simmons hadn't locked them down for a while, they'd have shredded this van the moment it entered the cave." Kisaka explained. "Keep driving… Alkire. Its a few hundred meters inside."

---------------------------------------

Asmodeus lowered his NV binoculars. "I wonder what's inside that cave?" he whispered.

"A safe house?" Dyre conjectured.

"No. It's too isolated and easily surrounded. They'd just be cornering themselves." Asmodeus replied. "I think it's a depot."

"Ammunition? Weapons?" Dyre asked.

"Mobile suits."

"Mobile suits?"

"The younger people, the male teenagers, they are pilots, some of the best ZAFT ever had. One of them was the original pilot of the Freedom."

"Isn't letting them get to the mobile suits a bad thing then, sir?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. We have no way of knowing what state the mobile suits inside that bunker are in. They might only be half built. Or they could be just waiting for the pilots. In any case, they don't know we're out here. Kisaka probably suspects, but he doesn't know for sure. When the Strike Dagger platoon gets here, we'll have them caged. They can't all ride in the mobile suits, which means we'll be able to take hostages. We can then use those hostages to force those in the mobile suits to surrender. We'll take out our enemies and advance our mobile suit technologies by several years, all in one swoop."

"What if it doesn't work out that way, sir? What if they just let us kill the hostages? That's what I would do."

"Thankfully, they aren't as well versed at this as you. Even Jones and Kisaka have always been gentle idealists at heart, unwilling to accept collateral casualties. And besides, most of the hostages are the lovers and kin of the pilots."

"And?" Dyre said questioningly.

"We're not all as mercenary as you, Dyre. To some people it means quite a lot when you sleep with someone and blood has always been a strong tie."

"I'm just playing devil's advocate, sir."

"Yes, that's one reason you're around."

"What about the reserve troops? We have five squads of Strike Crusaders in Orb right now, along with your Purifier and the Fury."

"Two of the Crusader Squads have been diverted here as backup, as have the Purifier and the Fury. They'll be the containment force, if the Strike Dagger's can't win by ambush. You are current on the Strike Crusader, of course?"

"Yes sir. I'm pretty good with the beasts."

"You'll lead the Daggers in then. I'm relying on you to curb your trigger happy nature until the enemy has surrendered to spare the hostages you WILL take alive."

Dyre forced himself not to object, knowing that it would do nothing good for him. "Yes, sir."

"I'll lead the containment force of the rest of the Crusaders, once the Purifier gets here. Frost will be our last resort, in case both of us cannot stop them."

"Can we count on him? I was part of the retrieval team and I tell you, sir, he had the shit kicked out of him. He was more dead than alive."

"Frost has remarkable healing capabilities, you know of course. He won't be at his best, but he doesn't need to be at his usual vitality to pilot the Fury. Besides, he'd find some way to fight anyway, if we didn't let him. He is quite incensed about the loss of his scythe. It's one of the few things he treasures."

"It's all he would talk about on the flight to the hospital." Dyre agreed. "What is the ETA on our troops, sir?"

Asmodeus looked at his watch. "Oh… about twenty minutes. Try and contain your excitement until then, corporal."


	31. The New Models

"Dr. Simmons!" Kira said, pleased to see the brilliant Orb engineer again.

"Kira." She nodded her head. "How are things going?"

"There are ups and downs." Lacus replied, linking her arm protectively with Kira's. Erica smiled.

"I can see that. Cagalli… Athrun, you have my utmost sympathies."

"Thank you." Athrun replied. "I hope you poured some of that caring into your work."

"Oh, more than a bit. I've cooked up some real monsters for you guys. It's astounding the technological leaps I've been able to make once I had access to the data files from the Justice and Freedom, as well as the combat data I salvaged from the Duel and Buster and Strike Rouge. Having first chop at the defense budget helped too, thanks to Kisaka." Erica replied.

"I figured that despite our hopes, peace was going to have trouble coming to pass. We'd need some enforcers, and I knew you people wouldn't be able to leave well enough alone. You're all too noble by half." Kisaka explained. "Besides, the prototype researches made from some useful advances with Astray technology as well. The new Guardians are generations ahead of where they would otherwise be."

"And who are you people? Kisaka's friends, I presume." Erica said, addressing Alkire and the TEMPEST members.

"Well… friends might be stretching it, but we get along. I'm Alkire Majesty." Alkire replied.

"Raine Belaruse."

"Victor Klein."

"James Ramsgoth."

"Vladimir Valkavich."

Erica shook everyone's hands, noting Vlad's hand instantly. "A prosthetic?" she asked.

"Two. Maybe I can show you some other time." Vlad said, uncomfortable.

"And who are these two young ladies?" Erica asked, indicating Chanel and Katie who were pulling Ysak in opposite directions. Chanel wanted to explore the scientific spaces, while Katie wanted the mobile suit hanger. Both wished to have Ysak with them.

"I'm Chanel."

"I'm Katie."

"Pleased to meet you." They said in unison. Erica hid a smile behind her hand.

"Likewise. Well, without further delay, let me show you the fruits of my hard work and that of my fellow technicians. I've been waiting for this day for months. You guys are going to go crazy. Come on." Erica beckoned everyone after her. James helped Kisaka along, but everyone else crowded close behind Erica as she entered the first mobile suit stall. Everyone gasped in awe, even those who were old hands at mobile suits.

The machine towered seventeen meters into the air, the height of a five story building. It was entirely grey at the moment, but all machines with phase shift armor were like that. It was clearly the Duel, but changed quite a bit. For one, the machine seemed a lot sleeker, less blocky. "What did you do to my mobile suit?" Ysak stammered.

"Trust me; you'll like it better the way it is." Erica assured him. "This is the ZGMF-D1, or the Duelist. We added a nuclear reactor, which allowed us to reduce the weight of the extra armor provided by the assault shroud. In fact, it's now only a little bit heavier than the original Duel, at seventy five tons. It should handle much better in gravity now. After studying Ysak's combat data, we figured he liked a sort of up close and personal combat style, so that's what we configured the Duelist for. It's got plenty of air and ground maneuverability, roughly equivalent to the Aile Striker of old. It's just about as fast too. Now you don't have to worry about being led around the battlefield by an agile enemy, you should be able to keep up with most anybody."

"Now, for the actual features. It is phase shift armored; we figured it was best to stick with overall proven defensive technologies. Of course, with the reactor installed, it doesn't run the risk of a combat power down. For weapons it carries a new innovation, the dual 57mm high energy beam rifle. It's much like the old 57mm beam rifle, except that it fires two beams at once, for twice the damage, though at only slightly more than 150 the power and heat. The dual 57's are carried by some of the other machines as well, as standard ranged weaponry. It still carries twin beam sabers for close work. The railgun on the right shoulder has been increased to 120mm, while the missile pack has been removed from the left shoulder and replaced with a rotary 25mm gatling beam cannon, which puts out quite a bit of firepower, even if it lacks much penetration ability. The missile pack has been separated into two separate hip mounted heat seeking missile 6 racks."

"The shield is also new, though it looks similar to the older models. Instead of beam-dissipitation coating, this shield and the ones like it are beam deflecting models. They actually reflect incoming beams back onto themselves, causing them to fizzle out without harming the shield. There are of course limits to what they can block, I wouldn't try and stop a Lohengrin with one, but they are much more effective than the old shields. Again, beam reflecting shields are standard issue with most of the other suits. The Duelist's shield has several extra features though. Those three spiky projections on the center are beam grapples like the Guaize carries, connected to 300 meter macro-molecular cables. The edge of the shield, as you can see, is serrated. The edge of the shield is like a giant chainsaw blade, allowing it to be used for offense as well as defense. The teeth cannot cut through phase shift armor, but anything else is easy prey. Now, for the crowning achievement. See the dark blue cloaky thing hanging down the back? That's not just a drapery. It's called a photon cloak. It's a superconductor cloth, extremely strong. Any sort of beam or heat attack that strikes that cloth is instantly absorbed and dissipated as a blast of bright light. The cloth's tolerances are extreme; it would take multiple Lohengrin blasts within a short time to melt it. On the downside is that physical attacks… guns, missiles, railguns and the like… well, the cloak doesn't protect at all against them, and can be easily destroyed by them. So… what do you think?" she asked Ysak.

Ysak's eyes were a little glassy. "That's a lot of new shit. I'll have to take a closer look. I won't know for sure until I give it a good test."

"Feel free. Just catch up with us later." Erica beckoned everyone else after her as she headed to the next stall. Dearka clapped Ysak on the back in congratulations as he passed.

"You already like it." He muttered. Ysak gave a barely perceptible nod. Katie tugged at his arm.

"Show me, show me!" she pleaded.

"Show us!" Chanel corrected, pulling him towards the machine.

--------------------

"Next we have the mobile suit we all here call the Grand Buster. The technical name is the ZGMF-GB1. As you may have surmised, it's an upgrade to the Buster Gundam."

"I'll say. It looks… bloated." Dearka said. This machine was also grey, with phase shift down. It was taller than the Duelist, closer to six stories. And it did look bloated. The torso bulged outwards on all four axes, while the arms and legs were more tubular and larger than before. Massive weapons hung all over it, including a truly titanic gun that looked more like a launch tube for a passenger shuttle than a gun barrel.

"We prefer to say it's bulked up. It's also accommodating a nuclear reactor nowadays. Admittedly, it has gained a good deal of weight, in fact it's almost doubled in mass and that has had an effect on the already mediocre speed and maneuverability of the machine. I wouldn't expect to turn any cartwheels when piloting this machine, if I were you."

"I'm gonna get eaten alive on the battlefield! I had a hard enough time staying out of harms reach when it was MORE maneuverable!" Dearka complained.

"With this beast, if an enemy gets to within even medium range then it'll only be because of gross negligence on your part. Its armor is very thick, roughly 250 of that of the original Buster. But the area it truly shines in is firepower, of both the direct and indirect fire varieties. Each shoulder mounts a 57mm beam cannon in a fully 360 degree rotating turret. Mounted just below the beam turret is a laser guided missile 15 rack, with two more identical missile racks mounted at the hips. Four 20mm CIWS gatling guns are mounted in the head, while two more CIWS weapons cover the back arc of the machine." Erica said proudly.

"Now, getting off the secondary weapon systems, we come to the primaries. The right hand hefts a 250mm hyper impulse beam cannon, a cut down version of the weapon carried by the Launcher Striker. It is still powerful enough to destroy a medium warship with one shot. The left hand holds an old favorite, the 400mm anti-armor shotgun, which you have used to good effect many times in the past. Unlike the Buster gundam though, these two weapons do not combine to make a third. Rather, the third weapon is separate, though it is the Grand Buster's crowning glory." Erica continued. She pointed at the enormous gun thing currently mounted on the center of the machine's back.

"That… is the the 200cm "Earthshaker" artillery cannon." She intoned.

"Wait… 200 CENTI-METERS!" Dearka sputtered. "That's unreal! That's bigger than the main guns of the Lessups class. By a lot!"

"So it is. The Earthshaker isn't a weapon you fire at enemies who are close by. Or indeed, even within line of sight. The Grand Buster can only carry six shells at a time, and the weapon is single action, which means you have to manually reload after each shot, which can take some time. On the plus side though, the high explosive shells it fires are capable of destroying a Lesseps with a single hit. Crater diameter is estimated to be around fifteen meters, half that deep. Blast damage is usually felt out to around thirty meters, that being the usual area of total destruction. Outside that, partial damage effect can range up to 100 meters from the impact point. We don't know how it works in space just yet, but we expect an overall 20 increase in blast area due to the lack of atmosphere. Range in atmosphere maxes out at 80km, with a maximum arcing altitude of 10km… more than enough to shoot over all but the tallest mountains. The legs have been fitted with special retractable brace supports to handle the kick of the weapon, I would not advise firing it without making sure they are properly situated."

Dearka was trembling. Miriallia pinched him. "Don't drool. You'll probably never get to fire it."

"I'll find a way." He swore.

"Now for the extra goodies. The head has those bat like ears." Erica was saying, indicating the head. "Those are the domes for the Long Range Radar array, which has an effective range of 100km in atmosphere, 100x that in space. With that array, your opponents will have to be Mirage Colloided to escape your notice, and actually, we have a way to protect against that as well. It's called the vari-camera array and it's also in the head. It's hard to explain in layman's terms, but basically it uses a battery of different cameras and sensors… magnetic, infared, seismic, radio-wave, sonic, electron active, atmospherics and a few more besides… to provide a completely clear picture of whatever you aim them at. The resolution quality is astounding and the attached computer systems use the collected data to accurately estimate the capabilities of enemy machines and weapons, even ones we've never seen before. The array has a maximum range of roughly five hundred meters, so you do have to be relatively close to use it. Within those five hundred meters, the array can detect Mirage Colloided units as easily as radar picks out normal machines."

"That's a lot of special electronics for me to keep track of." Dearka noted.

Erica smiled mysteriously. "You bring me to the next feature admirably. As you noticed before, the torso area seems a bit large in comparison with the limbs. There is a reason for this. Several actually. First is the advanced targeting computers necessary for accurately firing the Earthshaker, trying to aim it manually at anything smaller than a hillside is very hit or miss… mostly the latter. Second are the CIC command computers and data links integrated within the targeting computers, these control the LRR array and the vari-cameras as well as provide complete tactical and strategic situation analysis and planning functions."

"I hate to break this to you, but I'm really not the commander sort of guy. I'm not so good at strategies. It sounds like you made this Grand Buster out to be some sort of command model or something." Dearka protested.

"We did." Erica assured him. "But you don't have to worry about it. The primary reason the torso is so big is to accommodate the tandem seat."

"The what?" Dearka sputtered.

"The tandem seat. An extra cockpit location situated just in front of the pilot's chair. From this forward seat the co-pilot handles the vari-camera and LRR arrays, as well as uses the CIC computers to plan out and organize plans of attack and defense and assists the pilot in programming the Earthshaker computers for artillery strikes. The setup is similar to that found in the LaGowe, with the pilot and gunner positions."

"I don't need a damn co-pilot!" Dearka snarled. Erica smiled disarmingly at him.

"That's too bad. I had the system designed with a very specific person in mind, and I was sure you weren't going to have a problem with… HER." She said nastily.

"What?" Dearka asked, off balance.

"Well, as you've pointed out, you're not so good at the command and control aspect of battle. Happily, there is one among us with extensive knowledge of just that. I believe you know her quite well. At least, that's what Kisaka told me anyway…"

"You mean…" Dearka said, turning to look.

"Yes. Let me introduce Miriallia Haw, co-pilot and tactician of the Grand Buster." Erica replied, gesturing grandly at Miriallia, who looked surprised.

"Me? But I've never…" she started to say.

"Never what? You were the Archangels's CIC operator from the moment you first volunteered yourself in space. I'd say you did an admirable job, considering you'd never done anything like that before. All we really did was put you into a more mobile location, with newer, fancier gear. With a trusty pilot who we can assume has your best interests and safety foremost in his heart. I'm sure you'll both make a wonderful team."

"I didn't think you actually read those reports I sent." Kisaka said amiably.

"Even I get bored with technical stuff eventually, Colonel. I happened to glance through them when I was in the design stage and the cupidity of the idea stuck."

Dearka and Miriallia were staring at each other and the massive machine nervously. "Umm… well… we should… uh… get started. See what it can do and all." Dearka said haltingly. Miriallia kissed him. "What's that for?"

"No reason. I'm suddenly feeling a lot better about you going into combat. I'll be your boss and now I'll be able to keep a very close eye on you indeed, to keep you out of trouble." She replied. Everyone shared a laugh at Dearka's expense, before moving on to the next machine, leaving the Dearka and Miriallia behind to start working through their new joint home.

-----------------------

"Now, these next two machines were tough. I had a hard time improving on them, which should come as no surprise; since they were made by the best and brightest the PLANTS have to offer. Really, all I managed to do was make a few tweaks and a few design upgrades, as well as stick in a few goodies, but the structural frames and capabilities are basically the same. Well, without further ado…" Erica entered the next stall, which was dark. She hit a small button and floodlights sparkled on. The illuminated machine was painted in brilliant shades of red and royal purple, with white and silver trim. A large flyer unit formed an "X" of wings on the machine's back.

"This is the ZGMF-X19A Justice II. Or, as we prefer to call it… the Righteous. I had it painted so you can see what it looks like in its full glory. Plus, it was a joy to paint. Anyway, as you can see, the basic concept hasn't changed much. It's much more of an "in your face" fighter than its counterpart, just like the Justice was to the Freedom. We've upgraded the flyer pack, its now two independent flyer packs, though it still serves the same general purpose… allowing unaided high maneuverability atmospheric flight, either attached to the back or if surfed upon in the upright position. You will want to watch how you match your velocities when surfing; you might tear off a leg if you punch the afterburners on one and keep the other at cruising speed. Alternatively, the flyers can be remotely controlled, just like the old one or preprogrammed to follow specific attack or defense strategies. The inbuilt AI is quite good, if I do say so myself, capable of handling itself in most situations."

"For offensive capabilities the Righteous carries a dual 57mm beam rifle in place of its old single, as well as the same old dual bladed beam sabers you wielded so well. Each flyer pack mounts a twin barrel 75mm automatic cannon which can swivel 180 degrees, it's based off the assault rifle carried by the standard Ginn. Ammunition on those runs a little tight, so be careful. Each flyer pack also carries a forward facing laser guided missile 20 pack; you can't use them effectively except when surfing or when the units are independent, I'm sorry. The beam boomerangs are still in the shoulders, those were too good to pass up. Mounted on the shoulders, underneath the flyer units but not attached to them are two 250mm railguns, kind of like the mount you see on some BuCues. Finally, the wings and noses of the flyer units mount beam saber attachments that allow them to be used for flyby and ramming attacks."

"It certainly has been beefed up." Athrun said. "It looks both taller and heavier."

"It is both." Erica confirmed. "But we managed to keep the same maneuvering and speed capabilities due to the flyer packs and a few upgraded engines and computer control systems. The interface is a little messy; you will probably want to change it around to suit yourself, but you'd be far better at that than me, so I left it until now. Next is the defensive systems. You can see it carries a beam deflecting shield, though without the extras the Duelist sports. However, the real kicker is something you can't really see."

Erica walked over to a computer terminal and a hologram of the Righteous sprang into existence between her and the group. "It's an outgrowth of the Mirage Colloid technology. I like to call it the "Angel Halo", because it is used by our guardian angels. Basically it is a reduced form of Mirage Colloid. The particles released do not render the machine invisible, but rather making the outlines blurry and hard to pinpoint, much like looking through thick foggy glass. This effect is both visual and sensor based, so it provides protection against anything short of a Vari-Camera array. Most targeting systems will have a hard time tracking you or achieveing a solid target lock when the Halo is active, with eye firing having similar problems. It is very hard to look at the machine for very long when the system is up with the naked eye; it starts to hurt after a minute or two. An upshot to the system is that it can be used in conjunction with the Phase Shift armor, so you don't have to worry about a lucky shot breaking through and taking you out. Also, the particles diffuse beams, lowering their power by a good 50. Maybe not enough to prevent damage, but enough to turn a deadly hit into just a bad one."

"What are the downsides?" Athrun asked.

"It has a time limit. The system is powered by special batteries that generate a very precisely modulated current to activate and control the particles. The batteries can maintain the Halo for an hour before they must charge off the reactor for five minutes. The reactor cannot be used to power the system directly; the Halo particles won't accept the cruder currents the reactor produces."

"That's it? The time limit?" Athrun said, incredulous. Erica smiled.

"It's a pinnacle of defensive technology. We were going to mount it in the other machines, but the cost… just making one Angel Halo cost as much as the original production costs for the Freedom and Justice combined. And that is NOT cheap. Other than that, there are no downsides. The batteries aren't even explosive. Oh, and to prevent any more heroics like we almost witnessed at GENESIS, I've moved the self destruct activation sequence to Cagalli's machine."

"Hah! Your life is mine!" Cagalli crowed.

"It was already." Athrun muttered. "I can't wait to get into this thing. Pardon me Kira, but I'll look at yours later. The same for Cagalli's."

"No problem." Kira replied. He hated mobile suits and even he was impressed by the grandeur of Athrun's machine. He looked at Lacus, who was studying him. "It's a nice piece of machinery, but I still don't like them." He assured her.

"As long as you keep that in mind." She replied.

---------------------------------

"Next to last, we come to the other guardian angel." Erica announced, walking into another dark stall and flipping on the lights. Like the Righteous, this machine was also painted up. It featured the same black, blue, white and red color scheme as the Freedom, but had gold edging on the wings and head. "Again, there wasn't much we could do to improve it."

"It's slightly bulkier, due to the batteries for the Angel Halo, right?" Kira said.

"Those and for the special weapon you see there on the center chest. It's a weapon we borrowed from ZAFT and I put it there with you and your philosophy specifically in mind. But I'll get to that later. You still have the HiMAT system. You still have your multi-target lock computer. You still have the same maneuverability and speed you had before. The only thing we really changed was beefing up the firepower. The Freedom was a bit of a "Stand Off" model. You stayed at medium range and used your massive array of weapons to dominate your enemies. We built this machine, the ZGMF-X20A Freedom II or Liberty, on that principle as well."

"The Liberty." Kira let the name roll around his head. "I like it."

"Me too." Lacus whispered, so quiet Kira could barely hear her.

"I thought you might." Erica said. "The Liberty has two 150mm hyper impulse beam cannons on its shoulders… the smallest caliber of that weapon out there, though quite powerful enough to blow the original Strike Gundam in half with one shot, each. Carried on its hips are 200mm railguns, just slightly larger versions of the previous models. It still has the beam sabers, same type, same location. The right hand carries a weapon based off the sniper cannon of the old Buster. This is the main gun of the mobile suit. Each 300mm barrel can independently target an enemy within a 30 degree cone of where the weapon is pointed at, or all three can be concentrated on a single target for extra damage. The weapon isn't very quick firing and it does have a kick, so be careful when you use it, because you might be off balance and unable to fire for a second or two afterwards. The left hand carries either a beam reflecting shield or a dual 57mm beam rifle, depending on whether you want extra offense or defense."

"Now, coming back to that special weapon I mentioned earlier. During the war ZAFT constructed a weapon known as the "Gugnir", based on the mythical spear of Odin, which represented lightning. Gugnir's were electromagnetic pulse weapons, EMP for short. They deal little physical damage and are completely harmless to humans. However, their effect on unprotected electronic systems is devastating. Anything that uses electricity or electric memory is affected adversely, shorting out in a surge of sparks or crackling current. Computer memory is erased, circuits melt, detonators fail to arm, safety systems go off line, radios go down… you get the idea. If you have electronics, and what are mobile suits but giant electronics… EMP is your worst nightmare. Your entire OS disappears like it never existed… and not very many of us can reprogram an entire OS in mid battle, especially on a shorted out computer. But enough background, you're smarter than me, you probably get the picture."

"The weapon on the chest is a Gugnir Cannon. Its range is short, as the weapon is highly experimental. I wouldn't count on hitting anything past around 150 meters away. However, the blast is conical in shape, hitting an area fifty meters wide and tall at its maximum range, allowing you to hit multiple enemies at once. The blast is barely detectable, just a few sparks and maybe a nearly invisible ripple in the air. Electricity might dance across the machines struck, but the most visible results will be their engines dying, phase shift going down, weapons stopping firing, and maybe even the machines falling over inert. It takes a complete overhaul to repair a good EMP blast, so most machines are disabled for at least a week or so. An attractive weapon for someone who doesn't like to kill, I think. Now, there are precautions you'll need to observe. For one, the weapon runs off the reactor, it actually stops its functions for a moment to generate the EMP pulse. This can lead to power allocation problems if you are flying and firing your regular weapons at the same time, which might cause some of your attacks to miss or send you for a brief drop through the sky. Another is the weapon has a backwash effect. The Liberty is equipped with extensive EMP shielding, but firing the weapon multiple times in a row might overwhelm the shielding, resulting in you disabling yourself as well. My advice is to wait at least a minute or preferably two between firings. You should be fine then."

"Now, in addition to the EMP shields, the Liberty has an Angel Halo. Firing the Gugnir Cannon while the Halo is active can have unpredictable results. Your best bet is to only have one or the other active at any given time. We're not entirely sure what happens when the Gugnir is fired when the Halo is active, our simulations always go dead or nonsensical just then and we don't have the time, budget or real desire to try a live test. So what do you think?" Erica asked.

"I'm overwhelmed." Kira said, quite truthfully. Erica beamed as if he'd paid her a high compliment indeed.

"I'll leave you to your wonder then. Only one more to go and then I can get back to a real job." Erica said, pulling Cagalli along behind her into the next stall.

"This is head pounding stuff." Alkire commented to Kira.

"Yes. The responsibility is great." Kira replied, still distracted by the Liberty. Despite himself, he liked the machine. The name. The weapons designed specifically for his tastes. If he had to go to war, this was certainly the machine to do it in. He looked over at Lacus. She gave a tentative nod of approval.

"I suppose you can pilot this, if you must. Just promise me you won't just take it out for a joy ride like I know the others will with theirs." She said.

"No. I'm through with these machines. I'll pilot it to save lives, but I'll never enjoy fighting in these abominations." Kira said vehemently. Alkire looked surprised.

"Not often you find a pilot who hates his machine." He commented.

"I don't hate the machine itself. I hate the purpose and idea behind these machines. They don't serve any purpose besides dealers of death. I wish they'd never been invented. Them… the gun… the nuclear missile… all weapons really. They're not necessary to living a fulfilled life." Kira replied moodily.

"Maybe so. But I definitely feel a bit safer with a gun in my hand when there's people who don't like me around. And theres lots of those. Always someone willing to take something from those weaker then them by virture of strength and brutality. Just a fact of human nature."

"It doesn't have to be that way. Humans can get along peacefully together." Lacus said.

"It doesn't have to be… but it is. You can't tell me it's not that way right now." Alkire retorted.

"No, I can't. It is that way right now. But that doesn't mean we can't try and change. Humans have that quality. They can change themselves, and so change the way the world is. That is our defining quality, I believe." Lacus answered. Alkire chewed on that for a while and then gave a low laugh.

"Well, you've convinced me. Now for the other million and a half gun toting morons out there, eh? Let me know when you've got them to listen. I'll throw this away then." Alkire twirled his pistol nonchalantly around a finger before re-holstering it. He walked off to join the group in the next stall. Lacus looked after him.

"I might have just gotten through to him." She said.

"Maybe." Kira agreed. "Though I wouldn't bet my life on it. It's not going to be easy for that man to reject the teachings of his life, even if you are totally right, love."

"But if I can convince him, I should be able to convince almost anyone." She replied, moving over to him to take him in her arms. "Besides the truly insane ones like Frost." She gave a slight shudder. Kira noted that.

"He's one I wouldn't mind killing, I'm sorry to say. I don't think forgiveness will ever find its way to him, no matter what we do. He's gone beyond our ken."

------------------------------

"All right, finally." Erica said, stepping into the next stall, which was brightly lit. The machine in here was shorter by a noticeable amount than the other machines. It was currently all grey, being in phase shift down. "With phase shift up, it's a brilliant cherry-apple-ruby-red color. Hence the name, the Strike Rubicon or STXR-4. We did an overhaul on the Strike Rouge, eliminating unnecessary or redundant components, and mixing and matching some systems from the original five Gundams to create a versatile weapons platform that I believe plays to your strengths, Representative."

"How so?" Cagalli asked.

"Well, for starters, we'll look at the weapons. I've reviewed your combat data from the battle of GENESIS. You did well to survive and indeed you fought admirably. However, your best combat was done at a distance, not closer in. You just don't have the razor sharp reflexes for saber fighting like Kira and Athrun. Added to the fact that you're the sole Natural pilot out of all of them and we decided to keep you at a distance from the melee. Kisaka might have also slipped in a word about exiling us all if we created a suit that would force you to fight in the more dangerous arena of close combat." Erica said with a grin. Kisaka remained stone faced, neither denying nor confirming.

"The Rubicon's primary weapon is an 80mm ion beam rifle, a little like the ion cannon carried by some Ginns. It is not a heat based attack, but rather dispels the magnetic bonds holding matter together, resulting in the matter dissolving rapidly. The range on the weapon is great, stretching into the tens of kilometers even in atmosphere, though accuracy is always an issue, as is proper lead time on moving targets. Additional long range weapons include two radar guided missile 20 racks, one per shoulder and two 25mm gatling beam cannons carried on the left arm under the shield. For close in defense, the head mounts two 20mm CIWS guns. If forced into melee, the Rubicon wields a new weapon, the beam lance. It's really much more of a halberd though. The pole is a good ten meters long, and the head projects three widely curved plasma blades in a roughly spear shaped configuration. I'm sure you will grasp its use quickly, though hopefully you will have little cause to use it."

"Now, for the extras. Unlike the other machines, your shield is an older, beam resistant model rather than the new beam deflectors. There is a reason for this, namely the heat converting mesh that completely covers the armor and shield. Don't bother looking for it, its microscopic; you can barely even feel it. What this mesh does is absorb some… anywhere from 40-80... of an incoming heat based attacks energy, which is then fed directly back into the battery of the machine. I'm sorry, Representative, but we didn't feel it necessary to give you a nuclear powered machine, since it was unlikely you'd be able to take full advantage of all of the power of such a machine. Hopefully you won't get shot at much, but if you do get hit, well… at least there is also an upside to surprise the enemy with."

Cagalli nodded sullenly. The argument made sense, but that didn't mean she didn't want a nuclear powered machine too.

"To enhance your machine's role as a long distance support combatant, we've added a Mirage Colloid system like the Blitz had. It's good for forty minutes before you have to shut it down for a couple hours, and you can't have phase shift active when it's up, sorry. Finally, the head carries a high resolution long distance sniper camera. It can pick out the individual feathers on a sparrows wing from five miles away. A necessary tool for precision attacks. You won't be in the thick of things, Princess, but you'll definitely make your presence felt. Oh, and there is no self destruct control. All of these new models are equipped with anti-capture devices that will scramble their OS's and destroy their vital and top secret equipment if they are captured, but there will be no big walking bombs anymore. I'm sure Athrun could figure a way to melt down his reactor, but he'll have to try for it and there's a good chance the reactor safety systems would stop him. I don't want any of you to even have the opportunity to sacrifice yourselves for the "greater good"."

"Thanks." Cagalli said. She thought she heard Kisaka say the same thing, but when she turned to look at him he was as inscrutable as usual. Something occurred to her just then, something Kira and Athrun had been worrying about earlier. "Do you know where we can find the Archangel, Kusanagi and Eternal?" she asked. "It's all well and good that we have these mobile suits, but without carriers to transport and re-supply them, our effectiveness will be extremely limited."

"I'm glad you asked. Come with me." Erica replied, leading Cagalli, Kisaka and the TEMPEST members up a flight of stairs to a control booth that looked out over the entire hanger. Ysak could be seen on the shoulder of the Duelist, hands inside the access panel to the Duelists head, checking something or other while Katie leaned over his shoulder, nearly unbalancing him. Erica smiled and went over to a bank of computer controls. Seconds later a hologram of the earth appeared in the middle of the room. A red star pulsed in the middle of Orb. "This is our present location."

A green star appeared in the middle of the Sahara desert in North Africa. "Here is the Archangel. With the help of Desert Dawn, and Commander Waltfeld's contacts in the area we were able to build an underground shelter for the ship there. It's not much more than an enlarged cave with a breakaway roof, but it's proven to be more than enough to keep it from being found by any side. Desert Dawn knows the exact location and is responsible for maintaining the ship, something they were only too happy to do."

Next the world rotated around so everyone was looking at the south pole. A blue star pulsed a few hundred miles scalar away from the pole. "Kisaka sent the Kusanagi to the south pole after the descent and refit. Public reports have it placed up in space, patrolling Orb's remaining space territory, but that job is being taken care of by several other Izumo class ships."

"Why Antarctica?" Cagalli asked Kisaka.

"Like the Sahara desert, it's in a location few people would ever think to look, or even have the resources to search thoroughly. I thought it best to have an ace up my sleeve; a ship full of M-4's that nobody else knows the exact location of." Kisaka replied.

"The Kusanagi is in a converted ice cave underneath one of the glaciers. There are a few technicians posted there to keep watch over the systems and to make sure the ice doesn't close off the access tunnel, but most of the crew is here at Orb, disguised among the regular military personnel. Most of the mechanics and technicians actually work here with me." Erica said. She hit a few more controls. The globe shrank until it was about the size of a baseball. A purple star appeared way out at the edge of the field.

"The Eternal is anchored in shut down mode at this point, roughly five million kilometers above the ecliptic plane, and 15 million kilometers from Orb. It's well past all but the most vestigial grasp of the Earth's gravity and totally outside all known shipping lanes. Someone would have to trip over it to actually find it. The crew, under Commander Waltfeld, is currently in the PLANTS, where I don't exactly know. I have an electronic address you can have that will allow you to get into contact with Waltfeld or his aide, Martin Dicosta." Erica picked up a data disk and handed it to Cagalli. "There, did that help?"

"Very much, thank you." Cagalli replied. Erica turned to Alkire and the TEMPEST members.

"I'm sorry, I did not know you were coming or we might have come up with some stuff for you as well."

"That's all right. We're ground pounders at heart. All these machines are pretty much just magic to us." Alkire said with a grin.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not the…" Erica was cut off by a low whooping alarm and flashing red lights. Erica frowned. "That's the proximity alarm. But who…?"

Kisaka turned quickly and took a deep breath, having jarred his broken ribs in his haste. "Get the pilots into their machines. The Hellhound has found us."

Alkire jumped for the control panel. After a few seconds frantic search, he found the intercom button. "Hello kids. This is your friendly neighborhood commando leader speaking, Alkire. As you may have guessed, the alarm and flashing red lights is not a good sign. We have incoming, what I don't know. Knowing Asmodeus, it's probably quite a bit. He always did err on the side of caution. If you'd all board those miraculous machines of yours, I'd be much obliged."

"Are you always a maniac like this?" Kisaka asked.

"Only during tight spots." Alkire turned to Erica Simmons. "Doctor, are there any employees we need to evacuate?"

Erica shook her head. "We only work a few days a week now that the machines are finished. I was only here today because I was late with a report."

"Good. Do you have an escape route?" Alkire asked.

"There is the cargo train below the hanger. It's a mag lev flatbed train that we used to bring in the raw materials. It runs out to the nearest military base, ending in a disguised sealed hanger there. It's how the technicians and I usually get in here."

"How many people can it hold?"

"Everyone here, plus three mobile suits."

"Well, I was actually going to have the pilots fly their machines. The rest of us are going to take this train to the base. From there we should be able to secure a vehicle to get us to the airport where my jet is. Once we get there, we're home free."

"My family is still here. Once I get to the base, I'm just going to go home." Erica replied.

"Do you mind if I go with you?" Kisaka asked. "In my condition, I'm not ready for the sort of running, leaping and dodging that Alkire usually incorporates into his escapes."

"I suppose I can put you up at my house until you recover a bit. As long as you don't mind babysitting my son all day long."

Kisaka rolled his eyes at Cagalli. "I have some experience dealing with unruly children."

"But… instructor… what do you hope to accomplish by staying here?" Alkire asked. "Injured as you are, you won't be able to flee if discovered."

"Yes, but everyone will assume I fled the country with you. It's foolish for me to stay here; you were polite enough not to say. They will focus their efforts on finding you, not on searching a country they already have under their control. And once I am well again, there are a few things I need to do here before I can feel right about leaving. People I have to talk to, things I have to organize."

"But…" Cagalli started to say. She saw the look on Kisaka's face. "Fine… but you'd better not die. I won't forgive you if you do."

"Of course." Kisaka replied, cracking a slight smile. He turned to Alkire. "I'll be at the Kusanagi in about a month or two, if you need me. Until then, I'm leaving Cagalli's welfare in your hands, Robert. I look forward to talking with her again in a few months time." Kisaka said quietly.

"I understand, sir." Alkire said. He turned to Erica. "Doctor, I assume this place has some defensive emplacements? Could we get them going, to cover our retreat."

"They activated the moment the alarm sounded. All we need to do is get to the train."

"Superb. Vlad, get everybody to this train and leave the door open for me. Cagalli, I'm leaving it up to you to tell the other pilots to meet us back in Hawaii, at my safe house, after you break free. It won't be a fun flight, but you need to make it there. I assume you can find my place. If not, just call me and I'll give you the coordinates after I arrive." Alkire ordered. He paused as the entire facility shook slightly. Dust trickled down from far overhead on the hanger ceiling. "Things are getting rough faster than I expected. GO!" Alkire sprinted for the stairs leading down to the hanger, Cagalli a few paces behind him.

Alkire first found Lacus, already heading towards the stairs with a determined if shaken look on her face. "Kira said to find you and do what you said…" she told him. Alkire pointed her towards the stairs down to the train and ran on. Katie and Chanel met him halfway.

"Ysak told us to get the hell out of the way and find safety and then he powered up his machine." Chanel explained.

"I wish I had a machine like that." Katie pouted.

"Well, if you're good…" Alkire joked. "Get to the train. Far staircase, the only one that goes down. Vlad is waiting." He ran on. He wanted to get a look for himself at what the kids were facing. He hoped he wasn't sending them out on a suicide mission while he ran for cover. He'd never forgive himself if that was the case. He had just reached the door leading to the cave with the van when the door blew off its hinges. Only razor sharp reflexes honed with years of instinct let him drop underneath the flying steel debris unharmed. "So much for anything inside the cave." Alkire muttered. He ran through the drifting smoke and crackling flames to stand at the mouth of the cave.

Mobile suits steadily advanced toward him from downslope. Strike Daggers, the mass produced suits introduced by the Earth Alliance late in the war. Alkire had heard they were inferior models, but to him, a lone man armed only with an automatic rifle, they seemed deadly enough. Bright green beam blasts assailed the mountain the facility was buried under, carving great chunks out of the rock and dirt. A larger and bulkier mobile suit Alkire recognized as one of the type he had encountered in Switzerland seemed to be in charge. A railgun on one shoulder and a missile pack on the other spat flame and fury as he watched, sowing a dozen explosions across the mountainside just above the cave mouth, causing the entire world to shake crazily. Alkire was thrown forward to one knee. The command suit leveled a large caliber weapon with wisps of smoke trailing from its barrel at the mountainside.

Alkire sprinted back inside, deciding that it was unsafe to observe further. The mountain seemed to shift as a whole when the command unit fired, a beam of crackling blue-red energy that pierced the rock and dirt of the mountain like a scalpel through butter. The explosive shockwave of countless tons of vaporizing rock and dirt threw Alkire forward off his feet and into the hanger bay, where he rolled for nearly fifty feet. "The second time this has happened to me." He groaned, staggering to his feet with smoke trailing from his clothes and bandages. He staggered for the stairs down to the train as one by one the kids in their Gundams lifted off to face the advancing foe on pillars of blue flame and smoke. Whole sections of the mountain fell away as the upper hanger doors opened to allow the mobile suits free exit.


	32. A Losing Engagement part 1

"Here they come. We've finally scared the little birds out of their nests." Dyre radioed to Asmodeus, who was back several mountain ridges away, concealed with the rest of the Strike Crusaders and Frost.

"Acknowledged. Send in the hostage teams." Asmodeus ordered.

"Yes, sir." Dyre said. He hit a different channel on his radio. "Go Team, this is Hunter. Do your thing." Almost at once, a half dozen all terrain hovercraft broke from cover from behind the line of Strike Daggers and raced upslope into the cave entrance to the depot. Each hovercraft disgorged two squads of seven special forces soldiers, specially flown in by Cervantes during the previous few hours and then raced back into cover.

"Hunter, this is Go Team leader. We are advancing into the facility. Please avoid attacking the facility until we can collect the hostages."

"I'll do my best, Go Team leader." Dyre replied. He switched to the channel to his Daggers. "You know the drill boys. We want these things mostly intact if at all possible. So try and hit the legs, the head or the weapons if you can. We only have to contain them in the area until Go Team can do its thing." His troops acknowledged him. He had twenty Strike Daggers under his command, plus the Strike Crusader he himself was in. Military common sense indicated that with four to one odds, he would be the clear victor, but Dyre had reviewed a few tapes concerning the abilities of his opponents and they had been enough to make him quite nervous. These people had a habit of taking on impossible odds and coming out victorious.

Dyre checked his heads up display. His missile tubes were only 40 reloaded, but the right shoulder 120mm railgun was ready, as was the 200mm hyper impulse beam cannon he carried on the right arm. He swung the targeting reticule of the hyper impulse cannon onto the head of the mobile suit that was just beginning to emerge from the closest hanger and keyed the railgun to fire from the same trigger and at the same target. "I've got you cold, bitch." Dyre said with a shark like grin. He hit the trigger and watched the blue-red beam of power flash out in tandem with the harsh yellow tracer from the railgun.

Ysak was still getting the hang of the Duelist. It was so much more agile than the Duel and he had to fight not to hit the jets too hard. He roared out of the hanger bay much faster than he intended. He barely had time to register the target locked on alarm. On instinct he swung the Duelist about and powered down thrust, dropping back into the hanger. The railgun shot high, blurring past the Duelist's head and impacting on the lip of the hanger bay doors. However, the hyper impulse beam was dead on and hit the Duelist high on the back. There was an enormous flash of glaring light as the dark blue cloak on the Duelist's back turned incandescent.

"Direct hit!" Dyre cheered. "Scratch one." With a hyper impulse cannon, anything even approximating a direct hit was a kill. The gun was powerful enough to take out space warships in one shot, no armor a mobile suit could mount could even slow it down. And the enemy had practically taken that shot right in the back of the head.

"Bastard!" Ysak cried, powering back out of the hanger, looking for blood. The Photon Cloak on the Duelist's back steamed in the mountain air as it radiated heat. Ysak's eyes lit upon the bulky suit standing not far down slope, its beam cannon still smoking. "All right, you Orb birthed monster, show me what you can do!" Ysak snarled. He stomped the jet pedals to the floor and drew a beam saber while simultaneously targeting the enemy with the new 25mm gatling beam cannon. A hail of green energy darks vomited forth from the rapidly spinning gun barrels as Ysak raced down the slope, chewing through foliage around the Crusader and scarring the mobile suit with hundreds of tiny melted pockmarks.

Dyre stared, disbelieving. He'd seen the hyper impulse cannon shot hit. The top half of the enemy suit shouldn't have been anything but a smoking ruin, but here it was, unharmed, charging down the slope at him at a terrifying speed. His primary weapons were all still charging. Dyre dropped the cannon and jerked out his own beam saber, fumbling the shield into position. It did him little good.

The Duelist screamed by him, the chainsaw teeth on its shield cleanly hacking his shield in half, while the Duelist's beam saber cut the Crusader's left leg off at mid thigh. Rocketing past the toppling enemy, Ysak turned his shield back and fired all three beam grapples. The tethered projectiles penetrated the Crusader's back in three places, one beam eradicated Dyre's head and upper torso in a bloody flash of steam. Ysak pulled into a tight turn, thrusters igniting the nearest trees. The grapple tethers tightened and pulled, throwing the crippled Crusader into the trees to roll downslope in a rippling ball of flaming metal. The grapples retracted into the shield with high pitched whines. "It'll serve." Ysak said, unaware of the massive grin that was currently splitting his face. He went searching for more targets.

Elsewhere on the mountain, Athrun and Kira were smashing through the Strike Daggers that had confronted them with their usual contemptuous ease. The enemy was just too far outclassed. What beams weren't diffused by the Angel Halo's or blocked by shields just missed entirely. Athrun hacked off arms, legs and heads by the bucketful, unwilling to waste ammunition on cannon fodder. Kira experimented with the Gugnir cannon and was quite pleased with its results, though the Dagger pilots who found their machines tumbling down slope with no power thought differently.

Dearka and Miriallia were working out the chain of command a bit further down the mountain. The Grand Buster's OS had allocated the use of the back mounted CIWS and shoulder beam cannons to the co-pilot and Dearka felt that she had enough to worry about with just the electronics and that she should transfer weapons control to him. Miriallia was glad to be have something to do besides just sit helplessly in her seat though, and she refused to give up her "right to defend herself."

"Listen. When we get into a real battle you'll be so busy managing all of us that you won't have time to fire those weapons and that'll be detracting from the overall firepower of the machine." Dearka said, annoyed.

"You listen. Maybe when that time comes around, I'll do just that. But right at the moment most of the electronics aren't even on. We're right in the middle of the enemy, not at the fringes. And in this situation, Kira and the others don't need my directions to know what to do. And besides…" Mir swung the left shoulder turret around and blew the head off a Strike Dagger that was attempting to sneak up on them from the side. "… they aren't that hard to use."

Dearka found it hard to come up with a workable counter for that one, so he decided to drop the subject for the moment, at least until they were over the pacific and headed for Hawaii. Instead he swung the Grand Buster around and hit the jets, lofting them in a low arc following the curve of the mountain. He took advantage of the improved view offered by the jump to blast three Daggers to scrap with the 400mm anti-armor shotgun.

Cagalli hadn't joined in with the others, instead opting to climb to the top of the mountain to play to her machine's strengths. From her position crouched near the peak, she could study all parts of the battlefield. Kira and Athrun were tearing up the south and east sides of the enemy line, while Ysak was mauling his way through the north and Dearka/Miriallia were pounding the west. Cagalli picked off a pair of Daggers that looked like they were trying to retreat from Ysak; she was pleasantly surprised with the power of her gun, which killed one enemy even through his upraised shield. In what most people would consider a shockingly short time, there was no more fighting on the battlefield. Twenty Strike Daggers and one Strike Crusader had become nothing more than inert metal or burning wreckage on the side of the mountain. It had been about six minutes from the time the Go Team had entered the mountain.

-------------------------------------------

Asmodeus was observing from his concealed position three ridges away. He let out a low whistle of admiration. The enemy was far stronger than he had anticipated. It was time to modify the plan a little bit. There had been nothing but static from the Go Team since the first report, and they were well past their allotted time. Jones and his friends must have been somehow able to take out the company of well trained soldiers on their own. They must have had something planned or the help of people inside the facility too, because it was inconceivable that five commandos, no matter how good, could handle more than sixty trained soldiers in just six minutes. Asmodeus got on the line to Cervantes and made his report.

"So what do you want to do then?" Cervantes asked testily. You just couldn't count on the help these days.

"We will engage the enemy as planned, though we will be shooting to kill, not disable. We can still use wreckage to glean some of their technology, and some is better than none if they get away. We'll destroy the mountain, drop the entire facility on them and sift through the ruins for the bodies later. Frost will ensure that there is no retreat for them."

Cervantes sighed and kneaded his eyes. "All right, if that's what you have to do, then do it. I'm sending reinforcements. Two full companies of Strike Daggers, plus assorted ground and air support. They should arrive in about thirty minutes."

"Thank you, sir. I'll make another report when they are dealt with."

"Do so." Cervantes said and signed off.

"Form a firing line on me." Asmodeus ordered his nine remaining Crusaders. "Use the hyper impulse cannons and missiles. We'll engage at range until they close the distance, then we'll go to trios." Asmodeus decided. Trios was two Crusaders using beam sabers to draw an enemy out of position, while a third hung farther back and struck the killing blow with the hyper impulse cannon. "Remember, these people are more skilled than us and are in high performance machines. Teamwork will be required for us to emerge victorious."

"What about me?" Frost grunted. His wounds pained him greatly, which did volumes to attest to the seriousness of his condition. Frost had calmly accepted multiple gunshot wounds in his past, ignoring them as a lesser man ignores mosquito bites, but he really had been worked over by the bomb and collapsing building.

"Flank them. They'll be charging us, wanting to get past the hyper impulse cannons as quickly as possible. They won't be expecting a sneak attack from the rear, especially from someone like you. You can make a new scythe from the wreckage of their precious Gundams."

"I'd like that." Frost affirmed. He started the Fury up and set it bounding along the wooded vale behind the mountain ridge, managing to weave his way between the myriad tree trunks to avoid causing a noticeable disturbance. His agility, combined with the Fury's small posture and stealth systems would help ensure that his maneuver would indeed be a surprise.

---------------------------------

Dearka had jumped the Grand Buster up to near Cagalli's position, resigned to his role as a support unit. Miriallia had relented and switched over control of all weapons to him for the moment, while she booted up the Long Range Radar and Vari-camera. "Let's see what there is to see." She said. Almost instantly her screen lit up with threat symbols. "There! Three ridges away, ten enemy mobile suits… checking signatures… nine of the upgraded Strike Daggers and… oh my god… the Freedom."

"What?" Dearka asked, calling up her data on one of his screens. "Holy shit."

"Kira? Athrun? We've got ten enemies in a line about two kilometers north of your current position. Ysak, they should be within sight of where you are right now."

"I see them as well." Cagalli cut in. "It's hard to get a solid lock on them, all the trees keep getting in the way, and they're crouched down real low."

"So what are we going to do?" Dearka asked.

"You're asking me?" Mir replied.

"You're the CIC."

"Okay… no pressure or anything… let's see… let's see…" Mir said, racking her brain for a good strategy.

"Kira and I will move to the sides, Ysak will go up the center. You and Cagalli will provide covering fire for Ysak until he engages the enemy, after which you will take targets of opportunity and watch for enemy reinforcements and tricks." Athrun's cold, calm voice cut through the chaos of Miriallia's mind.

"R-right!" she said, glad that someone knew what to do. CIC work had never been this involved before, she'd only had to warn Kira and the others when enemies were approaching or tell Captain Ramius what types of enemies they could expect to be fighting.

"Don't worry, love. You'll get better with some practice. Athrun always was good at everything he did." Dearka tried to comfort her.

"Of course." Mir said, trying to be cheerful herself.

"Now, help me with this program. I think I found my excuse to use the Earthshaker."

"You and your toys… Ysak, Kira, Athrun, be warned that one of the enemies is piloting the Freedom."

"Thanks for the heads up." Ysak said sourly. He had had a lot of bad experiences fighting against the Freedom while Kira was piloting it and he couldn't shake a small sense of dread at the thought of fighting it again, even with a mere Natural at the controls.

"Could it be the same guy that attacked Junius Six?" Kira asked Athrun.

"Let's hope so. He wasn't very skilled."

-------------------------

Asmodeus was just locking in his final firing solutions. "Trio one and two be advised that your targets are attempting to move out to the sides, do your best to herd them into the central kill zone. Trio three, your target is dead ahead. I will assist trio one and two until target three gets closer." Asmodeus aimed his hyper impulse/plasma cannons at the Justice upgrade and his railguns and beam rifle at the machine that bore a startling resemblance to his own. "All units, fire at will."

Blue-red streaks of energy filled the air, blasting through groves of trees like they were little more than air. Ysak was almost immediately pinned down by the unrelenting barrage of destructive energy. Kira and Athrun tried to move closer but found it difficult in the face of the well coordinated and timed fire from their enemies, which wasn't made any easier with the erratic volleys from the Freedom, switching from one of them and then to the other, whichever seemed the closest to breaking through. Ysak used his Photon Cloak to block a converging blast on his position and snapped off a few shots with his dual 57, to the detriment of several century old trees on the ridgeline just in front of the Crusaders. "Some back up would be nice!" he growled.

"Working on it." Dearka replied, typing furiously into the Earthshaker's OS while Miriallia read off sensor displays rapid fire and worked at anchoring the leg stabilizing struts securely.

"I'm firing as fast as I can." Cagalli snapped in frustration, her ion cannon blasting away at the distant enemy. "They've got really good cover and they're moving around enough that I can't do much more than hope I get lucky."

"Here comes the secondary attack!" Miriallia called out, her eye catching on the radar scope. "Ysak, you've got missiles inbound, more than fifty contacts. Kira, Athrun, you've both got a couple dozen coming your way."

"Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful." Ysak grumbled, throwing up the Photon Cloak to catch a few more hyper impulse blasts and bringing the 25mm beam gatling into play for a few seconds before he was forced to duck down again. Still, he'd managed to thin the swarm that was headed his way, hopefully by enough. Besides, with Phase Shift Armor, mere missiles weren't much of a threat anyway. None of Kira's or Athrun's missiles even got more than halfway before being picked off by accurate beam rifle fire.

"Done." Dearka declared triumphantly.

"Done here too." Miriallia replied. While missile detonations churned the grassy fields below into a morass of fire and smoke, the Grand Buster stowed its carried weapons onto special racks on its back. With ponderous grace, the Earthshaker artillery cannon slid around on its track until it was well braced by both arms. The stabilizer struts drilled deep into the solid granite around the feet of the Gundam to provide a steady and balanced firing platform. Dearka reached back into the ammunition hopper mounted on the Grand Buster's lower back and removed a single shell, which was more than ten feet long and weighed a good five tons. He slammed the shell home into the breech of the gun and locked it into place.

"I feel like a soldier from centuries ago, with those muzzle loading guns." Dearka muttered. "This thing takes forever to fire." The gun cranked around to the pre programmed firing position. Everything was still for an eye blink. Then the world shook to a mighty thunderclap. Stone cracked and danced under the Grand Buster's feet and the torso rocked back alarmingly, until Dearka was sure they were going to fall over. The muzzle flash had temporarily blinded his cameras, so he couldn't see what was happening. Miriallia was following the projectile's progress on her radar. The image impacted on the enemy ridgeline.

"Radar says we hit. Did we? Our cameras are out for the moment." She asked. There was a long pause.

"I'll say you did." Ysak said numbly. He stared at the gaping hole the shell had blown in the enemy held ridge. Pretty much the entire right half of the ridgeline had disappeared in the cataclysmic explosion. Bits of burning trees and melted armor were pattering down like rain all over the place. Ysak slowly brought the Duelist up to a full stand. No one fired at him, the enemy was in disarray.

"Trio one… trio one, are you there? Trio one… oh, screw it, never mind. They're gone." Asmodeus said with a grimace. He'd jarred his back when the Purifier had been knocked flying from the blast wave. He'd had a glimpse of a monstrous shell flitting through the air towards the ridgeline, and then an explosion the likes of which he still couldn't comprehend had flipped his machine around like a toy. Around him, the remaining machines of trios two and three were likewise slowly getting to their feet, discarding warped cannons and jettisoning mangled missile launchers, damage suffered from being in proximity to the blast.

"Keep firing, men. We have to keep them engaged until the reinforcements get here. A weapon that powerful can't be quick firing. They've played their trump card; now all we have to do is wait for ours to get to them." Asmodeus shouted. He clambered back up to the top of what remained of the ridge. The enemy was closing rapidly. He opened up with all his weapons again and again, hoping to drive them back, but they were too skilled, managing to dodge or deflect all of his attacks with seeming ease. "Where the hell are you, Frost?" Asmodeus snarled as his command entered the desperate fray behind him.

--------------------------

"What's that?" Cagalli muttered, scanning the ground back to the south of the battle. She'd seen the results of the artillery cannon's shot, and she had been cheered up immensely. The enemy couldn't last against that kind of firepower, especially that now that Kira and Athrun were free to advance to close combat range. Some sixth sense had told her to check behind her and so she had twisted the Rubicon around after checking the battery charge. Still 74 left. Plenty of power.

Something was moving through the trees at an incredible pace. Her cameras were panning as fast as they could go and it was all they could do to keep the image in the middle of her screen. And that was at a distance of at least a mile. She brought up her ion cannon. Whatever it was, it wasn't likely to be friendly. "Could you check out this contact for me, Miriallia? It's closing from the south, down in the valley and its closing FAST." Cagalli requested. She didn't wait for a reply before opening up with her ion cannon. She had a bad feeling about this.

Her fire blew trees apart and sent fountains of dirt and rock flying through the air, but she didn't even manage to slow down the oncoming target. Indeed, if anything it increased its velocity. "Yeah, sure thing, Cagalli. Hold on… okay, I've got it. Wow, it IS fast. Computers are running the info… come on… okay… no match. Unknown mobile suit or mobile armor, closing rapidly from the south. Probably hostile."

"How rapidly?" Athrun asked.

"Sensors indicate a speed greater than two hundred miles per hour… and it seems to be traveling on the ground, not flying. That's through a forest mind you." Miriallia shook her head. "And not a blade of grass disturbed." She whispered. Well, maybe not that, but no trees were being knocked down she could see.

"What's that you say?" Dearka asked.

"Nothing. See if you can't slow this guy down, would you?"

"Which guy?"

"The one Cagalli is shooting at!"

"Okay, okay no need to shout." Dearka had just finished stowing the Earthshaker. Kira and Athrun and Ysak should be able to finish up without another shot. He drew out his other weapons and started tracking the new enemy. By this time, whatever it was was only a half mile or so from the field Ysak, Kira and Athrun were engaging the enemy in. "Quick bastard." Dearka said with a frown of concentration. He cut loose with everything he had. Beams, explosive shotgun shells and red-blue plasma cut through the air, followed closely by sixty missiles. A section of forest more than three acres on a side vanished in smoke and flame. By the time the smoke had cleared, Dearka expected to see nothing but twisted wreckage.

"You missed." Mir sounded disappointed.

"What do you mean? My targeting was dead on!" Dearka protested.

"Look at the radar. He didn't even slow down a tiny bit."

"That's impossi…ble." Dearka stared open mouthed at the target icon, which had changed course. It was approaching HIM now.

-------------------------

Frost smiled icily. The enemy would now learn the true meaning of fear. He activated the Celerity system mounted on the back of the Fury. The system dumped raw fuel into his engines and pumped overflow current through his maneuvering thrusters. In practical terms he got several orders of magnitude faster and more agile, at least for the next couple of minutes. He'd have to be careful. If he let the system run too long his reactor would go critical, which would be a flashy way to go, but he still had things to do in life.

Landscape had been blurring by before. Now, even with his enhanced eyesight he couldn't see more than a blur of green and brown outside his screens. He was piloting more by instinct now than anything. He stopped dodging trees; just bulling them out of the way was enough now that the enemy had given away their position. He would take out their ranged support and then punish the melee fighters for their foolish decision not to run away when they had the chance. The enemy was shooting at him from their position near the top of the mountain. Frost went into evasive maneuvers and activated his Geschmeidig Panzer beam deflector shields. Mounted on wire guided pods, they were based off the Moebius Zero gun barrels, but with a defensive goal instead of offensive. Frost elected to keep the pods attached to the Fury for the present; the system didn't function too well in atmosphere, with the drag of air friction, especially at his current pace.

"Goddamnit!" Dearka shouted, startling Miriallia. "I can't get this guy! He's too fast!" he blasted away desperately with his hyper impulse cannon and shotgun while willing his missile tubes to reload faster. "I'm giving you the turrets, so help out." He said through clenched teeth. Miriallia nodded without saying anything, she could sense his concentration. She tried to catch the rapidly approaching enemy between her crosshairs, but the mobile suit moved like something you'd see in a movie on x24 fast forward. It brought to mind images she'd rather have kept buried.

"Frost." Cagalli echoed in concert with her, unknowingly. Her ion cannon was worthless at this range, not that she'd been able to do much with it when he was farther away either. She dropped it and pulled out the beam lance, while filling the air with fire from her twin 25mm beam gatlings and shoulder missile packs. She even opened up with her CIWS guns, in desperation. Nothing seemed to make a difference. The unidentified enemy mobile suit… piloted by the insane monster Zacharis Frost in all likelihood… was still storming upslope at her at an unbelievable speed. "Athrun! Help!" Cagalli shrieked, quite unnerved.

Athrun froze in mid attack. The Strike Crusader he'd been about to finish off tried to take a swing at him with its beam saber, but Athrun's mind re-engaged and he fended it off and tore off its sword arm with a casual kick from his right leg. The enemy fell back weaponless.

"What is it?" Kira asked in concern, spitting a Crusader head on his beam saber nearby. The enemy pilots were reasonably skilled, and working as a coordinated team it was taking longer than he had expected to deal with them. That the leader was in a Freedom didn't help matters either, it was quite disconcerting to fight against it and while the pilot was no genius he was still skilled enough to make Kira wish the Freedom was under his control again.

Athrun didn't bother to reply. From the tone of Cagalli's cry, she was in immediate and life threatening danger. He had no time for conversation. He hit the afterburners on his flight packs and soared towards the mountain top as fast as he could go. He hoped he wasn't too late; the enemy had been moving incredibly quickly when Miriallia had first spotted him, though Athrun doubted it could maintain that pace going up a mountain. Still, something deep and visceral inside him clenched with fear and urged him to greater speed.

Frost was enjoying himself, though his wounds were throbbing again. He could almost taste the terror of the pilots of the slim red mobile suit and its chunky looking green and tan companion. They were doing everything in their power to slow him down, but it wasn't enough. He was too fast for them. Too agile. Big guns didn't matter a bit if you couldn't hit the target, and the Fury was a very hard to hit target. Now all he had to decide was how he would kill them. Frost casually perused his weapons list while the half seconds crawled by. He elected to keep the 57mm beam rifles stowed… in his current mood, blowing them apart with gunfire would be supremely unsatisfying. He wouldn't use the beam grapples on the arms and legs… at this speed he would only trip himself up. And the enemy had Phase Shift Armor in all likelihood, even though his computers couldn't identify the exact class of mobile suits he was fighting, so his armor-Schneider combat knives would be of little use. That left only one weapon system besides the CIWS array. The twin pair of ES06 wide bladed beam sabers. His weapons of choice anyway. Funny how logic tended to reinforce his latent desires. Frost whipped them out, one per hand, twin eight meter long by two meter wide slabs of green plasma fire, perfect for butchering his mechanical foes like cattle.

Frost would take the red one first. It already looked like it was covered in blood and Frost couldn't wait to make the illusion a reality. The machine seemed to be cowering away from him, its rapid firing beam cannons lifting up into the air reflexively, sending their torrent of fire up, high above his head. Frost was excited. He loved it when the victim knew they were helpless to resist and just gave up and waited for death to claim them. Not that he would make it that easy or quick, oh no. The enemy would get a little while to regret being his foe before they left this world. He put his left arm low and right arm high, planning to take a leg with the left sword and the opposite arm with the right sword.

Cagalli tried to bring the beam gatlings down, but her involuntary shiver looked to have cost her her life. The left arm seemed to descend with the speed of a bug trapped in amber, while the enemy rushed at her like a charging bull, dodging her outstretched beam lance with a slight twist that didn't slow Frost by a fraction. The twin wide bladed beam swords surged forward. Cagalli cried out in terror and squeezed her eyes shut. When nothing happened for a second or two, she cracked one open again and blinked hard. A mobile suits red and purple arm was interposed across her vision, less than a foot from the outer hull of her cockpit. The double bladed beam saber gripped in this arm had parried Frost's attacks and the Righteous was currently engaged in a clinch with Frost's mobile suit, each trying mightily to push the other back so they could disengage their swords.

"Athrun!" Cagalli cried, tears in her eyes.

"Little… busy." He gritted in reply. The enemy mobile suit was short but massive. It was all he could do to keep his sword in its current position, much less counterattack. The enemy machine looked almost bug like, with the crimson and forest green splotchy paint job and eight large spikes it sported, two to a limb. Engine exhaust ports and attitude adjustment ports dotted its hide like chickenpox, which no doubt helped explain its maneuvering and speed. Six hexagonal shield like pods were attached in two triangles of three, one triangle on the back and one on the front. Athrun had no idea what those might do.

"It's Frost!" Cagalli said, backing up as fast as she could go, to give her fiancée room.

"What?" Athrun said; sweat beading on his face as he struggled to free his sword while also keeping the enemy at bay.

"The pilot of that machine! It's Frost, I'm sure of it."

"Me too." Miriallia cut in. Dearka was maneuvering for a clear shot, but it was hard. The Grand Buster didn't really carry any weapons designed for close quarters combat. "I don't know how it can be, considering how wounded he was when I last saw him, but that speed… that speed and how the machine dodged our shots… it's him. I know it." She sounded a little panicky.

"Calm down." Dearka said in a slow and sure voice. "We're going to be okay." He switched to Athrun's channel. "I don't want to seem like a coward or anything, but this machine of mine doesn't have the equipment to fight that little monster."

"Get out of here, Dearka. Go help Kira and Ysak. You too, Cagalli." Athrun ordered.

"But I want to help you!" Cagalli protested. Athrun gritted his teeth as his hand almost slipped on the controls.

"You'll do that best by getting far away from this freak. I can't fight at my best when I'm worried about you!" Athrun snapped. "Look, I appreciate the sentiment dear, but this isn't a fight you can help me with. Go help Kira finish with the other guys and then tell him to get here ASAP. That's what I need you to do right now."

"All right." Cagalli replied haltingly. "Just don't die."

"Never even considered it." He replied as Cagalli jetted away along with Dearka. "All right, you son of a bitch, lets play." He growled, a furious anger building in him until the vision of a green seed exploded inside his head.


	33. A Losing Engagement part 2

Asmodeus looked left. Strike Crusaders lay in smoldering piles of scrap. Asmodeus looked right. Strike Crusaders missing arms, legs and heads were heaped about like broken dolls. Asmodeus looked to the front again. The blue and grey mobile suit with the cloak like thing stood about thirty meters away, beam saber in one hand pointed carelessly at the ground. _The bastard is mocking me._ Asmodeus thought, but couldn't get angry about it. He knew when he was outclassed and that was clearly the case here. The Freedom upgrade hovered silently behind the caped mobile suit, weapons pointed in Asmodeus's general direction. There was no chance of escape while they were this close. But surrender was hardly an option, was it?

"This is Kira Yamato, in the Liberty, addressing the pilot of the Freedom." A teenager's voice crackled over the international channel. Worse it was a familiar teenager's voice. Asmodeus had heard it not too many hours before, at the steam bath at the hot springs. If he had but known he had Kira Yamato within his grasp, things would have been so much easier. But he might as well wish for the reinforcements to be here already as well, instead of being a good five or six minutes away.

"This is Captain Asmodeus Sark, of EFSOU, in the Purifier. I hear you, Kira Yamato. Or should I say, Kira Hibiki?" Asmodeus replied in a weary voice.

Kira was momentarily flatfooted. How did this man know his birth name? But then he remembered. This man was the intelligence director for Cervantes Zunnichi, who led Blue Cosmos. It was little wonder that Blue Cosmos would have a file on him.

"Excuse me, what machine did you say you were in?" Kira asked, searching for a more meaningful question. Asmodeus chuckled grimly.

"This isn't the Freedom. The Freedom was built by the space monsters… your people. The Purifier you see before you was constructed by my people… Blue Cosmos. It may look like the Freedom and indeed was constructed to be identical to that loathsome machine, but the Purifier is a sanctified machine, meant to lead the holy JIHAD to destroy the PLANTS." Asmodeus replied, laying on the Blue Cosmos dogma heavily, hoping to have his enemies dismiss him as a witless Blue Cosmos thug. It was also a bit of misinformation. The giant Judgment was actually destined to lead the JIHAD war, but it was only 55 complete at the moment.

"Your troops have been defeated. You are alone and to be blunt, you aren't skilled enough to be a challenge to my friends and me. Will you surrender peacefully?" Kira asked, ignoring the rhetoric as a delaying tactic.

"Ah, but not all of my troops are gone. You have yet to defeat my champion." Asmodeus countered, calling up the data link from the Fury. To his disappointment, the Fury was currently deadlocked, in a clinch against the Justice upgrade. There seemed to be no evidence of destroyed foes about, so Frost must not have killed any yet, which seemed mildly unlikely.

"What are you talking about?" Kira asked. He was answered seconds later, but not by Asmodeus.

"Kira! Athrun needs help!" Cagalli announced over the international channel in her haste. Asmodeus started. He knew that voice… he'd studied it for quite a while now. Who would have guessed that the fallen princess would return to her home nation? "Frost is on the mountaintop. He nearly killed me before Athrun stopped him. Athrun's too busy to talk, but he said for you to get there as fast as you can!"

The Liberty turned at once and shot towards the mountaintop on a pillar of blue light. The mobile suit with the cape brought up its sword and activated it, but by then Asmodeus had turned and was flying for his life back towards the approaching reinforcements. Ysak snorted in disgust and started to switch out his weapons so he could shoot the coward down. Before he could complete the motion, a wing of fighter jets screamed out of the sky. The advance guard for Asmodeus's reinforcements. A volley of missiles fell from the sky, throwing mud and fire into the air all around the Duelist. "Fuck!" Ysak yelled, dodging back towards the mountain, the Purifier out of range and soon out of sight behind another mountain ridge. Dearka wiped out the jet wing with a combination missile attack and shotgun blast, but the damage was done. Asmodeus had gotten away, and doubtless would only return with a great many reinforcements.

Athrun had finally broken the clinch with Frost. He opened up with his flyer pack cannons and shoulder railguns, but Frost danced his machine through the fire as ably as the man himself dodged normal bullets. Frost checked his Celerity system. Still had six minutes of safe operation. Plenty of time. Frost attacked in a tornado of green fire, blades flashing so fast Athrun had a hard time tracking them. His shield and sword were kept busy fending off the unending diluge of strikes. _Come on, you're supposed to be one of the best. Don't let some real life Frankenstein monster embarrass you like this in front of the love of your life._ Athrun goaded himself to higher performance. He tapped his thrusters and jumped over Frost's machine, out of reach for a moment. Athrun flipped the Righteous in mid jump and stabbed downward with the beam sword, directly into the enemy machine's back. To Athrun's disgruntlement, his beam splashed and twisted away from the triangle of hexagonal pods on Frost's back. Beam deflectors, like the machine with the scythe had carried during the last battles of the last war. _Nothing is ever easy._

Frost spun so fast the Fury seemed to invert itself before taking to the air himself. He sliced at the Righteous, which was flat footed and awkwardly placed. His attacks would have struck home but for the nearly divine intervention of the Liberty. Kira fired his triple beam sniper cannon and blew the sword out of Frost's right hand, tearing the hand assembly itself off and throwing the Fury to the ground out of control.

"Thanks." Athrun said.

"No problem. Nothing you wouldn't do for me." Kira replied. He hovered nearby. "Be ready, he's not down yet."

Frost was aggrieved. He'd been so close twice now. God himself seemed to be against him today. Frost didn't like that, though he'd beaten the bearded man in the sky at his own game before. He fired his beam grapples, the eight plasma tipped grapples arcing out like the tentacles of an octopus. Frost followed them almost at once, the remaining beam sword carving a glowing line through the air as he homed in on the new machine.

Kira dodged around the grapples, fending one off with his shield and another with his foot, while Athrun cut the lines of the ones that came for him, rendering them into projectiles rather than grapples, projectiles that sailed out of sight before tumbling down inert to the valley floor. Kira blocked Frost's first strike with his shield and fired point blank at the Fury with the sniper cannon, but the chest deflectors bounced the beams around the smaller machine and they impacted fruitlessly on the mountain below. Kira was immediately forced on the defensive as Frost hammered repeatedly at his shield, using his right wrist stump like a club along with the left hand beam sword. Athrun sliced at Frost from the rear and distracted him for a moment, allowing Kira to back up and blast at the Fury with his railguns. Frost dodged them, but was thrown out of position, hanging helplessly in midair. Athrun did not let the opportunity waste. He dropped his beam sword and yanked out a boomerang, which he launched in a wide throw before detaching his flyer packs and pulling out his dual 57 beam rifle. The Righteous dropped out of the sky.

Athrun thumbed his rifle trigger as fast as he could and also fired his shoulder railguns as fast as they could charge. He set his flyer packs to automatic fire as they converged with wingsabers lit on Frost's machine. Missiles ripped out of the launchers and cannon tracers raced through the sky as Kira pulled back a few dozen meters and cut loose with his own arsenal. Beams of several different hues erupted from his sniper cannon, dual 57 rifle and shoulder cannons, while railgun rounds punched through the sky towards the enemy. Both pilots had their Angel Halo's running at maximum, needing every bit of defensive advantage they could wring when fighting such a maneuverable foe.

Frost's machine seemed to go into convulsions, but it was actually a frantic dance of evasion. Even Frost had his limits though, and shots began striking home. He completely lost track of the beam boomerang until it was less than five meters away. By then, it was almost too late. He managed to raise his leg a fraction, which resulted in it only being deeply gouged and disabled rather than severed. Still, the loss of thruster power on that side sent the Fury tumbling through the sky in a spiral of smoke before Frost could regain control. He checked his time again. Three minutes before reactor went critical. The two enemies converged and faced him as one. Frost snarled wordlessly, lips drawn back over bloody teeth. His wounds had reopened and the smell of blood was overwhelming in the tiny cockpit. It was driving him crazy. He charged again.

"This guy never gives up!" Athrun complained. "He's lost a hand and a leg and he acts like it never happened. What do we need to do to get rid of him?"

"This." Kira replied, moving directly in front of the enemy machine and opening his arms wide. His Halo abruptly died off and the jet thrusters on the back flickered rapidly on and off. A wave of air seemed to spread out from the front of the Liberty. Frost only realized he was being attacked when lightning coursed across the control screens, blowing them out in sleets of glass splinters. His remaining thrusters suddenly died and his cameras went to pure static. He couldn't see it, but his beam sword winked out like a snuffed candle. Unpowered, the Fury dropped out of the air like the stone it had suddenly become. The impact with the ground below snapped off the damaged leg like a twig and the Fury began the long and painful roll to the bottom of the mountain. Kira drew a bead on it with his sniper cannon after reactivating his Halo. _Good riddance._ Kira thought, only a little ashamed at the execution he was about to deliver. However, fate intervened once again, though for once, Kira wished it wouldn't have helped him upkeep his ideals.

A beam glanced off his back, the energy absorbed by the Halo but the impact enough to throw his aim off at the last instant. Instead of blowing Frost and his machine into tiny fragments, the beams blew a large crater in the side of the mountain and hurled the disabled enemy machine further and faster down the mountain slope. "What?" Kira protested, before his screens made sense. Dearka, Ysak and Cagalli were conducting a fighting withdrawal, as what looked like scores of Strike Daggers and tanks assaulted them from the front. Jet aircraft filled the sky around him, firing machine guns and launching missiles at him and Athrun. More Strike Daggers were flying not far off, blasting away in his direction enthusiastically with their beam rifles. They were being overwhelmed. He and Athrun had been so concentrated on Frost that they had failed to notice the enemy reinforcements.

"We need to retreat!" Miriallia radioed. "We can't stand against these numbers! They just keep coming! Cagalli's starting to run low on power, and we're all running low on ammunition."

"She's right. We need to get out of here." Athrun replied. He re-coupled to his flyer packs. "I'll go help Cagalli. You cover the other's retreat. We'll have to finish him another time."

"You're right. See you in Hawaii." Kira replied, before turning his considerable attentions to the foes near him.

-----------------------------------------

"Kill them!" Asmodeus screamed in a rare display of emotion. He did his best to show his troops what he meant, firing relentlessly at the fleeing mobile suits. But despite his best efforts, the Liberty was always a few steps ahead of him and his troops, shooting down missiles, deflecting beams and disabling another two or three machines with every passing second. Still, there was no way the single suit, with a tired pilot could possibly defeat the near army Asmodeus had with him now. A call light began blinking on his communication set. Asmodeus stared at it balefully for a long moment before composing himself some and answering it. He dropped back to the secondary line to take the call in peace.

"Asmodeus, you need to call off the attack." Cervantes said without preamble. Asmodeus felt his heart flutter a little bit. This was personal. He didn't want to give up on this until the brats were all lying crushed at his feet.

"Why, sir?" he asked calmly.

"Those bastards in ZAFT have stolen a march on us. As we speak drop pods are descending towards Washington DC. They're attempting a knockout blow. All available troops are ordered to get to the Washington area as soon as possible. Theres nothing I can do, my friend. The generals are panicking; they issued recall orders to all the troops without consulting me first. Your troops will retreat no matter what you do." Cervantes replied. He spoke the truth. As Asmodeus watched, trembling with rage, the mobile suit and jet squadrons peeled off, flying back towards their bases with all possible speed. All around him, mobile suits and tanks rushed back, a tide of metal hurrying to defend a place few of them would ever reach in time. Asmodeus had no choice but to retreat in turn, watching with a sick feeling as the Liberty soared away, free and clear.

"I had them in my grasp." He whispered resentfully. "They won't be so lucky next time." He promised himself.

---------------------------

Author's Note: this chapter ends the first arc of the story. I haven't decided on a name for it, unlike the other arcs in this story. Next chapter is the beginning of a new arc. Still a TON of ground to cover, so if you're liking what's been done so far, you have several hundred more pages to look forward too.


	34. Conscription Notice

**Beginning of the Last War Arc**

"What's this?" Mr. Argyle looked at the white envelope that had appeared between stacks of the ever present bills he got on a weekly basis. Even with his company in ruins, the bills never stopped coming. He'd thought he and his wife might have a moment's peace since they were living at his grandfather's house in Colorado. But that hope had been dashed long ago and he'd grown resigned to this weekly ritual. He picked up the odd white envelope. It wasn't like most of the mail he received, this looked to be printed on mass produced paper of quite rough quality. It looked almost sloppy to tell the truth. There was a large blurry globe printed on the front in black ink. It took Mr. Argyle almost a minute to recognize the symbol as the one the Earth Alliance used for its military forces.

He tore open the envelope and shook out the letter inside. He slipped on his reading glasses and held the paper up to the light. The ink was very light and the script was a bit odd, making it hard to make out. Clearly this had been produced in haste. "To whom it may concern… blah blah, blah blah." Mr. Argyle scanned through the letter, muttering under his breath. It was mostly gibberish, as far as he could tell. The only phrase that really caught his eye was near the end. That phrase stopped him cold and left him trembling. He reached out for his coffee cup and knocked it to the floor, where it shattered.

"… do officially conscript those it concerns into the armed forces of the Earth Alliance." He whispered. "What the HELL is this!"

"Dear?" Mrs. Argyle asked, coming downstairs in her sleeping robe. She looked at the coffee on the floor in surprise. "Is something wrong?"

"I'll say there is!" he replied. He shook the letter at her. "Do you know what this is?" His wife shook her head. "It's a goddamned conscription notice! I've been drafted!"

"Let me see that!" Mrs. Argyle demanded. She practically ripped the document from his hand. She put on glasses of her own and studied it intently. Slowly the expression on her face changed from shocked incredulity to horror. The letter slipped from her suddenly numb fingers.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Argyle asked, alarmed.

"Didn't you read the letter?" she asked.

"I glanced through it."

"Did you see the part where it talks about "to whom this may concern"?"

"Yes."

"Don't you realize what that means?" she started trembling. "This letter isn't to you. It's to both of us. We've both been drafted!"

--------------------------

"That's ridiculous!" Mr. Haw snorted, looking up from his newspaper at his wife.

"We're citizens of Orb; the Earth Alliance can't draft us!"

"Not anymore, dear. Remember, as of two weeks and one day ago, Orb is a protectorate of the Earth Alliance nation the Atlantic Federation. I'm afraid this is perfectly legal." His wife replied sadly.

"It's a travesty!" Mr. Haw protested. "How can the leaders of Orb allow them to do this? It's not even conscription into the Orb military. That I could understand, if not like. But to allow their tax paying citizens to be conscripted into the armed forces of a foreign nation? It's an outrage!"

"That doesn't change the fact that we've been drafted. If we don't report to the mustering port by three days from now, we'll be considered deserters and hunted down as criminals." Mrs. Haw replied.

"This can't be happening!" Mr. Haw cried, pounding the table with his fist. "First Miriallia goes missing and we have no word for months and now we have to go fight a war that shouldn't be fought!"

Mrs. Haw could only make soothing noises she couldn't put much heart into. She was just as incensed as he husband. But there was little they could do besides accept it.

-----------------------------

"You've got mail, Kuzzey!" Mrs. Buskirk shouted, her voice cutting through the music Kuzzey was listening to via headphones up in his room.

"I'll be right down Mom!" he called back. "What could that be? My friends don't send me paper mail and it's too early for class lists." He muttered to himself. He took off his headphones and paused his playlist. The sudden discordant sound of plates breaking below had him down the stairs and in the kitchen before another three seconds had passed. "What's wrong, Mom?"

His mother was as white as a sheet. She held a funny looking coarse paper envelope in one hand, it had been opened. Her other hand held a sheet of what looked like computer paper, with faint lettering on it. "H-here. Read this. I need to call your father." She said, handing him the paper. Kuzzey was puzzled. What could have upset his Mom so much? He glanced through the letter and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

"Conscripted? But I quit the military!" he complained. He looked at the letter again. "Wait… this letter isn't to me… it's to "whom it may concern", that means it's just a generic thing."

"That's right, ALL OF US!" Mrs. Buskirk shouted into the phone in the next room. "WE'VE ALL BEEN DRAFTED!"

Kuzzey looked at the letter like it was a poisonous serpent. His world was crashing down in flames. He thought back to when he left the Archangel just before the destruction of Orb's mass driver. He'd thought he was out for good after that. The military just wasn't for him. JOSH-A had proven that to him. Death was just too scary for him. Now though, it looked like he was going to be going through a much tougher wringer than the Archangel. Conscripts were grunts, cannon fodder really. He'd get a few weeks of training and then he'd get handed a gun and pressed into some desperate battle to fight until he was killed.

"Yes, it's probably to make up for their losses in Washington." His mom said into the phone, calmer now.

Washington had been a tough fight for the Alliance, by everything Kuzzey had read. ZAFT's sneak attack two weeks ago had caught the Alliance with their pants down. Washington DC hadn't been destroyed, but the fighting had been long and intense and the current ZAFT pullout was widely considered to be a mere calm before the storm, the next push was expected within the next week. Luckily, Kuzzey wouldn't have to fight in that battle, but he doubted that would be the end of the war. He'd be thrown into the more intense battles that were sure to happen later. If his time on the Archangel had taught him anything, it was that wars only got worse, not better.

-------------------------

"You've got mail." Ysak's portable computer dinged happily when he logged on. He glared sourly at the screen. The announcement song was a legacy of Chanel's tampering with his computer during recent days. She'd decided the simple "ping" noise he had wasn't good enough for her tastes and had downloaded this too cheerful by far song sung in some language he couldn't understand but which Chanel assured him was French.

_I wonder what that is. I haven't had mail since Switzerland._ Ysak wondered. He opened his mail program. "ZAFT Defense Headquarters. I wonder what they want with me, the war criminal?" Ysak said bitterly. He opened the email and read through it once, then twice, just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood something. He sat back in his chair and shook his head in disbelief. _I hate political wars._ He groused mentally. He rose to a knocking at his door in Alkire's safe house in Hawaii. The flight from Orb had been pretty brutal; he wasn't used to spending so long in the cockpit, especially with no bathroom.

Alkire had gotten everyone else out with only slight problems. Apparently the facility had been invaded by quite a few Earth Alliance soldiers during the battle outside, but during a dashing and dangerous train battle that Ysak still hadn't gotten many details on, Alkire and company had managed to emerge victorious. It was a little hard to believe only five commandos and what amounted to seven armed civilians had managed to defeat more than sixty trained soldiers, but the results were unimpeachable, since Alkire and everyone had arrived in Hawaii safe and sound and several hours ahead of Ysak and the rest of the Gundam pilots.

"I'm coming." Ysak said when the knocking continued unabated. It wasn't Katie or Chanel; they would have barged in by now since they knew he no longer bothered to lock the door. Plus they never knocked in the first place. There was no position he could be in that would embarrass them, so they never worried about announcing their presence. It still bugged him, but he'd learned that there was nothing he could do about it and so he just dealt with it, like he did for a great many things. He opened the door to find Dearka standing there. "What?" Ysak asked flatly. He was on personal "me time", any interruption not named Katie or Chanel was most unwelcome.

"Did you get one too?" Dearka asked seriously. "A recall notice?"

Ysak sighed. "I was just looking at it. Ballsy of them, to declare me a war criminal and then ask for… no… order me to return for muster and reassignment like nothing had ever happened. They even want me to bring "any war material or resources I happen to possess", which means they were paying attention to that fracas in Orb two weeks ago. They know we've got new Mobile Suits and they want them."

"Well, they also want us too. We are two of their top pilots after all." Dearka replied, with a touch of his old arrogance.

"So what did you tell them?" Ysak asked.

"What do you think? I told them to go sit on a Cyclops system. I'm perfectly happy where I am now, on the side of peace."

"Don't you mean Miriallia's side?" Ysak snickered. Dearka eyed him frankly.

"You mean it hasn't influenced you at all that Katie and Chanel are on this side?"

Ysak remained silent. Dearka smiled in triumph. "As I thought. Well, I just thought I should inform you in case you didn't know."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks. In the future, just barge in. Everyone else does."

"You okay?" Dearka asked, surprised at the weariness in his friend's voice. "You sound odd."

"I'm just… well; you know how I was between battles before. I'm so restless I'm wearing myself out. I'll be okay after the next fight."

"Whenever that is. We decided not to go to Washington and there won't be any more fighting except that for the next week or so. ZAFT is still marshalling its troops after the failed knockout punch and the Earth Alliance is still reeling and frantically trying to get a proper defense organized."

"You make me so much happier." Ysak said with a slight smile. "Now go away and play with your girlfriend or something. "You're on "me time" and it's at a premium these days."

"Good idea. Have a fun time by yourself; I'm off to seek beautiful feminine company."

Ysak shook his head and closed the door. Maybe he'd try and get some sleep or something.

---------------------------------

"So what is the situation?" Cervantes asked Asmodeus, turning his office chair to face out the window. It wasn't an actual window, since his office was securely buried in a Colorado mountaintop, but the video screen was of such high definition that there was little visual difference between it and a clear pane of glass out to the outside world.

"The defense lines in Washington are solidifying. They're starting to fortify the other bases as well. The general staff has pulled their heads from their asses and realized that after Washington, ZAFT could attack anywhere and so they need to have a mobile response team ready. The world is a big place to defend, even with a military as large as the Alliance has."

"Will the defenses in Washington be enough?"

"Not by my reckoning. The generals say their forces are positioned well enough to hold off any attack until reinforcements arrive, but they are lying through their teeth. ZAFT has too many new mobile suits and the Earth Alliance too few Strike Crusaders to deal with them equally. The Daggers are outclassed and it shows during every fight. Even being dug in no longer conveys enough of an advantage to equalize the battle. Of course, that is a good thing for CWM, orders for Strike Crusaders have increased by a factor of ten, we can barely keep up actually."

"Still, a show of support is necessary. You'll be taking the BCPU's to Washington before the next attack. I don't expect you to fight off the attack or anything else pointless like that. Just use the battle to showcase the power of our BCPU's and their prototypes. How about the other situations?"

"The Judgment is just over 60 percent completed. The Fury has been completely restored, luckily the Doc kept a backup copy of its OS. All the BCPU machines have been fitted with extra EMP shielding to deal with the Liberty's special weapon in the future. Frost has also recovered completely. He seems to be recovering faster and faster these days. The Doc says it has something to do with the enhancements becoming more familiar with his biologic structure."

"Well and good, but the good Doc is a crazy man. Who knows what is actually happening. We'll just have to keep a sharper eye on Frost in the future. Any luck finding our slippery band of fugitives?"

"Their base is somewhere between Orb and Alaska." Asmodeus replied unhelpfully. "Though it could also be a ship or submersible of some type, that's just as likely at this point as a land base."

"You mean you didn't track the mobile suits to their destination?"

"Not so much didn't as couldn't. The N-Jammers are still around and satellite surveillance isn't what it used to be. We lost track of them about one thousand miles south of Hawaii. Also, most of the Alliances resources were being directed to Washington at the time and that crippled the search effort right from the start."

"What about Kisaka or this Simmons woman?"

"Both are believed to still be in Orb. They have enormous public support, even though the public has grown smart enough to keep it under tight wraps. The last wave of conscriptions was most unpopular."

"They're part of the Alliance now; they don't get to sit this war out." Cervantes said without sympathy.

"Precisely, sir. Other than that, CWM profits are up 17 percent because of war demand and let's see… oh yes, Vanai's pregnancy is starting to show. I've assigned her several experienced nurses to watch over her most carefully. Sai is of course ecstatic, but he also continues to resist Blue Cosmos doctrine about the extermination of Coordinators."

"I wouldn't respect him so much if he wasn't one stubborn son of a bitch. Maybe if his parents get killed in the war he'll change his mind. Any way we can arrange that?"

"I'll see what I can do. I might be able to get them posted to a high priority base once they get out of draftee camp. Maybe Gibraltar or Victoria, some place ZAFT is sure to hit hard as soon as possible."

"Excellent. Any more news?"

Asmodeus pursed his lips in thought. "No, nothing else for now sir. I'll get in contact with the Doc and have him send the BCPU's and their support teams to our building outside Washington. I'll head there as well to make sure we're ready for the demonstration during the next battle. I do have your permission to retreat once I feel we've shown off enough though, right? Washington cannot be saved, even with us there."

"Abandon it as soon as you make an impression." Cervantes directed.

"Thank you, sir." Asmodeus saluted and then left. Cervantes tented his fingers and leaned forward. Things were going according to plan, except for the little fugitives and their game, but that would soon enough be dealt with.


	35. The Battle at DC

Asmodeus waited in his tent, rubbing the early morning crud from his eyes as he paged one last time through the maps and plans he and his tactical officers had hammered out the night before. It was 0330, and the final ZAFT counterattack, the one designed to crush all resistance remaining in Washington DC, was estimated to be beginning at 0400 sharp. In his field encampment thirty miles west of the city, Asmodeus was already out of the direct line of the attack, as safe as anyone really could be in a war. Of course, in about twenty five minutes that would change considerably. Asmodeus listened to the shrill of high altitude missiles arcing down from ships in geo-synch orbit to pound the already battered entrenchments around the city. Every so often a flash of light from the east lit the sky as the flare of a capital ship beam weapon roared down to strike a pinpoint target.

Asmodeus didn't know why ZAFT was even bothering with an orbital bombardment. They had over quadruple the forces the Earth Alliance had, and their mobiles suits were, by and large, newer and better. Besides, the leadership of the Earth Alliance had long since evacuated the city, headed for the more secure military base bunkers. There was absolutely no strategic value to taking Washington DC, except for the blow it would deal to the EA morale, which was at an all time low, especially for the forces defending DC. They knew they were doomed, but there was nothing they could do about it. Asmodeus could not help but wince at a particularly loud crack, the sound of a positron beam weapon fired from a battleship in orbit impacting in the city. Asmodeus had seen what the weapons carried by the Strike Crusaders could do, and their weapons were just roman candles compared to the weaponry mounted on a space battleship. There was little doubt that there was one less city block in the city now.

Markov Ashino sat in the cockpit of the Bane, clad in his jumpsuit with the cockpit hatch propped open to let the air and night in. He had a small glow lamp hanging from the cockpit ceiling and by its light he was taking down notes in a little red leather bound notebook. He had dozens of the things, blue ones, red ones, green ones, black ones, even white ones, each about six inches by eight, with around three hundred pages of lined paper. He used them to write down his thoughts, his impressions, his opinions and observations. He went through about one every two weeks or so. He didn't know why he did it; he just found the act of writing down what he was feeling to be relaxing. He hardly ever read them over, his memory was photographic, but it did feel safer to have a written record somewhere. Maybe someday someone else would read them. Ashino was pretty sure he'd like that.

Cray Thresher was buttoned up tight in the Merciless, clad in a heavy sweater and jacket and heavy fatigue pants. He was cold, and he knew it was ridiculous. He was a BCPU 5, mechanically, bionically and chemically altered to be far more than human. He could survive in arctic temperatures uncovered for weeks at a time. There was no way he could be cold in a mere early October morning. It was barely even freezing out. Still, he started shivering uncontrollably whenever he cracked open the cockpit and so now he just sat, closed up tight, only the dim status lights serving to etch his form into pools of deep and shallow shadows. He couldn't wait to get on with it, to pilot the Merciless in another battle, to feel the shuddering recoil of the guns, hear the roar of the missiles, see the lancing beams turn armor into molten slag and bodies into red vapor. He looked at his cockpit chronometer. Only twenty minutes to go.

Frost didn't care about the weather. He stood outside, on the shoulder of the Fury near the head. The night wind slapped wetly against his face, but it meant nothing to him. Only the prospect of combat mattered. He couldn't get enough of killing. It made his practically meaningless existence bearable, the killing did. He knew that he would have no other purpose, if he did not have that. Regrettably, today's round would be of the impersonal sort, with him in the Fury, killing giant robot dolls, unable to hear the screams or see the snapping bones or smell the fresh blood. But it was still combat. That was good enough, for the moment. He'd be able to have his wish later, he'd been assured. He didn't put much stock in that promise being kept… his masters seemed to believe that because he was completely insane that he was also something of an idiot. Well, the Doc didn't think that way, but Cervantes and Asmodeus certainly did. They looked at him and saw a killing machine, nothing more. They hardly suspected that he was a killing machine with goals of his own. But such thoughts would have to wait for a later time. With a final series of eye searing flashes, the orbital bombardment ceased. It seemed the intelligence reports were off… the attack was starting earlier than expected.

Frost watched as Asomdeus sprinted from his tent and reeled himself up and in to the Purifier. He laconically clambered down into the Fury and started buckling himself calmly in. However, his blood was starting to rush like a raging torrent and he could feel the adrenaline glands and stimulant injectors start pumping beneath his skin. His breathing quickened, his heart pounded, everything seemed to grow slower and sharper and clearer and more intense. He could feel each individual grain of plastic on his control sticks, smell the ink in Ashino's pen more than twenty meters away and hear Asmodeus cursing as he buckled himself in and made adjustments to his precious plans in simultaneity.

Frost snorted contempt. What need had they of plans when they had his raw power and talent on their side? Despite what everyone said, Frost was pretty confident he himself, alone, could handle the oncoming ZAFT advance. He could send them packing, or better yet, he could send them all to their graves, if Asmodeus would only let him loose. But that was never going to happen. Certainly not today. No, today was an advertising campaign. Cervantes wanted to make a point to the EA high command that he had some good shit to sell, and that if they wanted any they'd better damn well sit up and jump when he said jump. He waited, fuming with impatience, for Asmodeus and the other BCPU's to power up their machines and line up all their weapons, so Asmodeus could feel safe enough to send the code that would allow Frost to do the same. Asmodeus sure was a cold bastard, acting like this even after Frost pulled his ass out of the fire in Orb. Of course, Frost expected no different, doing things like this were one of the few smart things they did. Only by totally denying him freedom did they have any chance of controlling him, even slightly and temporarily.

Asmodeus finished bringing the Purifier on line, nearly a minute behind Ashino and Thresher. He sent the go code to Frost's machine and the Fury leapt from cold state to full start in less than fifteen seconds. Frost was raring to go, it seemed. Good, that meant the carnage would be commensurately greater, which would help make Cervantes's point faster, which would allow Asmodeus to get back to a real job sooner. "Form up on me. You all know the plan. Follow the courses input into your machines, take any targets of opportunity, once you reach the extraction point you leave, no exceptions. Clear?"

"Yes, sir." Ashino replied.

"Aye." Thresher responded.

"…" Frost just punched his comm button hard enough to send a grunt of static across the voice link. He chuckled grimly, voice link still open.

"Excellent. Move out." Asmodeus ordered. Frost took point, the Fury being the most agile of the machines present. Thresher and Ashino moved side by side, flanking Frost, while Asmodeus himself flew behind them and several thousand meters higher up, to get a better view of the battleground. From his vantage position he could see the orbital landers coming down like a meteor shower, fat metal pods bursting open like overripe fruit to release Ginns and Dinns by the dozen. Anti-aircraft fire and ground to air rockets churned skyward, but even the massed firepower did little to slow the attack. Sure, a Ginn here or a Dinn there might suddenly suffer a missile or shell strike, arm or leg or head exploding in a flash of smoke and metal shards, but the mobile suits were too maneuverable and well armored for conventional weapons to hurt much.

Beam fire raced upward now as well, as the enemy came within range of the two battalions of Strike Daggers in the city. More than four hundred Earth Forces mobile suits opened up, filling the sky with green energy. Asmodeus closed his eyes to shield them as the expected response rained down from the heavens. More pinpoint capital ship fire hunted through the defenses, seeking out the greatest concentrations of Earth Forces mobile suits and wiping them out.

"Contact." Frost said with sudden relish. He had come across a pair of BuCue scouts, no doubt dropped the day before to search for weaknesses in the Earth Forces line. Both machines were already destroyed before he even initiated the radio link. Neither had so much as been able to turn around, much less fire at him.

"Frost, engage high… Ashino, Thresher, engage low." Asmodeus ordered. In response Frost took off, heading to intercept troop landers still arcing down, while Ashino and Thresher tore off towards the middle of the already landed troops. Asmodeus circled above, a waiting hawk with wary eyes alert for danger or opportunity. It was a complete waste of time for him. He was not needed in the slightest.

Ashino and Thresher waded through a maelstrom of muzzles flashes and missile contrails, pumping out death in wholesale lots. The Bane was capable of engaging three or four mobile suits at a time, and the Merciless consistently wiped out entire teams with rapid fire salvoes. Of course, the collateral damage was obscene. Every time the Merciless fired, a good square acre of land went up in flames, and the Bane was only a little less messy. No enemy approached closer than fifty meters to them at any time during their assault, and the heavy armor of both machines easily deflected the few shots that the ZAFT pilots managed to snap off their way before being blown to tatters.

Frost's fight was another matter. The only gunfire there was directed at him, as the combat air patrol mobile suits escorting the descending landers swept in to keep him away. It was nothing short of a massacre, a turkey shoot. ZAFT pilots would dive in, afterburners glowing, and then they would die. It was that simple. Sword in either hand, beam grapples constantly seeking new targets, gyrating and twirling like a maddened dancer, Frost wove the Fury in between and around the enemy fire, until he closed with a group of four or five and cut them to shrapnel in a storm of green fire. He didn't even use the Celerity system. By Asmodeus's very rough estimate, Frost must have killed forty or fifty ZAFT suits in by the time they had reached the extraction point. Ashino had accounted for twenty three and Thresher had killed thirty. By themselves the three mobile suits and BCPU's had wiped out about a twelfth of the incoming force, and on only one pass. If they had decided to stick around, they probably could have won the battle.

But that wasn't the point of this exercise. Cervantes didn't give a rat's ass about whether Washington DC survived. Asmodeus cared even less. He smirked. Hell, if DC was lost it would only serve to even better point out to his former superiors how helpless they were without Blue Cosmos. And the loss of the capital would inflame those who had previously been reluctant to support the war. A win no matter how he looked at it. Asmodeus took care to snipe a few Dinns for himself as he lead the retreat, so it wouldn't look like he'd just been loitering around up in the sky. With his camera footage of the battle, taken during his overwatch, this would be all over the news and internet within hours. The EA high command would be dragged out into the street and burned if they turned down Blue Cosmos now, after Blue Cosmos had made an effort to pull their fat out of the fire, so to speak. Appearances were everything on the national level. What was did not matter nearly so much as what it looked like.

By the time Asmodeus and his three charges had returned to their field camp, disembarked and helped strike camp, the battle was over. ZAFT was victorious, to no ones surprise. Listening in to a PLANT newschannel, Asmodeus grinned when he heard "…casualties were heavier than expected, due to what one source calls Earth Alliance monster mobile suits. Existence of these mobile suits has not been reliably confirmed or denied by ZAFT."

"They're hurting." Ashino commented. "Cannot confirm or deny, my ass. They just don't want the civilians to panic like ZAFT command is. They don't know what the hell just hit them, even though they did win in the end. From now on, they'll be wondering if any given attack will have us show up in the middle of it and wreak havoc again."

"Look at the master strategist!" Thresher mocked. "If you fought like you thought, then I might actually have someone to be scared of!"

"Might…?" Frost breath from behind him. Thresher couldn't completely suppress his shiver. He'd never even heard a whisper as Frost had crept up on him, and he prided himself on his situational awareness. Frost smiled, noting the shiver. "I thought so… as it should be."

"Stop messing around." Asmodeus ordered. "Your constant posturing grates on my nerves. I forbid any of you from talking until you return to the lab." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, headache already pounding. He was too old for this crap.


	36. Transit time

Mr. Yamato hefted his pack and rifle unhappily as he trudged aboard the cargo-submersible in Norfolk, one of the oldest and largest sea navy bases in the Atlantic Federation. Mrs. Yamato staggered into line behind him, back protesting under the encumbrance of her seventy pound pack. She had been designated a field medic, in reference to a few half remembered first aid lessons she'd received back when Kira was a baby. Mr. Yamato had been made a squad leader due to good performance during basic training, he was brevetted a corporal, which really just meant that he had more responsibility with no extra pay. Pay was a sore subject indeed, because as far as any of the conscripts could figure out, they weren't getting any. The military could say that they had actually spent all their paychecks buying their issued gear as much as it wanted, but these people were adults, not eighteen year olds. They knew bullshit when they saw it. They were conscripts. Life expectancy not very much. Why pay them? Sure, their morale would suck, but even mutineers would fire at the enemy to save their own lives.

Worse was the fact that contrary to all established military custom, conscripts with family or spouses were all assigned to the same unit. Doubtless some cold hearted slimeball back at high command had reasoned that a family would fight harder if they were all in the same danger at the same time. The worst thing was that whoever they were was right. A man would go to far more extremes to protect his wife and child than he would for even trusted squadmates. Trust was another sore subject. People from all strata of society had been conscripted and then thrown together with little rhyme or reason. Mr. Yamato's basic training division had been full of lawyers, fast food servers, ex cons and stock traders, a volatile mix to be sure. His current squad consisted of himself, his wife, a scared young fast food server who couldn't have been more than seventeen, named Jimmy, three tattooed ex-cons, an older man of Japanese descent, and three brothers of eastern European stock.

Mr. Yamato got along with all of them but the cons, who were surly and disrespectful at the best of times. Luckily, the three brothers were very tough men themselves and they kept the convicts from attempting strong arm tactics on their squadmates. Mr. Yamato led his wife and the rest of his squad to their assigned berth, little more than a large cubicle about twenty feet by ten by ten, which was supposed to fit all ten of them. There was barely room to have all of them stand in the room, much less sit down or store their bags. It looked like it wasn't going to be a comfortable ride to Gibraltar. Mr. Yamato made sure his wife and squad were situated as best they could be and then left to find someone in charge, to enquire about food, sanitary facilities and their estimated travel time.

It was difficult going. The cargo-sub wasn't meant to carry large numbers of people, and now nearly a regiment of soldiers was being packed aboard. People were everywhere, the echoes of their voices resounding all around, making it hard to think, much less talk. Mr. Yamato eventually learned that chow was served twice a day, in a ridiculously small galley barely big enough for a platoon at a time. They would be lucky to eat once every other day. Fortunately for him, he had quickly acquired the soldiery habit of bringing his own rations with him, hidden in his pack. Between them, he and his wife had enough food to last them three days. The other members of his squad were likewise well stocked. Sanitary facilities were dismal, only five bathrooms on the entire ship and only one reserved for females. Again, no less than expected.

As for travel time, no one had the slightest clue. And every officer he saw wouldn't so much as look at him, much less give any specific information. Mr. Yamato sighed in exasperation and started to wind his way back through the crowded passage towards his berthing compartment. Suddenly a hand dropped on his shoulder from behind and he tensed. Surely no one would try to assault him in the middle of the hall, and he hadn't done anything wrong…

"Mr. Yamato! I thought it was you, but from the back I could not be sure…" the heavy set man behind him said with a pleased tone. Mr. Yamato took a few moments as he searched his memory for this man, since it had been more than a year since Orb and the last time he had met him.

"Mr. Haw?" he asked, incredulous. "You too?"

"And my wife, of course. The Earth Forces are damned efficient at finding soldiers, if not training and equipping them." Mr. Haw replied bitterly, pulling at the tight stretched sleeve of his combat fatigues. "I've seen the Argyle's and the Buskirk's on board as well."

"I don't suppose any of you have heard from any of our children, have you?" Mr. Yamato said hopefully, though depressed at how many of his friends from Heliopolis had been drafted.

"Not the slightest word. Dropped off the face of the planet, they have. It's driving me crazy, let me tell you!"

"I know what you mean. It must be worse, missing a daughter."

"Miriallia is a tough girl. And your Kira and the others are a good, tough bunch as well. I'm sure she's in better shape than we are, right now."

"I wish I could say I thought you were wrong. Still, knowing Kira… no… I can't say that anymore. I really don't know Kira, not since the start of the last war. He's changed so much." Mr. Yamato replied. _He may not be my biological son, but it still hurts that he's changed so much. Or been changed so much. Having to keep the secret of his parents from him was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. He has suffered so much because of what my wife and I did, accepting him into our home. I hope he can forgive me, eventually._

"Hasn't everything, just." Mr. Haw agreed. "So they made you a corporal. Congratulations, I guess."

"Stuff it in your ear." Mr. Yamato growled. "I catch ten times the shit now. The job has shifted from onerous to hellish. If I never see another sergeant again, I'll have a heart attack from joy." He paused a second. "What job did they give you?"

"Well, I made the tiny little mistake of admitting to having driven load lifters thirty years ago, when I worked a summer job at the Orb docks. So now I drive a half track, while my wife is my navigator and communications operator… just like back home, actually."

Mr. Yamato managed a dry chuckle, and then excused himself to go back to his wife. Nobody in the squad was pleased at the results of his scouting trip, but they buckled down to it. There was nothing they could do besides complain and grumble, of which they did plenty. Clangs and bangs resounded throughout the boat as the sub cast off and slipped beneath the waves, headed out across the wide Atlantic Ocean, to a base that was living on borrowed time.

-------------------------------

The heavy leather ball sailed through the thin mountain air, arcing toward the ground. Ashino trapped it against his bare chest with a meaty smack and then brought his knee up to cradle it for a moment while he turned and aimed. He then pumped his knee, sending the ball straight up and down, right into his swinging shin. The sting felt delicious as the ball spun through the air and through the vertical metal hoop affixed to the wall of the playing field. One more goal and they would win. Opposing players dashed for the ball while it was still falling, because it was very difficult to get it off the ground once it stopped bouncing. And leather balls did not bounce very much.

The game was one based off an ancient Aztec game, the name of which not even Ashino could remember. It was a little like soccer, a little like rugby and a little like basketball, with a tiny bit of bloodsport thrown in for flavor. Or maybe not so much a tiny bit. Players were divided into teams of nine and no padding was allowed. In fact, the only article of clothing that was allowed to be worn was a pair of shorts for guys, with a sports bra like addition for females, color coded either red or blue, depending on which team you were on. The rules were fairly simple and straightforward. Get the leather ball through one of the hoops situated at either end of the playing pit. You cannot use your hands or your feet to propel the ball. That was really it for the rules. Most players, like Ashino, chose to bind their hands behind their back during play, to prevent even accidental hand contact with the ball, which was cause for a penalty, which pretty much meant a free goal for the other side.

Because all the players were BCPU's, the game was very heavily aggression oriented. You could not strike an opponent with hands or feet, but anything else was just fine. It was not uncommon for more than half the players leaving the field at the end to be substitutes for other players disabled by injuries during play. Ashino added another to that number by charging and driving his knee into the lower back of the opponent who was just trapping the ball like Ashino had done less than a minute earlier. The other, a BCPU 3 named Sarl, arced his broad back in agony and fell twisting to the ground. Ashino had felt a few organs rupture under the blow. He stepped over the prone form and bounced the ball off his shoulder, passing it to a teammate. He felt no pity or remorse for the sneaky attack.

As a matter of course, the game was also a simulation of combat. Scientists, doctors and technicians lined the walls of the game pit, a rectangular hole one hundred feet long by fifty feet wide and fifteen feet deep, writing in notebooks, speaking into personal recorders and reading sensor displays. They were there to see how the refinements, additions and prosthetics they had created endured a stressful environment. Also to gauge the skill and worthiness of the BCPU's playing. Someone who was good at the game would have to be in extreme physical shape, have excellent situational and mental awareness, be able to think and plan on the move and be able to endure a great deal of physical hardship. For not only could the players attack you, but the ball itself was made from hundreds of layers of boiled and tanned hard leather. It weighed a good thirty pounds and it was quite hard, with very little give. It couldn't quite crack stone, but an unskillful trap or block could easily earn someone a broken bone.

Winners of the game got positive evaluations and subsequently were considered ready for the next phase of training after a certain number of consistent wins. Losers were punished with even harsher basic training regimes and even "dis-enrollment" after repeated poor performance, which was Doc speak for getting executed and then having your organs and prosthetics harvested for the next crop to use. The Doc himself was watching this game… not in person of course, the Doc hardly ever left the security of his quarters or lab, but there were three cameras watching the course of the game from good vantage points around the field. Ashino ran forward, pushing past two BCPU 2's who tried to intercept him, leaving one on the ground with a smashed nose. Ashino may not have been the biggest player on the field by a large margin… Sarl was a good six foot four inches and weighed two hundred something pounds of muscle mass and his even bigger friend, just called Juggernaut or Jug, who was captain of Blue Team, was seven feet tall and more than three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle… but he was easily the smartest and most agile. Of course he was the only BCPU 4 as well, so that went sort of without saying.

Jug intercepted one of Ashino's teammates, one who was nowhere near the ball action. The enormous BCPU just ran the smaller boy down and trampled him into the ground. It wasn't quite illegal, but it didn't prove much beyond the fact that you could destroy a target of opportunity… anyone could do that, even normals, so most players only went for hard targets, or mission targets, aka, the guys with the ball. Ashino took the opportunity of Jug being out of position to dart through the screen of defenders and intercept the ball with a header. Ashino trapped the ball, balancing it on his forehead. He could hear defenders closing in on him from both sides. Suddenly the sound of their footfalls stopped and then receded. Ashino knew what that meant. A moment later he could almost feel the pounding steps of Jug coming up behind him. Jug wanted revenge for what Ashino had done to his friend. Ashino flicked the ball over to one of his teammates with a twist of his neck. Jug didn't slow down. That was fine. Jug was one of the toughest BCPU 3's, slated for rapid advancement into the BCPU 4 program. However, Ashino didn't feel that Jug had the right qualities just yet. The big guy thought too much with his muscles, not with his brain.

Shani would have agreed with him, he was sure. He'd never been very close with the lime haired BCPU, but they'd been friends, if for no other reason than they shared a higher degree of refinement than most of their peers. BCPU's lower in stature were focused on primarily physical things, getting tougher and faster and stronger so they could get advanced and not "dis-enrolled". BCPU's higher in stature were crazy ass nutcase killers, though Shani had left before they were created. Neither had time for much thought besides the daily grind. They had no appreciation for debate or discussion or argument beyond physical fighting. Ashino could remember fondly some long nights of philosophical, political and moral discussion with Shani.

But now was not the time for fond memories. Jug's shadow blotted out the sun as the massive BCPU tried to throw himself onto Ashino like a gorilla doing a body slam. Ashino skipped to the side with grace undreamt of by his attacker. Ashino pivoted and brought his knee up, directly into Jug's descending sternum. His knee flared with pain, but the joint held and the sternum did not. With a harsh snap, the center of Jug's ribcage collapsed inward. It was simple physics. Force over area. A large amount of force concentrated on a small area… say the force is Jug's hurtling form, the small area Ashino's knee… and the force was magnified many times. Thus the breaking of ribs. Thus the collapsing of Jug onto the ground, shrieking in agony. Thus the transfer of angular momentum into Ashino, which he used to flip himself up, down and around, landing with point of elbow foremost onto Jug's lower neck. Vertebrae cracked loudly and the big BCPU went limp, gasping and drooling wads of spittle. Total paralysis of the lower body. Not uncurable, especially for a BCPU, but debilitating for a long time. It would be several months before Jug was ready to even begin playing the game again, much less be advanced to BCPU 4.

While Ashino picked himself up, his team scored again, winning the game. Ashino cheered with the rest of his team, though it didn't mean much for him. He didn't really want to be advanced to BCPU 5, not that a game on this level could even begin to count towards that qualification. He'd seen what the BCPU 5's were like. He liked having a personality, thank you very much. Ashino had spent his time in the games already, so now he only played for fun. And for the rush of winning, of course. His team's victory wasn't worth as much since he had played, but it was still a victory, and his team had not played poorly or depended solely on him, so that would go in their favor. He sauntered out of the game pit and got dressed. BCPU's still in training weren't allowed much more than simple white-grey tunics and trousers, like the clothes inpatients at hospitals wore. However, as a "graduate" and combat pilot, he got to dress in his uniform, a lieutenant in the Earth Forces Space Forces. He was aware of the privilege and exalted in it whenever he was back at the lab.

The lab itself was buried deep under a mountain in the Chilean Andes of South America. The United States of South America was unaware of the secret research base of Blue Cosmos, constructed with no military or government funding at all. Codenamed JIHAD, the facility was the primary manufactory of Blue Cosmos mobile suits and advanced technologies, of which the BCPU was one. The Raider, the Forbidden and the Calamity had all been constructed here, as had the Fury, the Purifier, the Merciless and the Bane. The Judgment, a colossal mobile suit of epic stature, was still under construction in the factory levels of the base. Lesser factory lines pumped out Strike Crusaders at the rate of one per week, the main production centers for the mass produced mobile suits were elsewhere, under Earth Alliance guard. The base was massive, though not quite on the same scale as Heaven's Base, JOSH-A or Panama. Still, it was large enough for more than five thousand technicians, scientists, researchers, doctors and maintenance personnel, plus a complement of eight hundred Blue Cosmos guards and security personnel. The special BCPU section consisted of three hundred more researchers, surgeons, doctors and engineers, plus one hundred and twenty elite mercenary guards hired from various Earth based military Special Forces units.

Of the BCPU's themselves there were roughly one hundred at any given time, plus about one hundred more potentials… young children, age four to nine, who were undergoing the physical tests to determine their worth to the program. Of the actual BCPU's, sixty were BCPU 2's, thirty seven were BPU 3's, one was Ashino, a BCPU 4, and the other two were Cray Thresher and Zacharis Frost, a BCPU 5 and 6 respectively. Of these hundred, only Frost, Thresher and Ashino had graduated from the program and were considered deployable assets. It took years to create a BCPU, they were not just stamped out like machine parts.

The process started with rigorous physical and mental and academic training. Some would call it brutal, to force young children to endure such trials. Ashino didn't mind. Great threats called for great countermeasures, and the Coordinators were the greatest threat humanity had ever faced, one that imperiled their very existence as a race. By the time the children reached eight or nine years old, they were considered ready for the first implants and treatments. There was only a forty percent survival rate on these procedures… the human body wasn't designed for the renovations a BCPU had. Those that did survive were now BCPU 2's. They continued training for two more years, undergoing even harsher schooling and exercises, of increasingly deadly natures. It was not unheard of for people to get killed during live fire or live blade exercises and wounds were nearly an everyday occurrence.

Now twelve or thirteen, the BCPU's judged ready would go back to the labs for more enhancements. The eighty percent of those who survived would now be BCPU 3's. After three more years, the remaining BCPU 3's would return once again to the labs for what had been the final process. Only one in ten survived the BCPU 4 enhancements. Needless to say, it was hardly an efficient program… ruinously expensive for most companies to undertake, but Blue Cosmos was not just a company… it had resources beyond those available to some nations. Ashino didn't know what the price tag on a single BCPU would be, but given what went into even a BCPU 2, he would not be at all surprised to learn he was worth hundreds of millions of dollars in components alone. Then of course there was training time, housing costs… even a cell cost money… and the price of the equipment he interfaced with, also known as the Bane.

Ashino entered the compound through one of the secure doors, the one vehicles used. As a BCPU 4, he was considered sane enough to not need an escort wherever he went. Or at least not a visible one. Ashino was pretty damned sure there was always at least one hidden camera trained in his direction. Ignoring his watchers, Ashino buzzed the elevator and went down to the first sub level of the base, which housed the quarters for the guards and researchers. The elevator guards acknowledged him, swiped his ID and searched him, even though there was no way he could have had a weapon. Again, Ashino didn't mind. They were just doing their job. The guards escorted him to the next elevator, past several sentry gun mounts and camera blisters. Calling the facility "secure" was a little like calling a mobile suit "an upgrade" to a tank. As in, it didn't even begin to cover it.

Each level was compartmentalized with thick steel blast doors, magnetic locks and fortified with heavy machine guns mounted on wall and ceiling turrets. The turrets would shoot anyone and anything not cleared by the security system, controlled by round the clock shifts of guards down on sub level 5. They did not fire at Ashino, but they did track him as he moved. He was so used to their presence he didn't even really notice them. As an additional security measure, to get to each lower floor and upper floor, you had to use a different elevator than the last time. Well… except if you used Doc's private elevator, that went straight from his opulent quarters on sub level 2 to his private lab on sub level 6.

Ashino made his way down through sub 2, which housed the generators, air exchangers and heaters for the facility below, as well as massive storage chambers for food and supplies. Sub 3 was the first of the actual "facility" levels, consisting of testing labs, training areas, classrooms and operating theaters. Sub 4 hosted quarters for the BCPU 2 and 3's, more classrooms, more training rooms, more labs and the simulator chambers for pilot simulation. Sub 5 was the most advanced labs, the prison wing where new arrivals or punishee's were held, the BCPU 4 rooms aka cells, the recently converted BCPU 5 rooms, the waste pit, which dropped four hundred meters further into the mountains roots and the testing chamber where some trials for advancement were held. It was also the space where Doc addressed all the BCPU's, on those rare times he felt the need to tell them all something. Sub 6, where Ashino was headed, contained Doc's private lab and workspace, the BCPU 4 and above training area, more piloting simulators, a small gym, a recovery room for grave injuries, Frost's cell and a briefing/debriefing room.

When Ashino entered the lab the Doc was working. Clad in his usual blood and fluid stained operating vestment, Doc stood over one of the four operating tables in the actual lab area. A young child, only eight years old the tag dangling from his ankle said in bright red letters, was strapped to the canted table. The child's chest was opened up and the Doc was tinkering around in the chest cavity, maneuvering what looked like an adrenalin injector to Ashino's eyes into place. Ashino kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt Doc's concentration while he was performing an upgrade. However, the Doc noticed him anyway, as he had expected.

"Markov… good game." The Doc said, without turning. "There… now… doesn't that feel good?" he asked the operatee. The child on the table nodded, biting his lip to keep from screaming in agony. The Doc used anesthetic during his procedures… he wasn't a monster… but he did like to keep his subjects awake. He said that was because the subject was the first to feel something go wrong, and could tell him about it. Ashino privately thought it was because the Doc was a sick man, who got most of the joy in his work from hearing the stifled gasps of pain as he worked. Not that Ashino begrudged the Doc, who may have been insane and twisted, but who was still the closest thing to a father figure Ashino had. He didn't love the Doc, but he far from hated him. It was an attitude all the BCPU's had. As humans they could hate him for what he had done, taking away their lives… but at the same time they were grateful to him for making them into something powerful and special. That he loved them was plain to see from the amount of work he put into them. If some of them had to die to make the others better, well, a father had to make tough choices sometimes.

"I had to teach Jug and Sarl a lesson. Their instructors need a reprimand, letting them get so undisciplined." Ashino replied.

"Not all of your brothers and sisters are as governed by their higher minds as you are, Markov." The Doc said. "Going with instinct can be a good thing too… look at Frost."

"With all respect… I try not to."

"Heh… yes, you've made yourself quite clear on how you feel about my greatest son. Are you sure you aren't jealous?"

"Very. I like the ability to think."

"You do at that." The Doc's hands flew through the operating procedures as he rapidly inserted and attached blood coagulant dispensers, synthetic muscles, organ armor and nerve wiring into the child's body. Within ten minutes the operation was done and the child was sewn back together, only a very faint scar on his chest proving that he was now a BCPU 2 and not a normal person to the uninitiated eyes. "You can step off the table now, Arnold. You've been a very good boy, not making a sound." The Doc said, though he sounded a bit wistful too, like he'd been expecting a bit of screaming and yelling.

"T-thank you, sir." Arnold replied shakily, almost falling off the table.

"Please… call me Doc… everyone does." Doc said, pressing an intercom button. "Mr. Langly, please collect Arnold and return him to his quarters. He's on operation watch for the next two days."

The door to the lab buzzed open and a white lab coat clad instructor came in. He bowed to the Doc and nodded respectfully at Ashino, before taking Arnold roughly by the arm and pulling him away. It was the job of the instructors to instill the fear of god and man into the BCPU's so they could be controlled by their human superiors. Ashino remembered Mr. Bockller, his Instructor. God, but he'd loathed and feared the man. But he couldn't deny that Bockller had made him into an excellent soldier. Arnold and his instructor left and the door buzzed shut.

"Not everyone calls you Doc, Doc." Ashino said. He'd been around for a while, in the program for close to twelve years now. He knew the Doc about as well as anyone did. And that meant he knew that the Doc's name was actually Frank. Frank something. He only knew his first name.

"I'm on a first name basis only with my family, Markov. And I loathe my family, you know that." The Doc answered, putting up his tools and wiping the gore onto his apron. The Doc always forgot to clean his clothing and switch out his aprons, so he could be quite frightening to behold for the first time. A middle aged man, perhaps in his fifties or sixties, average height and build, with graying brown hair and dark blue eyes, dressed in formerly white clothing with blood streaks and spots all over it, holding a razor sharp scalpel in one hand, brought to mind all sorts of images of mad scientists. Of course, the Doc was mad and he was a scientist, but he produced tangible and realistic results, unlike the figures of fiction.

"A broken upper spine, a shattered ribcage, internal bleeding, punctured organs… you did a number on Juggernaut. And you ruptured Sarl's spleen and left kidney with that back attack. Neither will be advanced to BCPU 4 for at least five more months, now. And with graduation only two weeks away too…"

"I'm not sorry, Doc. They had it coming to them. And if they couldn't prevent it from happening, they hardly deserve to be promoted, do they?"

"I'm not rebuking you, my boy. Just observing. So did you come down here just for a chat or did you want something? A girl maybe? Thresher requests feminine company quite often."

"I'm not Cray, Doc. No, I didn't come down here for that. I just wanted to know when we were going out on an operation again."

"Unusual. You aren't usually this eager for fighting. Especially in a war you don't totally believe in."

"Doc…"

"Shut up, my boy. I know you as well as you do. I know your motivations and your thoughts. I suppose I ought to be grateful that you are so reluctant to wipe out my kind, even though you agree that they are a threat, but weakness is NOT tolerated in my program. And pity and understanding for the enemy is a SERIOUS weakness, my boy."

"Doc… isn't there any other way to get rid of the Coordinators? Send them all out to beyond the asteroid belt or something? Why do we have to kill them all? I know I've been made into a weapon and that weapons aren't supposed to care how they're used… but it seems so wasteful to just kill them all, when they could be used for something."

"Coordinators are human, my boy. We may be changed… manipulated… modified… but at the basic level, we are still Homo Sapiens. If enslaved we will find some way to revolt. If harnessed we will sabotage. If allowed status we will rebel. That's what humans do. Worse, if confronted with the strange, incomprehensible or that which we find frightening, we will do our best to eradicate it. For humans, that which is frightening is the Coordinator. For the Coordinator, that which is frightening is the Human. The two cannot co-exist, because they must have one be superior over the other, and neither is willing to submit." The Doc said tiredly. It was one of the closest of secrets, but the Doc, the mastermind behind the BCPU project and high level member of Blue Cosmos, was actually a Coordinator. Why a Coordinator would work to destroy his own people was one of the things Ashino did not know about the Doc. He didn't think even Cervantes Zunnichi, the new head of Blue Cosmos, or Murata Azrael, the old head of Blue Cosmos, had known why the Doc worked for them. That he did was enough.

"So we have to kill them because they are human… in order to protect humanity?" Ashino asked.

"Don't twist words, Ashino. You don't want to make me angry. History is full of similar actions."

"Like the Nazi's of World War II?"

"You say that like it was a bad thing."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"History says so." The Doc mused. "Given how long ago it happened, I'm inclined to believe the facts have been warped, though how much so I don't know. I'm just not sure which part of the analogy the Coordinator is. Are we the Nazi's or the Jews? We have the genetic purity the Nazi's strove for, and the elitist attitude… but we are also persecuted for being perceived as better, wealthier, ahead of our fellows. Think on that, my boy and tell me if you can come up with a good answer. As for your initial question, I have it on good authority that the three of you will be deployed to the Gibraltar area in the next few days."

"Why Gibraltar? We're sure to lose that base."

"Maybe keeping the base isn't what the Alliance wants. It is beyond me, I know medicine, not war. Now, get you off to your quarters. It'll be meal time soon. And remember what I said about Nazi's and Jews. I'll be expecting an answer."

"Aye aye, Doc."


	37. Transit time part 2

"This machine is awesome!" Ysak muttered, cramming his head and one arm up inside the head assembly of the Duelist. He was back in Hawaii, at Alkire's house-bunker-thing. The mobiles suits were by far too large to fit into the hanger, so they had been scattered around the palm jungle nearby, covered with visual, radar and heat camouflage netting to mask their presence from enemy eyes. Of course, who the hell was going to come way out to this isolated peninsula was an unknown, but it was better to be safe than surrounded, as James had put it. Each pilot had spent their time since flying back from Orb making the slight little personal adjustments to their machines that would turn them from excellent to devastating.

Ysak for instance… he liked getting a good look at his opponents. The camera's that were the eyes of a mobile suit normally kept their resolution to a minimum, to maximize the number of targets that could be easily tracked. In reality, they could just display targets as boxes, but that was a little much… it was tough to believe a box was shooting at you. Ysak was turning the resolution up on his cameras so that he could better notice little details, like the width of a gun muzzle or even markings on armor that might indicate weak points. Crazy as it might sound, he'd made kill shots like that before, by targeting a scratched and repainted section of armor that was weaker than the surrounding plates.

Ysak was paying so much attention to the cameras, which could zoom in to a degree he had previously thought impossible, that he didn't hear the two pairs of feet walk up behind him. He had no idea Katie and Chanel were even in the forest until one of them… Katie probably… slipped her ice cold hands up under his shirt while he was standing next to slash inside the head of the prone Duelist. He jerked and slammed his head hard into the inside of the head assembly, making a dull "bong" sound and causing him to drop his adjustment tool out onto the ground outside. His sleeve was snagged on the lip of the armored skull and so it took him almost a minute and a rip in his shirt to fight his way out of the head.

Katie and Chanel were in hysterics, holding onto each other for dear life as they laughed. He glared at them, rubbing his sore head. "Yeah… that was reeaallly funny." He snorted. "You have nothing more productive to do?"

"Not really. We don't have a mobile suit to work on." Chanel replied.

"There is a god, thankfully." Ysak mumbled.

"What was that? I think somebody just made a smart comment." Katie said impishly. "I think this same somebody doesn't want the cool refreshing drink we brought him. Don't you agree, Chanel?"

"I don't know… that "bong" was worth a few smart ass comments, I think."

"What's this about a drink?" Ysak asked. He'd been so concentrated on his work he hadn't really felt the stifling heat and humidity. He was parched, come to think of it.

"I made three strawberry slushies. One for me. One for Katie. And one for an as yet unnamed person." Chanel replied.

"Don't beat around the bush. What do you want and for how long will I have to do it?"

"Perceptive as ever." Katie smirked.

"You two never come around except when you want something."

"Ooo… someone really is smarting. He's thinking with his bruise, not his mind. He seems to have forgotten about last night… who was doing the wanting then, hmm?" Chanel countered. Ysak didn't have a good answer for that one.

"You're coming swimming with us for at least the next two hours. You have to promise, and then we'll give you the drink."

"No thanks… I need to work on the Duelist. I'll just take a drink of water…" Ysak trailed off. His canteen was lying on a portable workbench nearby, tipped over and drained out onto the soft dirt. "Some people might regard this sort of thing as blackmail." He pointed out softly.

"Some people might, but you don't." Katie said with a smile. "You want the slushie, you're just making excuses because you don't want to go swimming. You do know how to swim, right?"

"You know I do. I'm a trained combat diver. But I really need to make this modification."

"Then make it. But you're not getting a drink until you promise to go swimming with us. We have all day. Its only ten am. We're not thirsty, so go right ahead and make your modification, we'll be right here." Chanel replied. She swung a cold thermos up and down, making a heavy shifting sound as the ice and fluid inside slushed around. Ysak gave her a glare as cold as the thermos, and then picked up the tool and crammed himself back into the head assembly. It was no use. Every couple of minutes Chanel would swish the slushie around, while Katie would take loud swigs from her own canteen of water and make loud comments about how refreshing a good swim would feel. Ysak could have spit in the eye of a man torturing him with red hot irons, but some things were not meant for humans to bear.

Ysak twisted the adjustment tool a few more times, setting his resolution to a level he could tolerate, even if it wasn't perfect. He then shimmied out of the head assembly without hitting himself this time. It had only been about ten minutes since the girls had shown up. _It's a good thing they weren't around during the last war… I never would have been ready to sortie_. Ysak thought sourly. "I do solemnly swear to go swimming with you two for a time not to exceed two hours." He intoned seriously. He paused a moment. "Gimme the damn drink."

"Guys always come around to the girl's point of view, eventually. You'd think they'd go easier on themselves and just agree right away." Katie commented.

"They wouldn't be guys if they did that." Chanel replied, tossing Ysak the thermos. He took a long gulp and shivered. Sweet, frosty and fruity, the fluid seemed to carve a path through the heat built up in his body. Maybe not as refreshing as a glass of pure ice water, but it was a long way from terrible.

"All right, let me go back and get my swimsuit and we can go." He said.

"Oh no you don't… we know you… you'd take a good twenty or thirty minutes to get ready, if you go back to Uncle Alkire's place…" Chanel said.

"You're fine as you are. There's no one around but us to see, anyway." Katie finished. Ysak looked at them both askance.

"You're not suggesting…?"

"Not in the slightest…" Katie said.

"We're insisting, actually." Chanel said, having the grace to blush.

Ysak looked left. The jungle was deserted. He looked right. Also deserted. He looked up, down and all around. Nobody else was around that he could detect. All the same he kept his voice to a barely audible whisper. His cheeks heated even as his voice cooled. "You want to go skin diving, in the jungle?"

"Skin diving in the ocean actually… the jungle streams all have yucky stuff in them, leeches and that sort of thing." Katie replied, not bothering to whisper.

"Keep your voice down!" Ysak hissed. "If Dearka heard about this he'd have candid photos already developed by the time we got out of the water."

"And?"

Ysak put his hands to his face. "It may not be a big deal to you two…" he hissed. "… but to me, that sort of thing is horribly embarrassing. I HATE being embarrassed. And that goes triple for being embarrassed by Dearka!"

"He doesn't do it out of spite." Chanel commented.

"I KNOW! That makes it worse! It's because he thinks he is trying to help me that it bugs me so much. If he was doing it to be mean I could just punch his lights out and that would be that. But he's genuinely trying to help me, misguided though his attempts are. I can't beat him into unconsciousness for trying to be a good friend."

"Poor Ysak… so confused." Katie said, both sarcastic and sympathetic.

"Just… shut up. Let's go get this over with."

"Ah… now that Ysak knows we'll be taking off our clothes he wants to get started… should have dangled that in front of him from the beginning." Chanel remarked.

"That isn't the reason."

"Sure it isn't. You're turning red." Katie observed.

"That isn't the ONLY reason." Ysak amended.

"Closer… but I still sense some falsehood." Chanel countered.

"Damn it, I am a male! So sue me!"

----------------------------------

"Need any more help?" Cagalli asked. Athrun took a moment to consider his reply. He was lying on his back, wedged up on a thick tree branch positioned under one of the thruster nozzles of the Righteous's wing flyer packs. The nozzle had been stuttering a bit on the flight from Orb… nothing major, perhaps a .5 percent drop in efficiency, but he'd felt it, even though he wasn't anywhere close to attuned to the machine yet. So he'd resolved to make the necessary adjustments when he got the chance. Maybe it wasn't something most pilots would even notice… but he wasn't most pilots. Everything had to be optimum for him to feel good about it… at least with regards to mobile suits. In the rest of life he was learning to accept a little imperfection, less he be driven crazy.

"Nah, I got it for now. Thanks for the lift, love."

"You just wanted me to put my hands around your waist. You didn't need any help getting up into that tree." Cagalli accused him.

"I can't exactly deny you that point. But why jump or climb when you can be lifted?"

"You're not all that light." Cagalli commented, rubbing one shoulder in an exaggerated motion.

"I'm not all that heavy either. What am I, like one hundred forty something pounds?"

"One hundred and fifty five, lardo."

"We can't all be anorexic."

"I'm not anorexic! I just… like moderation. In what I eat!"

"Good qualifying statement, love. I was about to fall out of the tree in shock at your apparent loss of your sense of reality there."

"So have you figured out what was wrong?" Cagalli said, changing the subject.

"Just a factory miscalculation, an extra .1 added to the wrong side of the thrust control algorithm. Nothing too strange to find on an experimental model of mobile suit with a bunch of experimental gear, like the Righteous. It's not something I would have noticed back when I had the Aegis… but now… well… the flight just felt off, just a tiny fraction. And when fighting guys like Frost, even a tiny fraction is too much."

"No argument there. So can you fix my machine too, once you are done?"

"Why, what's wrong with it?"

"I don't know. Maybe there isn't anything wrong. But if the factory made a miscalculation with your machine… maybe they messed up a little with mine too."

"Have you noticed anything that's not like it should be?"

"I have no clue. I'm not an ace mobile suit pilot like some people. I don't even know what the thrust control algorithm is, much less precisely how it affects flying, other than it controls thrust."

"By and large, if you haven't noticed anything wrong with how the Rubicon performs, then nothing needs to be fixed. Maybe there are some irregularities in the targeting displays, like Kira had. Maybe your thrusters are a little off, like mine are. Maybe your camera isn't adjusted to quite the visual acuity you want, like for Ysak. Or maybe your communication gear just stops working for about five minutes every three hours, regular as clockwork, which is Dearka and Miriallia's problem. However, if you haven't noticed anything detracting from your control and operation of the Rubicon, chances are, I don't need to fix it for you, because if I did then the fix might throw you off."

"So you are saying that because I'm not a good enough pilot to really notice the tiny little things that may be wrong, that they shouldn't be fixed because then that might throw me off?" Cagalli said, slightly incredulous.

"In a nutshell… yes. Not to be insulting, Cagalli, but compared to Kira, Ysak, Dearka and myself, you aren't much better than Alkire or one of the TEMPEST soldiers would be. For instance, if I fixed your targeting system to the level I have mine set on, or god forbid, the one Kira has put into the Liberty, you'd never be able to fire your weapons, because your machine would never give you target lock, because you aren't able to move the crosshairs that finely. You're a good pilot, a good shot and a good fighter, love, but you don't need the super special tweak job on your machine… at least not until you can start fighting like Kira did during the early stages of the last war."

"It'd probably be easier to grow wings and fly off under my power." Cagalli said sourly. "I've logged hundreds of hours on mobile suit simulators, and Kira started out doing better than I ever did. If it wasn't for the compensatory AI in the Strike Rouge I would have been blasted into scrap five minutes after I sortied into Jachin Due."

"There you are selling yourself short. You may not be an ace, but your no slouch either, love. You're good enough to beat anyone not in an elite squadron, rest assured." Athrun replied, reaching both hands into the torso sized thrust nozzle. He almost instantly found the problem. One of the inner sealant rings was a tiny bit loose. He drew a wrench from his belt and set to work levering at it. It was more a brute strength problem than anything requiring finesse. It was tough getting the right amount of torque while lying flat on his back on a tree limb suspended four meters in the air, but he managed slowly. "I'll take a look at the Rubicon if you really want me to, but unless I find a glaring problem I'm not going to fix anything."

"Erica Simmons built these… there's no way in hell that the term "glaring" could be applied in any negative way to them." Cagalli replied.

"That's likely true. She's a very talented engineer. Just goes to show, Coordinators don't have all the smart people."

"I knew that already. I mean, look at you…" Cagalli trailed off impishly.

"Oho… somebody's getting some lip. I think I oughta fix that before I do any work on your machine."

"Interesting euphemism. I hadn't thought of it that way before. Maybe I should go smear some motor oil on myself." Cagalli retorted wickedly. Athrun opened his mouth to reply, but was honestly stuck for a comeback to that. Instead of answering, he rolled to the side and dropped off the tree branch, somersaulting in midair to stick a near perfect landing in the jungle loam right next to Cagalli. Before she could even twitch, he picked her up in both arms and bounded off into the undergrowth. He gloried in the feel of her in his arms, the soft flesh, the well defined muscles, and the sweet blond hair blowing in the wind of his movement. She only weighed about one hundred or so pounds, maybe a little more… he'd never been around when she weighed herself and he was girl savvy enough to know not to inquire. In any case, it wasn't enough to tire him for the short distance he was going, a good part of his military training had focused on bringing out his physical potential, which was of course greater than that of a Natural's.

About a hundred meters into the jungle he found what he was looking for, a small glade of fern-like plants, with long, wide feathery leaves that made a sort of den or hollow underneath which all was shadowy soft grass. The perfect little hidey hole for a bit of recreation. There were bunches of them scattered along the jungle peninsula, Athrun had encountered several during his previous stay at Alkire's house. He hadn't specifically sited the Righteous's hiding place near one, but finding one nearby had been a happy accident. They were a great place to relax when he wanted to be alone, rarely though that was. They also made a great place to have a refreshing lunch break, sheltered from the glare of the sun and cooled by the shade from the heat of the day. He checked the make sure there were no animals sheltering in the glen by kicking a scrap of tree bark into it. When nothing hissed or yelped or ran out, he knew it was unoccupied.

He lowered Cagalli into the soft grass at the center of the glen. She looked around speculatively. "So this is where you've been going during your work breaks. I always stopped by and I could never find you."

"I'm with you ninety percent of the time, both when I'm awake and asleep. I do need some time by myself."

"I wasn't mad, I was just curious about where you could have disappeared to."

"Well, as you can no doubt see, here is where I've been. Neat, huh?"

"Reminds me of the tree fort at my house." Cagalli said with a smirk.

"Funny… reminds me of that too… but with less policemen and authority type figures around."

"I know what that means."

"It means something… besides the fact that we won't be thrown in jail if someone walks over here?"

"You're too pure, Athrun. It means we can be as loud as we want."

"Don't let Kira hear that… he'll have nightmares."

"Duh. I'm not an idiot. As far as he knows, we do it like churchgoers, all stiffness and politeness."

"Where do you get these analogies?"

"Shut up and get started, damn you."

"Yes ma'am. Your wish is my command."

"As it should be."

-----------------------------

Asmodeus stretched and yawned, twisting his neck from side to side to try and clear the crick caused by leaning over a computer screen for too long. He'd been combing the nets… all of them… for any tiny little scrap of information that would lead him to finding Vladimir, Jones and the rest of that little group of insurgents. Frustratingly, he hadn't found a damn thing. Jones had done an exemplarily job of covering his own tracks, damn the man to hell. There were traces, but they were nothing more than hints of tidbits of shreds of the evidence he needed to pin down exactly where the enemy was hiding out. So far as he could figure now, the enemy could have their lair in any one of a cornucopia of nations or locations, including Alaska, North Africa, Hawaii, Eastern Europe, the Midwest of the Atlantic Federation and Australia. It was too bad Jones and company had to die. If they could have been recruited, they would have made operatives good enough to make the fiction heroes look tame.

Asmodeus glanced at his computer clock. It was five pm. He had a dinner party to go to at six. He reluctantly shut down his portable workstation and disconnected from the corporate internet login port in the Senior Vice President's office of the Hawaii subsidiary branch of CWM. He wasn't going to get any more work done now and maybe after clearing his head at the party he would have a new perspective when he tried searching again later that night. Asmodeus got up and left the building, getting into the private limousine reserved for CWM executives that was stationed outside the building. A Hellhound operative was at the wheel of the armored car, and three more sat in the back, clad in dinner dress tuxedos. After a quick stop at his hotel to get changed into his white tux and pants, Asmodeus and his guards drove to the dock, where they boarded a hydrofoil for the ten minute boat ride to the Zunnichi private island.

The party was being hosted by the new Vice President of the Hawaiian subsidiary, to honor his soon to be announced wedding date. That his soon to be bride happened to be Vanai Zunnichi made it a must attend event for almost the entire senior staff of CWM, as well as a great many dignitaries from the Atlantic and European Federations. Notably absent would be anyone from the Orb Protectorate, the Kingdom of Scandinavia or any nation which was less than utterly devoted to the cause of Blue Cosmos. Asmodeus stepped off the hydrofoil onto the island's private dock. Already tied up there was Cervantes's luxury yacht, as well as smaller yachts and pleasure cruisers owned or rented by the various executives and dignitaries. Asmodeus walked briskly to the end of the dock, but instead of heading up the paved path to the mansion proper, he turned off left and walked across the beach, his four man escort detail following him as smoothly as machines.

In less than three minutes Asmodeus had located the security command center, cunningly concealed in a bunker hidden beneath a sand dune. The hatch was opened from the inside and Asmodeus and his guards slipped inside quickly. The security command center was a bunker in the military mode, made from solid steel reinforced with armor plates and thick gas proof doors. It had its own power generator and back up battery, a small armory, oxygen refreshers and food stores. It could survive as a self contained environment for a month at a time. However, tonight a full lockdown was not required. The command center was actually nearly deserted, being occupied only by a pair of bored Hellhound team members assigned to watch the array of cameras and monitoring sensors. Asmodeus walked over to a communications console and pushed a button.

"How is the night, Cyprus?" Asmodeus asked. There was a moments rustling of static before a calm, almost inflectionless voice came back across the encrypted radio channel.

"Outside, the night is quiet, sir. Mr. Zunnichi arrived two point three four eight hours ago and his security detail has the place locked down as tight as a bank vault." Cyprus Finch, Lieutenant in the EFSOU and Hellhound team alpha team leader replied. More commonly known… actually, legendary… as "The Lieutenant", both by the men under his command and the Special Forces community at large. Cyprus was all that a commando should be. Smart, fast, talented, skilled, practiced, diplomatic, aggressive, careful, intimidating, respected, feared… he had it all. He might not have excelled in any one aspect of the Special Forces codex, but he could do anything with superior proficiency. Demolitions, hand to hand, tactical fire, assaults, running battles, vehicle combat, knives, swords, guns, axes, fists… you name it, he was deadly at or with it. He was the best operative Asmodeus had ever seen or heard of. He even scared the Coordinators.

"And how secure is it?" Asmodeus asked.

"With my men and I in position… sir, nothing can get through our security. There is no safer place on or off this planet tonight. I promise. The young master's party will not be disturbed."

"The young master? You mean Sai Argyle?"

"He may not be a soldier, sir… but that does not prevent me or my team from having the highest of respect for him. He might just be a young man, but he's as impressive in his way as I am in mine. I wouldn't casually challenge him to a game of tactics."

"Surely you jest."

"Well… maybe tactics is going a bit far. Unless it was a seek and hide scenario. I've watched him demonstrate some of the prototypes he has helped CWM create. When those get on the market, my job will not become easier, let me be frank."

"You'll find a way. Nothing can stop the Lieutenant."

"Wish the young master well for me, sir. Team Alpha is behind him and the young mistress all the way, no matter what. And tell him that if he really wants to thank us, he'll leave the beer in an old packing crate outside the patio door, instead of out in the forest. That way Ramirez can pick it up on his early morning sweep, instead of having to search around for it near the old nests. Lieutenant out."

Asmodeus nodded to himself and then left the command center and headed to the main building, from whence he could hear the sounds of an upper class party in full swing. Asmodeus fancied he could spot movement in the forest or behind some of the sand dunes, but it was nothing more than a fancy he knew. With Team Alpha on the watch, nothing short of an armored regiment could get within shouting distance of the mansion, and his eyes were not keen enough by several decades to pick out the team members in their hiding places. That he was being watched he had no doubt, in fact several rifles were likely being trained on him or on his surrounding area anyway, right now. Asmodeus walked calmly and confidently to the front doors of the mansion and let himself in. Butlers and servants came rushing to take his coat and the coats of his bodyguards, but Asmodeus waved them away. He was only putting in a required appearance; he and his men wouldn't be here long enough to grow uncomfortably hot. Plus, without his jacket on he'd have to take off his pistol holster as well to avoid making guests uncomfortable, and then he'd be uncomfortable.

Asmodeus took a glass of white wine and made his way across the great dining room hall. He greeted the President of the Atlantic Federation and his wife, nodded to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, waved a brief acknowledgement to Captain David Icarus, captain in the EA space forces, and gave a few more subtle greetings to the executives and sponsors of Blue Cosmos present. Within a few minutes he had forged his way through the hangers on to the more select members of the group. Here were the lords of industry, the men who were rivals of Cervantes Zunnichi in the business world, men who owned vast pieces of the world economy. Produce magnates, refinery scions, resource barons, the moneyed aristocracy of the modern world. Each of these men and women had wealth enough to comfortably buy a small nation, with cash enough left over for a space colony or two. And while they may be rivals with Cervantes Zunnichi in the business world, many of them were at least dues paying members of Blue Cosmos, if not actual sponsors.

All of them agreed wholeheartedly that something lasting needed to be done about the "Coordinator Issue". Unchecked the PLANTS economies would eventually overwhelm their own corporations. In the weightless environment of space, industry inconceivable on Earth could become commonplace. And with the current public eye towards the future, the first nation… or company… to master solar or even interstellar travel would make a fortune so vast as to make the rest of money earned in all of history seem like a drop in a bucket. And plainly put, the Coordinators were a lot more likely to solve that problem first, being that they already lived full time in space and had decades of experience in managing long term terrestrial environments in the depths of space. How much of a technical and logistical leap was it from a space colony to a space Ark? Uncomfortably little, all agreed.

And so, these people, these giants of money, who would ordinarily not even give each other the time of day, were all gathered in one place, ostensibly to celebrate the marriage of the daughter of a man they all secretly hated. However, the real reason they were there was because Cervantes had promised to help them find a way to resolve the "Coordinator Issue", so that they could get back to the regular way of stabbing each other in the back for profit as quickly as possible. Cervantes was preaching to them like he had preached to the people of Orb, though with less volume… though not any less fervor. It was by far a more difficult speech. These people knew Cervantes. They knew he wasn't acting out of goodwill for them, that he was in fact by all chances trying to manipulate them into doing his bidding so that he would come out on top. In short, it was a tough crowd. But Cervantes had always excelled at talking even the staunchest of opponents into at least listening to what he had to say. And deep down inside, these people were worried and scared stiff. They were desperate for a strong leader, a good decision… a plan. And Cervantes was offering all three to them, assuming they would help bankroll Blue Cosmos… which they were already doing, in a very minor sense.

So Asmodeus listened with a keen ear as Cervantes slowly, painfully but surely sweet talked his rivals into sending him huge sums of money, or into providing materials or goods at a vastly discounted price to Blue Cosmos and CWM interests.


	38. Pulsar

George Borander leaned back in his chair and kneaded his eyebrows, trying to massage away the headache. Outside of his office huge machines lumbered and hammered and groaned and shook, but he couldn't hear or even feel the factory through the baffles built into the office. He'd never been able to tolerate even minor distractions when working, but he liked to be able to watch his creations take form in front of his eyes as well. Thus the office was built, hanging from the ceiling of the mobile suit manufactory of BoranderCorp's main industrial center and research labs, located on PLANT Maius Four. BoranderCorp was a new company, having sprung up after the last war when the majority of the ZAFT military technicians and researchers were discharged back into the civilian world. George Borander was a fourth generation Coordinator and he was one of the team who had intially created mobile suits in the first place.

Even by Coordinator standards he was a brilliant man, owning doctorates in Physics, Mechanical Engineering, Applied Metallurgy, Robotics, Aerospace Engineering, Computer Systems and Theoretical Mathmatics, and he was still only 35 years old. he'd acquired a few sponsors from his days in the military and within six months hee had built BoranderCorp up from a small subsidary to one of the largest defense contractors in all of the PLANTS. BornaderCorp also had a civilian side, specializing in applied medicine and genetics, that side was run by his wife, Zelda Borander, also a fourth generation Coordinator.

The Borander family was actually quite extensive and formed something of a "good ole boy" network across the PLANTS. If any family could be said to be the Coordinator equivalent of the Rockefellers of age old history, it would be the Borander family. Most estimates put their number at around ten or twelve within the direct line of descent, but George knew that number was off by at least fifty percent, on the low side. The family had long excelled at medical sciences, and they were actually secrelty ahead of the rest of the PLANTS in that category. They practiced inbreeding by family tradition... not only was Zelda his wife but also his cousin... but through genetic manipulation their children did not have any defects. In fact, their child Noah, the only fifth generation Coordinator alive, was genetically perfect, by any current standard of measure. Of course the cost of the refined manipulations was incredible, and that was the reason the Boranders had so many companies and interests. Trace any profitable company or scheme long enough in the PLANTS and you'd invariably run across a Borander or two somewhere along the way.

George found himself staring at a family picture. It did not have the whole family in it of course, since the entire family only got together once every few years at the most often. No, he'd had a photo taken with the people he saw most often and worked with and liked the most. Himself, of course. His wife Zelda. His younger brother, Jeremiah, a commander and ace in ZAFT and a member of his current project team. Noah, his son. And his older brother, Franklin, whom he hadn't seen since just after GENESIS was destroyed. George's lips twisted slightly, as they always did when he thought of Franklin. His older brother was the black sheep of the family. Equally as brilliant as George, with advanced degrees in Biology, Medicine, Medical Robotics, Molecular Engineering, Chemistry and Genetics, Franklin used to be the man who performed the genetic enhancements to the Borander family children, and also served as the family doctor. He'd come back to the PLANTS from his self imposed exile to Earth to doctor to Noah, and perform a favor for George, even though they were estranged to say the least.

Franklin lived on Earth... doing what nobody really knew. He was impossible to find unless he contacted George first, and he never did that anymore, since the fight after GENESIS. George thought Franklin was crazy, yammering on about the threat Coordinators presented to the future of humanity... even though Franklin was a fourth generation Coordinator himself. George sighed, bringing himself out of the past and back to work. It had been a week since ZAFT invaded Washington DC the second time, wiping away the Natural defenders and laying waste to that eyesore of a city. The victory was phyrric at best though, since the Alliance high command had long since evacuated the city and losses during the attack were far higher than expected. Due mainly to the intervention of three more Alliance "Gundams".

"Gundams" was now the technical term for any sort of advanced prototype mobile suit. George despised "Gundams". He built practical models, not individually tweaked sport car like super machines, tailored for individual pilots. Skilled they may be, but they could do just as good in a command model, like the Guaize, and it would be exponentially less costly than using experimental technologies and whatnot. But the ZAFT high command didn't want to hear it. They loved the Grendels and Efreet... the two new classes of mass produced mobile suits BoranderCorp had designed last year and were currently producing at maximum capacity. But the civilians and Supreme council were demanding something more. Something special, to show that the Earth Alliance wasn't the only power who could build super mobile suits.

Well... George may not have liked it, but given what BoranderCorp was being paid to do so, he could stomach making a "Gundam". Once. And he'd make it as best he could. And plainly put... that was better than anyone else could. Especially since he had the resources and know how of the entire family behind him. He was actually working closely with Jeremiah and Zelda on some of the more esoteric aspects of the new, prototype model. George snorted. No reason to call it a prototype. It would never be mass produced... the technologies it incorporated would not be mass producible for the foreseeable future. The machine taking shape down on the factory floor below his office was unique. Its like would never be made again. George stood up and walked over to one of the windows looking down at the factory lines producing the Grendels and Efreet.

Efreet were designed as land skirmishers, fast, maneueverable and with a host of special features stolen from the X series captured during the last war. They would take the place of the BuCue and Ginn models currently in use by ZAFT. Humanoid in shape, they still were as fast and agile as a BuCue due to the low altitude downthrust jets mounted on the legs, which in effect allowed the machines to hover a few meters above the ground rather than walk. Taller and thinner than a Ginn, Efreet mounted less armor but more weapons. A dual beam cannon turret much like that found on the LaGowe graced the back of the Efreet as well, and there was a six missle rack built into the chest below the cockpit for further ranged punch. However, it was at close range the Efreet shone. Each carried twin beam sabers and mounted a plasma fire projector in the palm of each hand. A plasma fire projector was pretty much just a flamethrower for mobile suits, projecting either a cone or line of superheated and electrically charged gas up to 50 meters in a line or in a 20 meter cone. The fire could melt through vehicle armor with ease and could even penetrate a mobile suit with repeated exposure. Against ground troops it was perhaps the most terrifyingly effective weapon around.

For defensive measures the Efreet had light armor, but it was difficult to hit in the first place... it carried both extensive stealth systems and a Mirage Colloid system which ran off special extra batteries. Since the machines did not have phase shift armor, they could remain invisible for more than two hours at a time, plus an additional two hours off the main battery. Efreet also had solar recharging panels built into their back, which means you could just leave them in the sun for a day and they'd be back to full charge... which cut maintainence costs considerably. To sum them up... they were fast, agile, brutally effective at close range and totally invisible to the naked eye and even most sensor systems. The perfect shock and recon model.

Once the Efreet had confused the enemy line, the Grendel would come up to smash it completely. Grendels were built to replace the hastily designed ZuOot models, which had been rushed into production early on in the last war to provide indirect fire support to the still unfinish Ginn models present at that time. George had never liked the ZuOot... he preferred machines with grace and mobility to go with power. Clanking along on treads made the ZuOot more like tanks than mobile suits... anyone could drive a tank, until recently it took someone special... a Coordinator... to pilot a mobile suit. So thus, the Grendel. Twenty meters tall and hunched like an ape, an erect Grendel did indeed look a lot like a gorilla, crouched forward on its knuckles. Indeed, that was one of its locomotion methods, bounding along on legs and knuckles, which were specially reinforced for that purpose.

Mounting thick armor and extensive ammuntion supplies and extra batteries, each Grendel was a walking armory. Missile 15 racks sprouted from each shoulder. Each massive forarm mounted two beam cannons, two heavy assault machine guns, a beam claw and a beam deflecting shield. The broad torso provided mounting for four additional machine cannons, while the vast back carried two hyper impulse cannons. Maybe not the fastest or most agile machines on the battlefield... but a Grendel could wipe out an entire squad of mobile suits with a single volley... not many suits could comprehensively lay claim to that capability. Grendels could either walk forward like normal mobile suits, using forearm and shoulder weapons as well as the torso weapons. Or they could change locomotion methods, bounding forward at a significantly higher speed using hands and arms like a gorilla. In this second form the hyper impulse cannons were brought into play, at the expense of the other armament.

BornaderCorp factories were currently producing the Efreet and Grendel models at the rate of five per day, each. Still... it would be a while before they became widely used, since ZAFt was still performing its own, unnessecary tests... test required by law they said but George knew to be his competitors searching for flaws. They would find none. Each Efreet cost roughly fifty million dollars... Grendels cost 75 million. Not a bad price tag, all things considered. Certainly much less than the price of the monster slowly taking shape on the main factory line. Each component of the special model had a price tag well into the hundreds of millions... George was glad he wasn't footing the bill, because each day of work he spent more money than all of BoranderCorp made in a week. And there were a lot more days ahead... the special model was only about thirty percent complete. George irritably brushed back his short brown hair and winced, closing his deep blue eyes. His head hurt with all the strain he was under. The Supreme Council wanted their special mobile suit yesterday, and so they jumped down ZAFT's throat. ZAFT in turn jumped down his throat, because most of the generals had no real idea how long it took to develop a mobile suit... especially one like the... George could barely manage to think its name... the Pulsar.

Someone knocked firmly on his office door. "Enter." George called, knowing who it was already. his employees always called before coming to see him, and Jeremiah, his younger brother, was the only one who knocked so firmly. With any luck, his brother would have good news to tell him. George took his seat just as Jeremiah opened the door. George shook his head slightly and smiled, as he always did when seeing his younger brother. George was by no means a bad looking man, he had the refined features of very selective breeding. But genetics had combined very favorably in Jeremiah, who was, by all feminine accounts, drop dead gorgeous as well as brilliant. Mid length blond hair, ocean dark blue eyes, muscular build, naturally tanned skin, Jeremiah was like a hero from some macho action film, except even more dangerous.

A Commander in the ZAFT space forces, he wore his white uniform with pride and decorum, bright medals always flashing, tunic always neatly pressed and spotless. jeremiah was also a mobile suit ace, with over forty mobile armor kills and ten mobile suit kills to his credit, as well as three warships. There were few better pilots in all of ZAFT, especialy now that Rau Le Crueset was dead. And there were no better pilots that also possessed doctorates in Computer Programming, Particle Physics, Chaos Mathematics and Electrical Engineering. Jeremiah could not only fly mobile suits, he could reprogram them to be better than they already were. He had been chosen by near unanimous acclaimation to pilot the Pulasr... a name he himself had coined. The reasons for his selection were myriad and not all had to do with his piloting skills.

"It's finished." Jeremiah said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. A storage disk was held tightly clenched in one hand, gripped as tightly as if the future of the world was contained within it. In some ways, it might have been. "Zelda finished the neural maps and nerve tracery analysis a few hours ago and i just ran through a successful simulation at full capacity."

"You're sure?" George asked cautiously. Jeremiah's only flaw, if he could be said to have one, was that he did tend to be a little hot headed and had a tendency to get slightly ahead of himself, ignoring fractional details that sometimes tripped him up later. "There is no chance something could go wrong?"

"Something can always go wrong. The universe could implode at midnight." Jeremiah countered sarcastically. "But it's perfectly safe as far as any tests I or your own technicians can discern."

George smiled, reassured. If his own techs had agreed then it was surely safe. They were paid to be overcautious. "So the Neural Interface Control system is functional. Thats the best news I've had all week. You realize what a huge step forward that little disk represents for us all?"

"The end of the joystick." Jeremiah laughed. He rapidly turned serious. "But in know what you mean, George. This work Zelda and I have been doing... ground breaking. Earth shattering if you will. We've been able to manipulate genetics for more than half a century now. But until a few hours ago, we still hadn't cracked the human mind and its intricasies. We could map the nervous system, heal it, grow it... but not control it to the degree that its signals could be used as an output. An output to control external mechanisms. A pathway for interface with nonbiological matter."

"You don't have to sell it to me, Jeremiah." George replied lightly. "I've already bought the damned thing. Or rather, your bosses have, for quite the price too, if memory serves."

"Hey... I may have increased national debt by 5 with my project... but at least its done. And with the NIC system, the development of the Pulsar can continue as planned."

"That it can. Here... I'll send the data down right now. Why don't you run me through what it does one last time before the techs get their hands on it... they'll have questions for me for a certainty and you won't always be around to straighten them out."

"Of course, brother. Most of the stuff is outside your technical fields, so i'll try to keep it basic. At the simplest level the NIC system forges a connection between the nervous system of the pilot and the user interface controls of the mobile suit... the Pulsar in this case. Through a lot of very technical applications and equations that you don't really need to know, properrly designed software and hardware allows the pilot to feel the Pulsar as an extension of his own body. When he tells his arm to move the signal is intercepted and redirected by the NIC system to the appropriate controls in the Pulsar, moving its arm just as much as the pilot wanted to move his own. Same for legs and head and other body motions. This eliminates the need for bulky and awkward controls... controls which in truth limit just how manueverable a mobile suit can be. It doesn't matter how many micro thrusters or vector jets you have, a joystick will only let you do so much. It certainly won't let you approach the ranges of motion available to the human form. With the NIC, I can make the Pulsar do handsprings and backflips. Or crawl on my hands and knees. Or do a headstand. Or even play a piano, if a big enough piano was made and I learned how to play." Jeremiah said, pausing for effect.

"But that is not all. For not only does the NIC allow for the user to interface with the machine and make his capabilities its own, but the machine allows its user to utilizes its capabilites as naturally and easily as his own. Humans cannot fly. Mobile suits can. Humans don't have thrusters and have no biologic equivalent. So one would think that a machine with NIC would have to be entirely land based. But that is not so. Again, the reasons why are highly technical and encompass a great deal of the price tag. But when hooked up to the NIC system, I instinctively know how to use the Pulsar's flight thrusters just like a bird instinctively knows how to fly. I can do barrel rolls, loops and aerial equivalents of gymnastics. Maneuvers totally beyond the reach of normal mobile suits are second nature to me. Once coupled with the gravity compensation system thats being developed the Pulsar will be the most agile weapon ever created. I'll be able to quite literally stop in the middle of a dive and change direction without losing momentum. I'll be able to fly rings around fighter jets at cruising speed. And I'll be able to run on my hands faster than most people can drive a car."

"Thats amazing." a young voice said from behind Jeremiah. George started. Once again, his son had managed to sneak up on him. Noah always seemed to find a time when George was paying attention to something else to show up, so that even with his keen Coordinator senses George hadn't detected him. It was something of a tired joke in the family that when Noah grew up he had a bright future in burglarly, since he was so stealthy. However that was still a long ways away... Noah was only ten. This caused many people... well, many of the few who knew him... to be puzzled. Noah was a fifth generation Coordinator. That meant every one of his parents, grand-parents, great grand-parents and great great grand-parents had been Coordinators. Most first and second generation Coordinators were not yet to the age of being grand-parents themselves yet... with the third and rare few fourth generation coordinators were still young... in their early twenties. Except for the Borander family.

George didn't know all the family secrets... but there had been other Coordinators during the time of George Glen. Whoever had created Glen hadn't just stopped there... there had been others. Less public of course, but George strongly suspected that the Borander family had its roots in a pre Glen Coordinator couple. Also, their advanced genetic manipulation technologies allwed them to take sperm and ova from their members as soon as they hit puberty... and artificial wombs were not only the domain of the famous doctor's Hibiki. Noah had been artificially conceived when George and Zelda had been only fifteen. He'd been born ten years later. Well... actually the Noah that had been artifically conceived was not born. That embryo had died, about six months into growth. However, because of what the child represented... a 5th generation, a genetically pure human... seven clones were made.

Of course, at the point in time of the cloning, the problem with short telemeres was not yet apparent. And besides that, the artifical wombs were notoriously unstable. Only one clone... number seven, survived to birth. And that child had proved dangerously unhealthy for the first two years of life... before genetics could assert itself properly. But survive Noah had. And his capabilities put those of his parents to shame. Though only ten years old, he possessed most of the same doctorates both his father and mother posessed, along with a few extra from Jeremiah's fields of expertise and nanotechnology to boot. His I.Q. was off scale... estimated in the lower 700's. Problems that had stymied scientists for decades were plain as day to Noah. Of course, he didn't just go around solving so called conundrums... if he did everyone would know just how special he was.

It would be the Coordinator phenomenom all over again... but this time with Coordinators demanding to be like Noah. He'd be assassinated within weeks, by Blue Cosmos if no one else. Of course, all this assumed that he did not die of old age first. Clones had short telemeres. George did not know exactly what a telemere was, much less how long or short it was, but Zelda assured him that they had a direct role in the lifespan of a human. Something about how well cells regenerated themselves. George himself, as well as all the fourth generation Coordinators in the Borander family could comfortably expect a lifespan of 200 years or more because of how excellent their genes were. Noah should have been able to live far longer. But as a clone his lifespan was estimated to be at most twenty or twenty five years... maybe as long as forty five with medication. Zelda and much of BoranderCorp was working to find a cure for the condition... but so far no one was even close.

Noah was slim and short, with a pale shock of pure white hair. His eyes were violet or gold, depending on which angle you looked at him from... he was a beautiful child. Just starting to flesh out for puberty too. He was dressed plainly; Noah did not favor ostentation, which was looked upon well by the family, since the Boranders rarely showed off their wealth. In one hand he wore what looked like a glove made out of metal... wires snaked across his fingers and a faint crackle of current could be heard. Floating above the palm of the gloved hand was a sphere of inky blackness, about the size of a golf ball. "What's that you got there?" Jeremiah asked, curious. He'd actually enlisted Noah's help on some of the trickier calculations for the NIC, and he was better aware than most that despite his young age Noah was quite mature and often saw things his parents did not.

"It's a Nanomachine." Noah replied, looking slightly sheepish. "I borrowed one of your unused labs and made it a while ago, Dad."

"I told you not to use my labs without asking first, Noah." George said severely. "How much did this little project cost us?"

"Not as much as an Efreet..." Noah trailed off shyly. George groaned inwardly. That was still probably around forty million or so.

"You mean its a nano-cluster, right? Bit big for a molecule sized machine." Jeremiah joked.

"No... its a nano-machine. Singular." Noah countered.

"But... it's the size of a golf ball. Molecules are invisible to the naked eye." George snapped. "You know that."

"Yes, I do." Noah snapped back. "I'm not an idiot." He looked stumped though. "I was building it to work on matter-energy conversion stuff... transmutation of one element into another in a time and cost effective manner. Also the conversion of energy into matter in a practical fashion. But I don't know where I messed up. I made one of these things and fed it some energy... not more than a megawatt or so. It just kept sucking it down. Total energy loss... which of course you know is impossible. Nothing totally absorbs 100 percent of all energy put into it. Some is always radiated as heat or reflected as radiation. But this does. And not only does it absorb energy, it converts that energy into mass. Its own mass. The more power you put into it, the bigger it gets. Even ambient radiation causes it to grow at an incredible rate... more than a micrometer a minute. Thats more than a half meter per year. If not isolated by a magentic containment field it'd be getting bigger right now."

"What's it made of?" Jeremiah asked, brow wrinkled, trying to figure out just what his nephew had made.

"I don't know."

"You made it!" George cried.

"It originally started out as a very compounded silicon nanomachine... much like any other, though of course more complex. But I can't tell now. Because not only does it convert energy to mass, it converts mass to mass. On as close to a one atom per one atom ratio as I've ever seen. That's how it got so big so fast. I tried to probe it with a micro-needle. It ate the needle and got a lot bigger. I tried next with a macro-needle... same result. That's also why its in the containment field... it absorbs the air molecules and makes itself bigger with them." Noah said, puzzled. "It's kind of freaky, actually. The only things it doesn't absorb are magnetic lines of force... which is why it is contained."

"I don't have time for this." George growled. "I have too many headaches getting the Pulsar online by the deadlines. Figure out how to destroy this nanobot and put your wandering mind to a better use. Perhaps you can go over some of the Pulsar systems and see if you can get any insight as to improvements, hmm?"

"I don't think it can be destroyed..." Noah began.

"I don't want to hear it." George was starting to get angry.

"So that's where you went to." a calm, genial voice came from behind Noah. Another man stepped into the room. Tall, well built, he would have been handsome at one point in time, if it wasn't for the burn scars that cris-crossed his face, covering it in a web of small pink and white marks. George knew that those scars covered most of the man's body as well. "I told you not to bother your father while he's working." the man continued.

"He wasn't interested anyway." Noah said dejectedly. George ignored him. His son would learn to toughen up soon enough.

"Michael, it is good to see you." George said warmly. As always though he felt a little cold inside. He could help thinking it. _Damn Natural._

"Mr. Genesis." Jeremiah nodded slightly. Michael Genesis was the head of security for BoranderCorp. He had been a soldier in the last war, though he had lost much of his memory due to an accident suffered during the later stages of the war. He'd actually been found by George when he was helping clean up after the battle of GENESIS. Unable to remember his own name, the vacuum exposed and burned man had been named Michael Genesis in honor of the lost battle of which he was certainly a casualty. After recovering in a BoranderCorp facility for a few months, and after some extensive rehabilitation by Franklin, Michael had come to work for BoranderCorp. He was a skilled pilot... in his way as good as Jeremiah himself, though they'd never fought each other during the war. Well... Michael hadn't. The man he had been might have. It was hard to say exactly. Michael also did double duty as caretaker to Noah and it was in this capacity that he slowly shepherded the young boy away, listening patiently but uncomprehendingly to a lecture on nanomachines and mass/energy conversions.

"He gives me the creeps." Jeremiah said after the door shut. "I know Franklin said he was fixed... but still..."

"He's watched. And Franklin is a genius at psychology... I may not like our brother but he does know what he's doing when it comes to the emotions and memory." George replied. "But lets go over some more of the Pulsar design. Are you sure you like it's present configuration...?"


	39. Gibraltar

Mr. Yamato looked up with dread as the drop pods came pelting down through the atmosphere like giant glowing red hailstones. Barely a few days had gone by since the end of the voyage had dropped him, his wife, his squad and all the soldiers of their conscript regiment off at Gibralter. The doomed base. Everyone knew it. The Earth Forces barely had a division emplaced at Gibralter... and half of that was conscripted or green troops. Only fifty Strike Daggers defended the base. Even with his unpracticed eye Mr. Yamato figured the number of ZAFT mobile suits to be at least 200... plus what ever infantry they chose to land. ZAFT infantry would be even more of a nightmare than their mobile suits.

Mobile suits went after big targets... infantry was a tertiary target at best. But ZAFT infantry... who were more like special forces soldiers, in terms of ability and training, would decimate their Earth Alliance counterparts. When the enemy was better armed, better armored, faster, stronger and tougher than you... not to mention smarter... well, that made things pretty bleak. ZAFt hadn't employed many infantry attacks during the last war, but they wanted to reclaim this base... formerly one of their main strategic Earth bases, as quickly and efficiently as possible. Mobile Suits were excellent at taking and holding ground. But they couldn't make an invasion soley by themselves... they'd run out of power or ammo eventually and be forced to retreat.

Mr. Yamato cursed the Earth Alliance once again for putting him into this death trap. He cursed them more fouly for putting his wife and friends into this death trap with him. Mr. Haw and Mrs. Haw had been assigned... through a little underhanded nudging of sergeants... as his squads transportation. Mr. and Mrs. Argyle had been assigned as their communications people and the Buskirks had managed to get lost and wander over as well. Mr. Yamato almost suspected some higher power setting them all up for a big fall... putting all of his former friends in one group with him... the father of someone the Earth Alliance really didn't care for much. Come to think of it... none of the groups children were especially popular with the Earth Alliance high command... having all been parties on board the "Archangel fiasco" during the last war. But there was little more time for such ruminations. He could worry about them if he survived the next fifteen minutes.

He peered out of his dug out bunker at the arid plains where the ZAFT mobile suits were forming up. Lifting his binoculars he started trying to count makes and models. Lots of Ginns. Many BuCues. Some Ginns. And twelve heavy limbed monsters of a type unfamiliar to him... bristling with weapons and almost projecting menace around them. A detail caught his eye... something was out of place. Three drop pods were off by themselves... but they were empty... no mobile suits came out of them. Twelve mobile suits unaccounted for. Odd. But he couldn't think more about it as he had to take cover from long range fire started coming in... both from mobile suits and low orbit warships.

Weapon percussions and explosions picked him up and bounced him hard against the ground. Even from more than a quarter mile away he could feel the heat of beam strikes and was concussed by shell and missile explosions. Being infantry was not fun. You got to do a lot of hunkering down and hoping some big missile or beam didn't fall on you and snuff you out like a rat... and there was nothing you could do about it. Mr. Yamato screamed involuntarily as more explosions walked closer and closer to his position, sounding like thunderclaps from angry gods fighting. No one noticed... most were screaming themselves. Jimmy wet himself and suddenly rose in a panic and darted out of the bunker. One of the Eurasians... Mr. Yamato could not tell which... tried to stop him and ran out after him. Not a second later the entire bunker jumped slightly as a missle landed almost directly on top of it.

Dust cascaded from the ceiling... but the bunker held. The explosions receeded... ZAFT had softened up this section and moved on to other targets. It took Mr. Yamato nearly a minute to get back to his feet, and his head wouldn't stop ringing. He could barely hear his own wife yelling at him from two feet away. He poked his head out of the bunker and winced. There wasn't much left of Jimmy and the Eurasian man... and what was left wasn't pretty. Smears of guts and blood painted the outer wall of the bunker. There wasn't a piece of flesh within sight larger than a thimble. Jagged shards of missile fuselage lay scattered everywhere... some with red flecked edges. At least they had probably never known what hit them... a fractional mercy.

"HERE THEY COME!" one of the ex-cons shouted, gesturing wildly out an observation port. Mr. Yamato rushed over, as did most everyone else. Here indeed did they come. BuCue's raced across the plains in tread mode, missile batteries and railguns spitting fire and smoke. Dinn's zoomed by overhead, penetrating several defense lines to strike at the scrambling jets and organizing tank squadrons. And the twelve hulking mobile suits were charging as a line... loping forward like maddened gorilla's on their knuckles, blue-red energy flaring from great cannons on their backs to plough trenches of glass through the outer defenses.

However, besides all of that, another detail caught Mr. Yamato's attention. A very high whining sound, growing deeper, as if doppler shifting closer with every second. It sounded a lot like the jump thrusters of a mobile suit... but no mobile suits approached. Mr. Yamato looked at a group of dust devils rapidly approaching his bunker. Quite large ones, spewing dust in all directions violently. Oddly, they were in a "V" formation too. Mr. Yamato frowned. Dust devils didn't move in formation... something was wrong. One of the other Eurasians noticed the same thing and was just opening his mouth to say something when two beams flashed out of midair to rake across the bunker, melting deep scars into the roof and causing everyone to stumble back in shock.

"Invisible?" one of the cons cried. "Fucking invisible monsters? What the hell?"

"Mirage colloid!" Kuzzey shouted back. "It's like the Blitz had!" More beams lanced into the bunker. Several roof supports fell and Mr. Yamato could smell burning dirt. Plainly their cover was not going to last much longer.

"Everybody into the half track! We'll make a break for it!" he ordered. The two Eurasians and the older japanese man ignored him and sprinted for their lives. they were still framed in the doorway, quite visible to everyone when flame washed down like a waterfall, covering the area outside the bunker in a maelstrom of fire. Inside the bunker the heat was enough to bring blisters to the skin. Outside the bunker... Mr. Yamato gagged as his three squadmates turned to instant torches, skin and fat melting off bones, blood flashing to steam and bones charring to ash in less than two seconds. They couldn't even scream through seared lungs. The outlines of three mobile suits could be seen through the heat distortion of the flames, which were rapidly turning the area outside the bunker into a glass crater. Everyone else practically dived into the half track.

After waiting a minute for the mobile suits to move on, Mr. Haw gunned the engine and tore out of the bunker like a bat out of hell. Or more accurately a bat into hell. Because outside was a lot more hellish than inside. Fire raged everywhere. Smoke plumed milesinto the sky. There wasn't a bunker within view that wasn't covered in slag or just plain burst open. There were no bodies... no blood. Everything was burned through to the topsoil or below. Large sections of ground were melted as if exposed to a blast furnace. Nothing moved. Weapons fire still resounded from other parts of the base, but even that was starting to dwindle. Mr. Yamato made what is sometimes referred to as a command decision.

"Let's bug the fuck out of here." he swore. "Get us out of here, Mr. Haw. Anywhere but here. Out into the desert. We might be able to get out of this hopeless war if we can reach a neutral position."

"Like where?" Mr. Haw muttered, but that didn't stop him from pulling around in a sharp turn and heading out at max speed into the desert. Everyone looked behind them to see if they were being followed. They didn't see anything...


	40. To the Archangel

At long last they were headed for the Archangel. It wasn't like they had much of a choice, Kira reflected. If they wanted to be able to play a part in stopping the war from escalating any urther than it already had, they needed mobility and flexibility. And they simply could not support their new mobile suits out of Alkire's bunker-house. Most of the mobile suits may not have needed recharging, but there were dozens of things mobile suits required that Alkire simply could not provide... lubricants, coolants, ammunition, replacement parts, etc. And also, sooner or later they would have been tracked back there and then things would have been over.

The Earth Forces would have swarmed them... or maybe even nuked them, if Blue Cosmos had as much control as Kira feared it did. And so, by unanimous vote, they had decided to go find the Archangel, then go to the Kusanagi. A quick few calls by Cagalli had alerted Desert Dawn to their intentions, and she had recieved specific directions to find the hidden cavern-storage barn where the Archangel was concealed. The crew was also being gathered as they flew. Alkire had elected to come with them, as had the rest of TEMPEST. Kira was hardly surprised. The commando team seemed to have adopted Ysak as a sort of soon to be son in law, and the rest of them as good friends.

Still, he had some misgivings about having them along. Their philosophy's were sure to clash in the future, and Kira just didn't see any way he could bring Alkire, Raine and the others around to his way of thinking. Athrun would honor honor his wishes that people not be killed, as would Cagalli to the best of her ability. Dearka would try, especially if Miriallia urged him, and Ysak... well Ysak wouldn't care. But Ysak was somehow a different case than the TEMPEST members. Ysak didn't... enjoy combat like they did. Well... he enjoyed combat, but he didn't seek it out like Alkire and company did. Kira often felt that nothing else existed besides war in the minds of TEMPEST. When they weren't fighting they were preparing to fight. When they weren't preparing to fight, they were dreaming about fighting.

And they would use every underhanded trick in the book... plus a few they made up themselves... to win. Shooting people in the back, slitting their throats while they were asleep, leaving bombs, poisons... you name it, they'd use it someway to kill the "enemy". And they absolutely did not feel at all bad about it. Not guilty, not repentant, not sorry... if anything they felt good. Felt like they'd done their job. Kira just knew there would be a lot of conflicts between him and them. And between Lacus and them. And Lacus didn't need to be under any more stress than she already was, being worried about him going out to fight and stop battles like he was. Sure... he might very well be the best mobile suit pilot out there, but she would worry anyway.

Kira wouldn't have it any other way. It felt quite good to have someone worrying about him and to have someone to worry about in turn. Someone to protect. It made everything... more real. Personal. He could really put his heart and soul into getting this war stopped as quickly as possible so he could go back to being what he wanted. a normal kid, with a happy relationship with the people most important to him. Kira shook his head, dropping out of reverie to check his displays. Nothing showed besides the blips that represented Athrun flying ahead of him, Ysak to the left, Dearka right, Cagalli below and Alkire to the rear. Kira was flying at the top of the formation, above everyone else, so that if trouble did occur he was equidistant from them all and would be coming down in a dive, which would maximize the surprise to the enemy.

Thus far they had had to fly around two battle zones, but had encountered no other trouble. Kira wished he could have stepped in to both of those battles, because he surely would have been able to stop them quite cold... but if he had he would have exposed Lacus and everyone else in Alkire's jet to danger... and he just could not do that. He knew he couldn't always be concerned about Lacus's saftey or he'd start becoming a liability to the things he really wanted to do... stop the war, bring peace, etc. But until she was safe on the Archangel he'd be on tenterhooks. He knew it, he accepted it. It didn't make it any easier.

They were currently flying over the Indian Ocean, having just passed the western border of the Oceania Union a little less than an hour ago. That still put them at more than ten hours flight from the eastern shore of Africa, and a further four hours from there to the Archangel's location. Kira shifted uncomfortably. Mobile suits were not deisgned, for the most part, to be long range transports. Some exceptions did exist, like the recon Ginn he'd been forced to kill in the ruins of Junius Seven. But the Liberty and indeed all the other mobile suits piloted by his friends were not such an exception. The seat which was comfortable enough for a ten or even thirty minute battle was like a bed of iron nails after ten hours and the polymer straps which kept him in it were like bars of hot steel across his chest, even through his padded flight suit.

Also, the sanitary facilty was totally lacking... pilots were supposed to be empty before they sortied. And he only had three water bottles and a few tubes of yogurt to subsist on till next they landed... which would be on the African coast. Plainly put, it was not a fun experience. He'd tried to sleep but found he could not trust the autopilot. He knew it was perfectly safe... but that didn't stop him from scanning his scopes intently every five minutes or so, just to make sure nothing was going wrong. Nevermind that the LRR array on the Grand Buster had ten times the range of his sensors... he still couldn't help checking.

He couldn't even talk to Lacus, except over the open channel that everyone used. And simply put, most of the stuff he wanted to talk to her about really wasn't for public digestion. Some of it was about Alkrie and company, some about what they should be focusing on during the war... but most were more personal than that. He wanted to see what she thought about a few things which were bothering him, see her perspective on Athrun and Cagalli and even Dearka and Miriallia. She was so much better at the whole emotional thing than he was... he felt lost and confused by it all while she knew exactly how people were feeling. He also wanted her to sing him a song. One of the gentle ones, where her voice would flow like water running down a stream. That would put him to sleep like he needed to be.

He didn't mean that in a bad way, as though her songs bored him. Quite the opposite, they entranced him so much he totally blocked out the outside world and could really, totally relax. She sang him to sleep whenever he woke with nightmares... it worked like a charm... better than any medication. And if her songs could put him out when he was as keyed up as he was after a nightmare, then everyone else would probably go out too... and then the jet would crash and lots of other bad things would ensue. He envied Dearka and Miriallia their tandem cockpit, even though he knew Lacus would not voluntarily enter a mobile suit under any but the most dire of situations.

So it was that Kira tossed and turned and grouched and grew steadily more intolerant of everyone and everything around him. By the time they reached the African coast he was nearly to the point where he wanted to punch something. He hoped they didn't encounter any enemies on their way to the Archangel... it'd go rough for the foe if they did.


	41. The Parents

"Whats that?" Miriallia asked, rubbing groggily at her eyes. Even in the slightly more spacious cockpit of the Grand Buster, it had been a hell of a trip, with emphasis on hell. She loved Dearka. A lot. She thought he was very interesting, she loved his stories, his jokes, his tall tales. She even liked just looking at him when he wasn't looking back, just watching him work, flying the huge machine through the air. But after close to twenty four consecutive hours trapped in what amounted to a room four feet wide by eight feet long by five feet tall... she was ready to finish the job she'd almost stared all that time ago on the Archangel. It wasn't that he was intentionally annoying... on the contrary, his increasingly forced cheerfulness was all in an effort to make her feel better. But it was failing miserably.

Having an increasing negative effect actually. She was actually starting to get a handle on why Ysak detested Dearka at times... which was a breathtaking feat by any estimation, since Ysak's way of thinking was quite alien to her. Dearka had finally stopped babbling jokes and stories about a half hour ago, perhaps even wearing out his seemingly endless repetoire of amusment. She'd been so glad of the silence that she almost said something... but that would have started him off on a whole new track. So instead she'd dozed off... only to be rudely re-awoken by the buzzing and flashing of her radar scope.

"What's what?" Dearka asked back, jerking himself into a more wakeful state. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, wishing the enormous headache he had would go away. The fog slowly lifted from his mind... he'd been in a nearly trance like state for the past few hours, ever since the last rest break, which he hadn't really recovered from. He winced... he must have been babbling gibberish for the best part of four hours. He hoped he hadn't said anything too stupid, but he honestly could not recall much after taking off from the shoreline after a quick meal of warmed up noodles served from the mini kitchen on Alkire's jet. Even the incessant battles he'd been in during the latter part of the war hadn't worn him out this much. But it wasn't like a mobile suit was exactly designed for long range flights... that was what submarine carriers and land battleships and space cruisers were for... covering the vast distances between battles. The sooner they got to the Archangel the better. Even if not all his memories of that ship were entirely pleasant.

"I've got contacts on the LRR." Mir replied, reseating herself into a more upright position. She pulled one of the three keyboards available to her down onto her lap and started typing in commands. It had been an ordeal, getting used to all the new systems... at least at first. Now, after more than a week of practice and drill under Dearka's casually sarcastic and critical eyes, she'd found that it really wasn't that much different from what she'd done on the Archangel, if more involved. She was by no means a Coordinator... she couldn't type on two different boards while looking at a totally unrelated screen all at the same time like Dearka could... but she could cycle between keyboards and display screens fast enough so that he didn't get too far ahead of her. Quickly the LRR image resolved from a series of blips into more accurate sensor profiles, each with little tags displaying vector, size, heat levels and estimated configuration. "I make preliminary contact at eight military vehicles, half tracks likely, moving full speed across the desert towards us... current position twenty five miles ahead, along our path of flight."

Dearka was about to reply when her screen blinked again and a pop up window of the radar scope appeared. "More contacts, behind the half tracks, maybe a mile or two miles behind them at the most and closing rapidly. From their heat signatures they appear to be mobile suits... checking configurations... come on you stupid computer... four BuCue's and one unknown model. Bipedal, looks to be fast and maneuverable, likely some form of scout." Mir was proud of how calm her voice was... this looked like trouble if she ever saw it.

"How'd they get so close with that radar of yours going? Fall asleep at the switch or something?" Alkire asked as he veered his jet up and to the side, ready to get the heck out of any potential combat zone.

"They're on the ground, and the desert doesn't exactly help heat scanning, you know. This machine may have top of the line sensors, but flying at an altitude of five thousand feet doesn't exactly make it easy to use radar on ground targets. If they were birds I probably could have told you what species they were from a hundred miles away." Mir answered testily. Criticism from Dearka was okay... she was still touchy about other people ragging on her though.

"Hey, hey, just checking. Didn't mean nothing by it." Alkire said quickly, sharing a smile with Vlad. She was picking up professional pride quite rapidly... good for her. It would only enhance her performance if she felt like she had something to prove. "So what do we want to do? Just go around like the last two combat zones? It'll only add like thirty minutes to the flight."

"Bring 'em on... I need to break something." Ysak muttered irritably.

"Can you get any more information on the vehicles or mobile suits?" Kira asked.

"Hold on, Kira, I'll run a more detailed scan." Mir replied. With a minute of furious tapping she had uncovered a lot more data... and it was enough to get her back on the line to everyone else with urgency. "All right, we don't have much time... the vehicles are from the Earth Alliance... probably fleeing Gibraltar. The mobiles suits pursuing them are a recon patrol from ZAFT. The patrol is currently firing on the convoy... two of the trailing vehicles have been destroyed in just the last minute. In another five minutes the ZAFT patrol will catch up to the convoy and well... then there won't be a convoy. ZAFT does not seem interested in taking prisoners."

Kira, quite predictably, did not take too long to assimilate that data. "I'm going. It isn't right to shoot at defenseless fleeing enemies... especially without giving them a chance to surrender."

"It may not be right... but it's a lot safer than shooting at combat ready enemies..." Victor whispered to Alkire and Vlad, who both nodded agreement.

"Are you sure that is a good idea, kid?" Alkire asked. "I mean, no matter how good you are, they're going to get off communications when they see you. Then ZAFT is going to know we're all in the area... and they won't leave us alone. In fact I'd be really surprised if they didn't come out in force to greet us, if you know what I mean."

"We haven't done anything to get ZAFT angry with us!" Cagalli protested.

"We haven't done a whole hell of a lot to make them like us either." Athrun said quietly. "Given how all of us... most of us... have fought either directly or indirectly against ZAFT at some point in time... indeed are likely responsible for denying ZAFT ultimate victory during the last war... I don't expect to be greeted warmly."

"And Ysak and I are technically deserters now... given that we pretty much told ZAFT high command to shove it up a dark place when we deleted their return orders. I can't imagine they'll be willing to forgive and forget so soon." Dearka added.

"And then there is always me to consider... you'll all likely be shot on charges of association with a mass murderer the moment they find out who the hell I am." Vlad said, almost relishing his moroseness.

"I know all that." Kira said. "But I will not let those soldiers get killed. I swore I would do all I could to stop this war and I can hardly keep that promise by letting those soldiers die. The rest of you don't have to help... I really don't expect that level of resistance anyway."

"You know... if I hadn't reviewed your combat battle data... I'd say you were too cocky, kid." Alkire responded. He paused a moment. He had reviewed that data though. "See you soon. Try not to overwhelm them too badly." Kira waved an acknowledgement with the Liberty's arm and dropped into an spiralling dive that had him leveling out a bare hundred feet above the desert floor. Alkire winced at the gravity snap that pulled Kira out of the dive-roll-spiral... the kid must have pulled a good five G with that little stunt... and even strapped into a high stress capable cockpit... that wasn't something Alkire would have done so casually. Or at all... unless he was in life threatening danger. But therein lay the gulf between his piloting abailities and tolerances and Kira's. Alkire was about a good a pilot as a Natural could hope to be... but Kira was light years ahead of him.

Kira brought his displays up to full combat readiness, bringing his weapons online and his sensors to maximum efficiency. He typed in the command that activated the desert heat deflection controls for his beam weapons... he was forewarned this time, and he didn't really feel like reprogramming the OS during the middle of a battle again. He'd really been lucky those first few times... the Gundam had been enough of an unknown that the enemy had not been able to take full advantage of his split attention. If he'd had to do that during the latter half of the war he would probably be dead right now... blown apart by one of those three Earth Forces Gundams controlled by Blue Cosmos. He activated the Angel Halo in favor of charging the Gugnir cannon... better to focus on defense... he didn't need to get unlucky... very unlucky maybe... and get damaged during this time of need, with adequate repair facilities half a world away at the closest. Besides... even though he cautioned himself against overconfidence... he'd faced odds much, much greater than four BuCue's and one recon model before, and that was in the Freedom or the Strike... the Liberty was superior to both.

The convoy appeared on his threat display screen, he switched them from neutral yellow to friendly green, just so no accidents would occur. More yellow icons appeared, the mobile suits pursuing the convoy, which was still about two miles ahead, out of sight behind some dunes, though their dust trail was quite visible. Kira toggled them to red enemy icons, though he deeply regretted having to regard ZAFT as the enemy again. But they were the clear aggressors in this situation, and his goal in this conflict was to take down all agressors so that the peacable folks like Lacus and Cagalli could get the world to wake up and realize what a mistake they were making. He elected to use the beam sabers... that way there was much less chance of stray shots causing problems for the convoy. His jaw tightened as one of the green icons suddenly blinked off... destroyed by the mobile suits no doubt, who were by now almost caught up to the convoy. Kira kicked his afterburners just a little harder, squeezing that precious extra second or two out of them. He needed every little instant of time.

Mr. Yamato was just about ready to throw in the towel. Three days of non stop pursuit through the desert, driving in shifts, refueling on the move, brief instants of bowl clenching terror as one patrol after another of ZAFT forces caught up to them and destroyed the nearly regiment strong convoy of armored vehicles that had originally escaped from Gibraltar. He'd thought there was saftey in numbers... but he'd been wrong. Tanks and missile trucks were just too far outclassed by mobile suits... especially the invisible ones. He now hated mobile suits with all the passion a totally helpless ground pounder could... but he reserved a special amount of hatred for those damned invisible ones... until they vomited killing flame you'd never know they were right on top of you!

You had a slight chance if you heard their engine noise and could see the dust devils they kicked up, but that was very difficult when driving at max speed through the desert with no shocks... their half track threw up a small sandstorm of dust just by itself and the noise of its rapidly degenerating engine drowned out all sound quieter than bomb explosions from more than ten feet away. Add to that similar noises and dust clouds from the fighting vehicles all around them and you were lucky if you could see twenty feet in front of you and ten behind, and hear the person next to you scream in terror. He'd heard a lot of those screams over the last few days. Along with too many horrible death shrieks as people were blown apart, lacerated by shrapnel or had the skin melted off their bones.

This was the third patrol to come after them and their convoy had dwindled from more than fifty tanks, missile trucks, half tracks and jeeps to just two half tracks, one tank and five jeeps. Three of the jeeps had been destroyed in the last five minutes, and the tank was now last in line, turret pointing backward, gun pounding shot after desperate shot of 75mm armor piercing shells at the BuCue's that were steadily bounding closer through the dust cloud. They were barely a half mile back now. The tank fire had no discernable effect on the BuCue's... most of the shots missed and even the ones that hit did little more than dent and scratch the armor plating of the mobile suits. The same could not be said of the return fire, which was accurate and totally deadly. Twin greenish energy beams lanced out from the lead BuCue, one lasering into a jeep and turning the vehicle into an instant cloud of red hot debris, the other melting a deep runnel of molten slag through the engine compartment and turret of the tank, which slewed out of control and tipped on its side as it started to burn.

No one got out... all likely had been melted into their seats by the heat of the liquefying tank armor. Seconds later the tank shell pumped and bloated before bursting like a melon filled with high explosive as its shells cooked off and detonated. A small piece of white hot metal... a shard of a rivet or screw, laid Mr. Yamato's forehead open to the bone as it winged past. He sat down suddenly, too shocked to even yell. Mrs. Yamato saw the wound and immediately used some of their precious stock of bandages to bind it up. It wasn't serious by the standards of their current situation... but it was no minor cut either.

It was in this position, half lying down in the back of a run down half track, with perhaps three minutes left in his life by an optimistic estimation, being attended to by his wife while Mr. Haw drove for all he was worth and Mr. Argyle screamed for aid that would never arrive in time over the short range radio that Mr. Yamato saw the angel. He blinked. He'd had no idea Angels were so large. And so fast. And armored in metal with huge thrusters on the back and bristling with wicked looking weapons. But the golden glow was there... a halo of pure light. There was a flash of pinkish fire as the Angel-thing drew a blazing sword of power and sliced into the BuCue's. There was much rending of metal and shriek of protesting drive systems as the BuCue's tried to get out of the path of the avenging Angel... though it didn't seem like they had much success to Mr. Yamato's ears.

He struggled up to get a better view and gasped in numbed incomprehension. Three of the four BuCue's were now missing heads, forelimbs and gun turrets. The last was currently in the middle of twisting around to fire at the Angel... a mobile suit totally unfamiliar to Mr. Yamato, which changed position so smoothly and easily that it seemed it moved sideways in midair to dodge the beams of heat energy. It's retaliation was rapid and straight to the point, the BuCue was suddenly lying in two pieces, both sides spurting smoke and sparks from the bisecting cut.

Mr. Haw and the rest of the convoy swerved to stunned stops. Four mobile suits had been disabled or destroyed in less than ten seconds. It was like diving into a pool of ice water... they could barely deal with the shock of not being pursued. They should have kept going. The last remaining jeep suddenly disappeared in a crunch of twisting metal. The four people in it didn't even have time to yell... they had not seen their death coming. The people in the half tracks couldn't see it either... the Mirage Colloid technology was quite effective at hiding the Efreet from all forms of detection, visual senses included. The pilot was quite shaken at having his teammates so suddenly destroyed... though he was relieved and a little puzzled to hear that none had been killed, despite their mobile suits being trashed. He swiveled his back beam cannons to point at the unknown enemy mobile suit, which looked more than a bit like the Freedom, while his arm flame projectors each targeted one of the remaining half tracks.

He keyed his long range communications. "This is Shinn Askusa, leader of Team Askusa, in Efreet two four zero. My team has encountered and been attacked by an unknown mobile suit. Sending data file now..." his comm dissolved in static. He was being jammed. He narrowed his eyes and opened up on the enemy with his beam cannons. Whatever it was was clearly a top of the line model, custom built for its pilot. His Efreet was one of the newest PLANT models in existence and he was totally outclassed by the other. Even though he was invisible he couldn't get more than a slight advantage over the other, who moved so quickly and fluidly that his machine seemed to dance rather than fly.

Kira gritted his teeth in concentration. He couldn't see the enemy. His sensors could not see the enemy. Just about the only warning he had was gut instinct and the brief flicker of the Mirage Colloid particles parting before the beam shots as they left the cannon barrels of the enemy. Most people would have been dead already, defeated by an enemy they could not detect. If he hadn't had some experience fighting against its like during the last war, fighting against Nichole, he'd probably have already taken damage. And not only was the enemy invisible of course, but the pilot was pretty damned good too. And he knew how to fight to his own advantages. He was staying near the two half tracks, so close that Kira could not just saturate the area with weapons fire in hopes of disrupting the Colloid field.

Or maybe he could... he skipped the Liberty backward a few meters and disengaged the Angel Halo. Pausing only a quarter second to wish himself luck, Kira fired the Gugnir cannon. The cone shaped blast effect killed the half track's primitive guidance systems and they shut down in messes of sparks and cracked LCD's. He also half caught the enemy, enough to scramble it's Mirage Colloid and half disable it. But only half disable it... its beam cannons may have been off line, but it brought up both arms and slots in the palms irised open before belching sheets of blue and white hot flame. Almsot instantly the interior temperature of the cockpit climbed thirty degrees and kept going. Kira did his best to ignore it... he'd survived re-entry before, he could take this.

Shinn kept the heat on, quite literally, though his own internal temperature levels were starting to reach critical levels as well. He couldn't believe how much punishment the enemy suit was taking... he'd put enough plasma flame on it to melt a similar sized chunk of tempered titanium into a pool of slag. But no matter that, all he had to do was keep it in the fire for a little while longer and the pilot would have to succumb to heat injury... Shinn himself was feeling woozy and he was the one putting the flame on, not taking it. Incredibly the enemy turned more squarely to face him, it's shoulder mounted weapons coming into firing position and orienting on him.

Before Shinn could even curse they had both fired, disintegrating both arms of the Efreet and throwing him spinning through the air to crash and roll along the ground. Blood dripping from broken nose and split lip, Shinn tried to get the Efreet back on its feet. He didn't have a prayer. Before he got halfway up the hyper beam cannon weapons flashed again and atomized both legs below the knee, sending the Efreet toppling back onto its face, a helpless quadripalegic. Shinn winced and waited for the fiery flash that would likely spell the end for him. It never came. His screens went to static and he had several hours to brood on why he had survived in the oven hot cockpit before the ZAFT rescue team arrived to cut him out of the wrecked Efreet. He swore he'd get stronger. He wouldn't be so humiliated again. Not by a machine that reminded him so much of the one that had already cost him so much.


	42. Multiple Interventions

Kira walked the Liberty over to the two disabled half tracks, putting the air conditioners in the cockpit on overdrive, though they did little besides circulate the parched air. He was glad he'd been able to make the tricky shots when he had... another thirty seconds and he'd have fainted and probably would never have woken again. It hadn't been easy drawing a precise bead by manual targeting... but target lock sensors wouldn't work in that hellstorm of plasma fire. As things were the outside of the Liberty was scorched black... no damage had been done but the beautiful paint job was pretty much ruined. Nothing a few hours with a power scraper wouldn't cure but... Kira shook himself.

He had other concerns than cosmetic maintainence. He didn't dare crack the cockpit hatch... even though it was likely far cooler outside than inside the cockpit, givent the amount of red hot metal around the cockpit edges Kira didn't really feel like getting a few third degree burns getting out. He could wait for the metal to cool first. Now standing over the two half tracks he cast his sensors down and brought up the soldiers in his display, so he could see the people he had saved. His heart skipped more than a few beats when he saw who was in one of the half tracks... he practically had to remind himself to start his heart pumping again. Shakily he reached out a hand and activated the external microphone. "Mom? Dad?"

Mrs. Yamato jumped and tightened the bandage she was tying so hard the ex-con whos arm she was binding screamed in agony and passed out. She'd been resolutely trying to ignore the mobile suit which had saved them... it was clearly not an Earth Forces model since it had been ignoring all attempts at communication by Mr. Argyle. For all she knew it was more of a threat than the patrol. It was childish but she'd decided that maybe if she didn't look at it it would go away and leave them be in peace. But then she'd heard Kira's voice come out of the speakers. "Kira!"

"Kira!" Mr. Yamato cried, stupefied.

"Kira?" Mr. Haw looked dumbfounded, as did everyone else who knew who the hell that was. The people who did not know looked even more confused, but that was irrelevant to those who did know.

"What are you doing here?" all three Yamato's asked in unison. There was a short pause. Then everyone, all the soldiers, all of their friends, the Yamato's and Kira all started talking at once. Kira contacted the rest of his friends who were circling several miles away. To say that his news was a bombshell was more than a little understatement.

"Mom and Dad are here?" Miriallia whispered, totally disarmed. She'd thought her parents were back in Orb... they were too old for muster into the Orb military. "And Kuzzey and his family as well?"

"And Sai's parents too." Kira confirmed, voice unsteady.

"What are they doing here?" Cagalli asked venemously. She had strong suspicions about who it was that had betrayed her secrets to Blue Cosmos. "I thought the rich folks stayed out of the ground war in the Atlantic Federation."

"Why are you asking me? I don't know why anybody is where they are." Kira protested.

"You say there are other soldiers there?" Alkire asked.

"Yeah... about ten or so. They look pretty rough... beat up, tired... worn out." Kira replied.

"Come on back to us and lets get on our way." Alkire ordered. The line went dead silent.

"What?" Kira asked, shocked.

"I got a bad feeling about this... I know they're your folks and all... but don't go out amongst those soldiers. Lest you forget... as much as ZAFT doesn't like us... Blue Cosmos hates us a good deal more. And they're actively looking for us too. I wouldn't be at all surprised if some of those soldiers had heard of you. And it won't take long for them to put two and two together to get four. There aren't many mobile suit pilots around with specialty mobile suits that can wipe out a ZAFT team single handedly... and even fewer named Kira. I can barely imagine what your head is worth to Cervantes and Asmodeus." Alkire replied. "We can come back and pick them up after we get to the Archangel."

"You want me to abandon my parents and my friend's parents out in the desert... wounded, without means of transportation and with ZAFT likely on the way to finish them off as we speak?" Kira said, incredulous.

"I wouldn't say abandon... we will come back for them... but that's another good point... ZAFT is gonna be showing up here post haste. No need to provoke a firefight when we don't have too." Alkire continued.

"No." Kira replied. Alkire sighed. He knew that was going to happen. That was the problem when dealing with nonprofessional soldiers... they just couldn't make rational decisions.

"Land the jet." Lacus suggested from behind him. Alkire twisted around to look at her. He knew the kids all thought of her as a sort of de facto leader... but to him she was just a pretty Coordinator girl with a nice singing voice and a heap of good sense which she currently wasn't using.

"Pardon me, Miss Lacus... but I don't take orders from..." Alkire began. Lacus smiled disarmingly, stopping him in mid flow.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to be so imperious. Just wanted to point out that Kira is not going to listen to you. He probably wouldn't even listen to me if I told him to leave them. And Miriallia will no doubt convince Dearka to take her to her family within minutes. And Athrun and Cagalli will hardly leave without Kira. And if you think I'll leave without him then you have sadly underestimated my resolve." Lacus said with a brief smile that nevertheless sent a chill down Alkire's spine. This girl was steel... even though she didn't look it most of the time.

"I think you lose." Raine said from behind Lacus.

"Gee... thanks for the support, Raine. I hope you can see that this is going to be something everyone is going to end up regretting."

"Yes, I do realize that. But I don't see any way out of it either. And niether do you or you'd be flying away right now rather than circling in for a landing."

"Is that what I've been doing? Huh, guess I can't fool anyone anymore."

"Comes with being married."

"Oh... right, we're married... I keep forgetting." Alkire grimaced. For all his levity he was dreading what he just knew was going to happen. This would end in bloodshed before the next couple hours were up... maybe even within the hour. He shrugged. The kid had brought it on himself. They always needed the object lesson the first time. He hoped everyone would survive unscathed. He concentrated on bringing the plane down safely on the hard packed sand. Miriallia had convinced Dearka to take her to her parents, just as Lacus had predicted. Athrun and Cagalli quickly joined them, with Ysak bringing up the rear, escorting the plane.

By the time everyone had debarked from the plane the Liberty had cooled enough for Kira to get out. Lacus, Chanel and Katie were first off the plane, hurrying to their respective males. Alkire stopped the rest of TEMPEST at the door. "Gear up. Those soldiers are going to make a play. Raine, you find a nest and get sighted in on any leader looking types. James, you and Victor circle around and set up enfilade fire... if things turn ugly I want them pinned in crossfire. Vlad, you're on close range support... I need you within easy speaking distance in case they try to take me hostage. I'll be doing the negotiating... hopefully I can talk them out of whatever stupid plan they are doubtless hatching... though since they are likely Blue Cosmos indoctrinated I don't have much hope of that."

"Good idea." Raine replied.

"Aye." James and Victor nodded.

"Yes, sir, Major." Vlad answered, slipping into the back to look for desert camouflage clothing. Alkire strapped on his pistol, ballistic vest, combat knife and picked up his assualt rifle and checked the clip. Full. He set it to full automatic. If things did go south he'd be right in the thick of it... full auto death would be much more use at ranges of five meters or less than single shot or burst, especially against grouped enemies. Alkire jumped out of the jet and quick timed across the desert towards the slightly raised dune where the kids were noisily and tearfully reuniting with their families and friends.

Alkire smiled. He was glad the kids had saved their families... such wonders were all too rare during war... but he quickened his stride still more when he saw how all the other Earth Forces soldiers were grouped at the other half track, shooting suspicious glares at the parents and kids and muttering to each other. He did not look but knew that his teammates were spreading out around him and behind him... he barely managed to pick up Vlad sneaking past him, lepoard crawling like a madman. That he could move at such a speed while on hands and kness was amazing enough... that he could do it while remaining practically invisible and silent was almost disturbing.

"Glad we could make it in time to pull your fat out of the fire!" Alkire called as he came up behind the Earth Forces soldiers. He scanned them quickly. Kira was right... they were a rough looking bunch... but not because of the minor wounds or tiredness. More than half sported gang tattooes and the rest had the unmistakable edginess of cons, ex-cons or men who should have been cons. Plainly the conscription service hadn't been too discerning when selecting recruits. These men were desperate... strung out, tired, hungry, scared shitless... they would turn like a pack of rabid weasels on any show of weakness. And the sight of the kids greeting their parents had them all practically salivitating. Not only had most of them recognized various of the kids as being worth substantial amounts of hard cash if turned in dead or alive... but there were more than a few very good looking young girls over there. And these men had been without feminine company of any sort for quite a long time. In other words the situation was balanced on a grenade pin, just waiting to blow up.

"And who the feck are you?" one of the most hard bitten looking ones, a corporal by his ragged uniform, asked in a thick accent Alkire identified as being from some of the lower class districts of New New York city.

"I am Major Robert Jones, of the Earth Forces Special Operations Unit. EFSOU. I'm sure you've heard of it." Alkire said, not hesitating to drop his real name. These men would probably never be able to repeat it and all he had to do was keep them off balance for a few more minutes while TEMPEST got into position.

"What the feck is a major doing whay the feck out here?" the corporal wanted to know. His filthy name tag read Ronald.

"You don't have the clearance to know that. In fact, it'd probably be best if you forgot this whole thing. Mobile suits and everything." Alkire replied.

"Feck that!" the corporal half shouted. Athrun and Dearka and Ysak looked over at the men who were slowly surrounding Alkire. Their faces tightened. Alkire was glad some of the kids had some sense to maintain situational awareness. "What security level are you, major?"

"Why does that matter?" Alkire asked.

"Because I highly doubt that a mere major has the clearance to be running around with high profile targets liken them kids over dere." the corporal grinned raggedly. "I make them to be Kira Yamato... Lacus Clyne... Athrun Zala... Cagalli Yula Attha... and thems just the big money worth."

"Anyone ever tell you your english stinks worse than your breath?" Alkire asked pointedly. He knew it was coming. He tightened his grip on the rifle. "What of them?"

"Well... we aren't unreasonable folks major... we don't want no trouble. Especially not with you EFSOU motherfeckers. Mean bastards your kind are. How about we split the bounty with you? Maybe even split the girls? Plenty to go around and plenty fine too." Corporal Ronald said with a low cackle. His men surrussed agreement, starting to bring weapons up. Ronald started to draw a pistol and turn.

"How about I split your head instead?" Alkire said calmly. Ronald was just turning back in surprise when Alkire's first burst caught him in the upper chest and neck... blowing his head off in a cloud of bone and blood. The other soldiers may have been shitbags but they knew their way around dirty fights. Within a second everyone had a weapon out and was starting to aim it. Little good it did them. None of the ten soldiers who had been conspiring with Ronald got off a shot. Raine's first bullet blew one man's spine in half, her second took the top half of another's head off in a fountain of gore. Alkire dropped and rolled, hosing his rifle around until it clicked dry. Heavy machine gun and carbine fire filled the air above him, impacts punching men off their feet or boring red meaty holes straight through them and flinging them around in rags.

Vlad exploded from the sand practically at the feet of one man, tearing his leg off at the knee with one hand and smashing him hard against the side of the half track with the other. By the time Kira had finished opening his mouth to shout and Lacus to scream it was over. Ten soldiers were cut down and one was rapidly bleeding to death, held firmly against the side of the half track by Vlad. Blood soaked the sand, turning it into red mud around the second half track. Alkire wiped a trickle of flung red off his forehead with one gloved hand and stood up again. He was unharmed.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Kira raged, coming up behind Alkire. Alkire turned to talk to him and was unprepared for the fist that came out of nowhere and landed square on his chin, sending him staggering to the side. Damn, but the kid was stronger than he looked. Kira followed the sucker punch up with another that Alkire barely managed to take on his shoulder. Kira never landed a third punch, though he did attempt to. Vlad was on him in a flash, dropping the wounded soldier. Vlad didn't hurt him in any way... but he did lock both of Kira's arms behind him in such a way that if he were to try to free himself he'd only end up dislocating both shoulders at the very least. Holding both of Kira's wrists with one mechanical hand, Vlad wrapped his other arm around Kira's throat and applied very light pressure... just enough for Kira to realize that Vlad had him cold.

"I didn't save them so you could kill them!" Kira snarled. Alkire glared at him and wiped a thin trickle of blood from a cut lip off his chin.

"You didn't save them so they could kill you and your family either. Yet that was what they were planning." Alkire countered. "And they only got killed because they were going to attack you."

"But why did you have to kill them? Couldn't you have knocked them out?" Kira said, still extremely upset. Alkire looked around at the eleven soldiers and then back at Kira, eyebrow raised.

"What... me alone? You wanted I should go hand to hand with eleven armed soldiers and try to knock them out? Wake the fuck up, Kira. We're not in a mobile suit anymore... personal combat has different rules than mobile suit warfare. If I'd tried to do that it'd be them standing over our bloody corpses right now, while they took turns raping the girls and then killing them and then probably starving to death out here in the desert... if ZAFT didn't come and kill them first. Is that what you would have preferred? Huh?" Alkire walked up to where he was only inches from Kira. "You don't have to like. You don't have to like me. But you do have to accept reality. If we hadn't killed these men you'd all be dead now. Or wishing you were. And ALL of this could have been prevented if you'd only stayed in your DAMN mobile suit like I told you to! I knew this was going to happen... it's like has happened to me before. But did you choose to listen to the people with the practical experience? NO! You had to decide that you knew best. That's your problem, Kira. And the rest of your problems too!" Alkire swept an angry gesture at Lacus, Athrun, Cagalli, Ysak, Dearka and Miriallia.

"You all think you know whats best for the world! That your way is necessarily right just because it is just and good and reasonable. Well, the world isn't always or even frequently JUST or GOOD or especially REASONABLE... if it were we would not be here right now. Now, don't get me wrong... i fully support your views and I'll do whatever is necessary to end this war we're in... but I'm only here because your way is the best out of a lot of bad choices. Forcing the world to accept pacifism in one giant leap is NUTS! Totally insane with almost zero chance of success. But almost zero is better than just diving back into a war that will do nothing but escalate and escalate until the world goes bye bye in a big nuclear flash." Alkire was panting with emotion. Kira glared at him stone faced.

"I can see you need a reality check. Here... I know just the thing." Alkire walked over to the leg amputated soldier. He nudged the stump with his toe and the man came fully awake, yelling and screaming most horribly. "Why don't you tell them what you were planning on doing, soldier?"

"P-please... help me..." the man gasped. Alkire drew out his pistol and racked the slide.

"I'll end the pain... just tell them what you were going to do."

"W-we recognized the pilot from the wanted posters. And Ronald knew his friends... aghhh!... knew them too. We were gonna shoot you all down... Ronald said they'd pay just as much if not more for bodies. Ughh! God DAMN it HURTS! Then we was gonna split the girls who were still alive... maybe the dead ones too... some guys were pretty... agh... pretty desperate. Not me. I wanted... I wanted the pink one. The one with the beautiful voice to scream for me in a beautiful way. We were just about to start shooting when the bastard major here.. gahhh!... bastard major and his friends had to go and kill us all... god damn you." the soldier hissed and spat.

"From the mouth of the beast." Alkire declared triumphantly. He tossed the handgun at Kira's feet, Vlad released him from the arm and throat lock. "This man is going to bleed to death in horrible agony over the course of the next five minutes. All you have to do to save him the pain is shoot him right in the head. He wants you to. He knows his wound is too severe to fix. He is bleeding internally as well... he'd live if we got him to intensive care within the next ten minutes... but that's going to be pretty difficult."

"You said you'd... ergg... end the pain." the soldier accused.

"I lied. Shit happens. Sucks, doesn't it? Besides, the kid can pull the trigger just as well as I."

"You can't force Kira to shoot him!" Lacus cried, horrified.

"I'm not forcing him to do anything. I'm just as cool sitting here with him and watching the sorry bastard bleed out."

"Kira isn't responsible for what you caused." Athrun said coldly.

"He is responsible. He could have avoided all of this had he followed orders. I'm not going to let him hide from that and niether should you. You could always be a pal and shoulder the burden for him... it's only a single trigger pull."

"That's monstrous." Miriallia said tightly.

"That's life." Victor said flatly from beside her. "Sometimes we make bad choices. And we have to accept responsibility for them. Kira's done it before, I can see the mark of the hard choices on him. And in perspective... its a mercy... I'd take the pistol over a slow agony of bleeding to death."

"But Kira swore he'd never kill anyone ever again!" Lacus protested, in tears.

"He's never kept that promise. Oh, he may not have directly killed anyone... but his interventions probably caused a great deal of death and suffering, indirectly. Just by being alive and refusing to kill people are dying because of him. Like these soldiers. Their lives were taken by him as surely as this ones life will be if anyone gets around to pulling that trigger."

"It's not like that." Kira refuted.

"Deny it. Deal with it like you want. Doesn't matter to me. I'm fine with being a merciless bastard when I have to be. Are you?" Alkre spat back. He turned on his heel and started back towards the plane. Before he'd gone three steps a gunshot rang out. He turned back. Mr. Yamato stood over the dead soldier, gun in one hand.

"I don't know what the fuck that was all about... but I'll be damned if I let my son be forced to violate a promise he so obviously holds dear." Mr. Yamato said viciously.

Alkire nodded a brief salute. "I'm glad someone was man enough to take the responsibilty." He turned back and headed towards the jet again. "Come on, y'all. ZAFT's going to be showing up here in less than an hour or I don't know jack about their scouting protocols. Best we be far away from here by then... and my jet's the only bus leaving this stop until then. You can always try and ride a mobile suit... but they're uncomfortable enough just for the pilots."

After a brief hesitation the adults followed him, with the pilots heading reluctantly back to their machines. Alkire supressed a shiver. He hoped he hadn't irrecoverably damaged his relationship with Kira... but that was unlikely. The kid was just so inflexible on his definition of right and wrong. Alkire didn't blame him though... in fact he admired that conviction. He wished he could see the world so black and white. With any luck at all and probably a great deal of assistance from his friends, Kira would be able to put aside the moral debate when the chips next came down... if not they'd all probably get killed. Alkire didn't even know a fourth of what Kira and company had been through during the last war... but even still he knew that the crap that was coming up made even the most desperate battle of last war look like a picnic.


	43. Quick Recollections

Miriallia had elected to spend the rest of the flight on the jet with her parents. Dearka hadn't even questioned her decision for a moment... in fact she had gotten the distinct impression he would have told her to go with her parents even if she hadn't wanted to herself. There wasn't much familial love in Dearka's life... his parents were distant to say the least. And as a result of that he valued the love and company of parents more than anyone who actually lived with them could. It wasn't something he let everyone in on... even Ysak may have only suspected, not known for sure, and that was okay since Ysak would never bring it up anyway. But Miriallia knew. To Dearka parents who loved you were one of the greatest treasures in the world... one of the things he really, actually wanted. So the idea of her staying with him in the cramped cockpit of the Grand Buster was practically horrifying to him, when she could instead ride with her long seperated parents, who had been saved from near death not so long ago. She'd have to find some way to thank him later... when everything wasn't so confused and hectic.

The jet bobbed and rocked as it lifted off from the desert sand. Miriallia gulped... but her nausea was not due to flight jitters... the ride in the Grand Buster was far rougher. She still couldn't get the image of the Earth Forces soldiers getting slaughtered by TEMPEST out of her head. She'd been living with these people for months know and it really hadn't hit home to her until just then what they did for a living. Even on that terrifying train ride out of the Orb hanger where the mobile suits were made hadn't affected her much... she'd been crouched in the forwardmost car, while TEMPEST had been at the rear, doing fighting of some sort she had known, from the gunfire and even small explosions... but she hadn't seen anyone get killed.

Not like those men just now. Eleven armed and dangerous men, some with weapons already to hand and the intent to use them already in their minds. And none of them had even managed to pull a single trigger before being taken down with mind numbing violence. Mir had seen plenty of death during the war... ZAFT pilots got killed all around them aboard the Archangel... Tolle of course... other crewmen from battle damage... entire enemy crews of other warships... but she hadn't seen anyone get blown apart by machine gun fire or have their leg ripped bodily off by brute strength. The deaths before had been bloodless and more a distant fact than a harsh reality. Even when they'd been fighting Frost and Dearka had shot him it hadn't seemed as real as now... probably because Frost didn't fall down dead like a reasonable being would.

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and Mir snapped back to the here and now. Her father was leaning over her, a concerned look in his eyes. Mir's heart went out to him like it rarely had done before... she hadn't seen her parents often since the start of the last war and while she hadn't felt as homesick as she'd feared... it was nice not having parents nagging you... she'd still missed them. And now she had found out she might have been missing them permanently if not for some almost cosmic lucky chance. and to top it all off they were in tough shape... each with several minor wounds, caked with dust and grime and sweat and blood... sunburned, half starved, parched with thirst, emotionally wrung out... they looked like disaster victims, huddled in their seats. But her father still had the presence of mind and caring to try and comfort her, even though he didn't know what was wrong. It brought tears to her eyes.

"Now dear... don't cry." her father whispered. "We're all okay. Alive and... well, not well... but alive."

"Yeah... that we are." Mir replied. She wiped the tears away with one hand and straightened up, looking around the cabin. Alkire and Vladimir were up in the cockpit again, flying the plane. Raine had gathered Victor, James, Chanel and Katie off into their own little group to give everyone some privacy. Lacus was sitting with the Yamato's, filling them in as best she could on their adopted son and the things that had been happening since last they saw him. The Buskirks were sitting with the Argyles on the far side of the cabin... Mir didn't blame them... of all the people on the jet she was the one they knew the best and she had her own family to worry about. And Kuzzey had never been too keen on the whole Coordinator thing, and she couldn't imagine his parents were either, and there was Lacus, sitting right there, glorious pink hair and unimaginable voice plain for all to see. The Argyle's were unknown to her... she'd never been over to Sai's house much... it was mostly he that came to them. She had secretly thought them snobbish back on Heliopolis... but she wasn't so sure of that now. right now they just looked dead tired and suspicious of everyone. "I suppose you have lots of questions for me?"

"You were never so good at understatments before." her mom smiled. "You must have learned from someone." she paused a few moments. "Well... get on with it."

"With what?"

"All of it, dear. Everything since Orb." her father replied tiredly.

"I've talked to you since Orb."

"I can barely remember my own name, honey. Just make it easy for us, would you? Summarize. Small words, we can't take any bombshells." her father requested. Mir frowned.

"No bombshells... pretty much means nothing happened without those." Mir replied. Her parents just stared at her. "Fine... but don't say I didn't warn you." Mir gave them the short version. She was still talking more than an hour later. She'd told them about the months up in space on the Archangel... the school in Switzerland... living in a hidden house in Hawaii... sneaking into Orb. She filled them in on Alkire and Raine and the rest of TEMPEST, on Chanel and Katie and Athrun and Cagalli and Ysak. She told them about how Sai had gone missing. The Argyle's had shifted a bit at that but had remained stony silent afterwards. She'd continued on with stories about all the stuff she had done, school projects, fun nights out, making friends with Cagalli and Lacus and Chanel and Katie. She talked a lot about Kira. Then she had moved on to the less pleasant things. Blue Cosmos for one.

That led to the man known as Cervantes Zunnichi. Asmodeus and Ray Sark. The tall girl, Amy Sihov. Murrue Ramius. All of the fights and terror and heartbreak her friends had encountered. Frost. Frost she spent only the briefest of times on... she was doing her best to pretend he did not exist. She eventually worked her way to the events that occured after sneaking into Orb... freeing Kisaka, finding the mobile suits, fighting their way clear. And she did it all without even casually mentioning Dearka in any way. She wasn't sure how she was going to broach that issue with her parents. Tolle and her had just... happened. Everyone had just sort of accepted that they were together and her parents had never protested. But Dearka was a lot more to her than Tolle had been... by virtue of the fact that he was alive if nothing else, though there was much else.

So now she had wound down and was struggling to think of something else to say. Her parent's solved both dilemma's for her with one stroke. "So what about the guy you haven't told us about?" her father asked suddenly.

"What?" Mir gaped, off guard.

"You told us about everyone on the plane, the guy in the red mobile suit, the guy in the blue mobile suit, Kira... but you haven't said a word about the guy in the green and tan mobile suit that you were riding in when you first showed up." Her mother replied. "In fact you left him quite carefully out of everything you said... did not even mention his name."

"H-how did... how did you...?"

"We're you're parents, dear. And the brief stint on the battlefield has done wonders to sharpen our senses... both of the ordinary and emotional variety." her farther said with a smile. "You kept staring off in the distance whenever you omitted his name. You looked quite wistful, I must say. He must be someone important."

"W-well..." Mir couldn't help the flush on her cheeks. Her mother actually smirked at her.

"He's your boyfriend. There, its out in the open. Now tell us about him." her mother said casually.

"Uhh..."

"Start with his name." her father urged.

"H-his name... his name is Dearka. Dearka Elsman."

"Never heard of him." her father joked with a broad grin. "Go on."

"Weelll... I don't really know what to say... I mean... we've been a couple for... months now. Been going out since Switzerland... though we haven't had time for many real dates... constantly on the run and all that."

"Oh come on, dear, we aren't going to tear your head off. If you've been together for as long as all that then he's surely a good enough guy. And I don't know about dates... but Swiss vacations... hidden Hawaiin jungle houses... posh Orb hotels and hot springs resorts... sounds like you've been on one big date." her mother put in. "How long have you known him?' she asked.

"I met him during the last war, actually."

"Really? When did you meet? He a crewman on the Archangel or something? I didn't recall seeing him when we got to meet you."

"After that actually... after we got attacked again after leaving Orb waters. See... he was... is... one of the pilots of the mobile suits that had been trying to kill us since Heliopolis. We shot him down in the battle where Tolle died. He was a prisoner on board for the next couple weeks. Then when we left the Earth Alliance after Alaska he sort of joined up with us along with Athrun to help defend Orb's mass driver. We just sort of drifted together during the last bit of the war. I initially thought he was a jackass, especially after a few hurtful comments he made... comments he had no idea he was making. But he really impressed me with his desire to make amends. and... well, he got injured in the last battle at Jachin Due and I helped treat his wounds and... things went on from there." Mir paused a couple breaths and looked her parents in the eyes. They looked back.

"So he's... a Coordinator?" her mother asked tenatively.

"Yes. A second generation Coordinator. His parents are on the PLANT Supreme council... but they're an estranged family... they didn't agree with him joining the military."

"A sentiment I can get behind." her father said. "I wasn't exactly pleased when you joined up either." He chewed his lip. "So now we have a Coordinator in the family... huh."

"What do you mean by that?" Mir asked, on guard suddenly. Her parent's were insinuating something, she knew it. Her eyes widened. 'Now hold on a minute. We have done nothing like that! Dearka is the perfect knight... I set the rules and he follows them, even though he doesn't want to. We may have slept in the same bed... because of conditions unavoidable at the time... but..."

"Hush dear... that wasn't what we were insinuating... but thanks for the info. Rather, we were trying to tell you that if you found him acceptable then we found him acceptable. Sorry if our message didn't get through... we're a little out of it. We can't wait to meet him. But for right now... I think your father and I need to get some rest... and so do you... you look bone weary. It must not have been an easy flight in that mobile suit." her mother replied. Before Mir could reply both her parents had closed their eyes and dropped off. She smiled, shaking her head. They had stayed up intentionally just to get the juicy details out of her... now they were out like lights. Mir looked around. The Argyle's, Buskirk's and Yamato's were also out cold. Lacus was talking with Raine and the others quite animatedly... she was still plainly upset about what had happened between Alkire and Kira... Mir didn't blame her but couldn't really muster the energy to get up either. Her mom had been right... the mobile suit flight had been arduous and the seat was so comfortable. Before she knew it, Miriallia had drifted off into slumber as well.


	44. Commander Randolf

Commander Randolf smiled behind the lenses of the macro-binoculars. There they were... flying like a row of ducklings exactly along the flight path he'd extrapolated from the reports of the scout unit. His smile quickly changed to a scowl. Like he didn't have enough problems already, restoring the Gibraltar base to ZAFT control. It had been a day and a half since the end of the last bit of Earth Alliance resistance had been snuffed out of the mediterrainean base... and they still hadn't managed to get reliable communications channels opened up. Solar radiation and magnetic solar storms... nothing could be done but wait it out, of course. Randolf would have given all his new mobile suits for a platoon of Ginn trainers if they could have had reliable comms... but sadly that option was denied to him. And then of course there had to come the report of one of the scouting teams, deployed to sweep the desert for any of the most of a division of Earth Forces troops that had fled from the battle. Randolf chuckled grimly... the Earth Alliance troops were getting crappier and crappier... not that he minded... maybe this war would go the way it was supposed to this time.

Though there were several large impediments to that eventuality... a good many of them flying about three kilometers away, heading at a slight oblique over his camouflaged troops. They hadn't shown any sign of detecting the fifty mobile suits that lay under hasty but efficient coverings of camo-tarps, sand and heat masking nets. Randolf may not have been a commander of the fame and reputation of Andrew Waltfeld, the last ZAFT man to command troops in this area... but he'd been stationed in the Gobi desert of China all last war... he knew his way around the sand like a native. His troops were also veterans, for the most part.

Upon recieving the call for aid he'd left his XO in command of the base rebuilding along with most of the green troops and took the men he knew to be good in a fight with him to investigate. He'd thought he was being overcautious at first but upon learning that the enemy was a Gundam of similar capabilities to the Freedom and that there were multiple models as well, he'd begun thinking maybe he hadn't brought enough troops. But sending green soldiers against pilots of the caliber that likely flew in the machines now passing by overhead would be just a waste of men and material... feeding bodies into a wood chipper.

"I wonder where they are going?" Mike Juarez, one of the four elite pilots that made up his team and the closest thing Commander Aireg Randolf had to a best friend, said from underneath his own camo-covering, right next to Randolf on the top of the dune that concealed both their Grendel's. "And why is a private passenger jet flying with them?"

"Might as well also wonder why they stopped to wipe out a scout team to save two half tracks half filled with deserters, without killing a single one of our soldiers but having time to massacre eleven of their own." Randolf grunted back. Mike shifted uncomfortably under his sand blanket. What they had found at the battle sight had been disturbing, to say the least. Not worst were the four BuCue's and single Efreet lying in wrecked heaps all over. No... the worst was the mangled and shot torn bodies of the Earth Alliance soldiers, lying in a relatively neat circle on top of a sand dune, right next to the two broken down half tracks. None of the dead men had even managed to fire a single shot against whoever killed them... their weapons were all full. Though how they allowed themselves to be executed without firing a shot when armed made no sense.

The very worst had been the man with the ripped off leg and the bullet between his eyes... the man hadn't bled much from the head shot because he'd already spilled most of it onto the sand from his leg... whoever had killed him had tortured him by letting him bleed out before finishing the job. He may have been an enemy but Mike still felt a shiver of sympathy... not a nice way to go. And whoever did it could not have been pleasant either. The leg looked like it had been twisted off... not blown off or cut off. The being who had the strength to twist a full grown man's leg off in a single pull Mike did not want to meet.

"So what is the plan then, Commander?"

"We'll wait until they get out of sight and then follow them. They have to be near the end of their journey... that jet could not have taken off anywere nearby and the nearest fuel stores are Gibraltar, which we control and... basically nowhere else in Africa, currently. So they must have come from off continent... no jet that small can carry enough fuel for more than a few more hours flight at most... probably less than two hours. If we can capture those mobile suits it will be a huge boost to morale and we'll net a stupendous media coup as well, with some super special mobile suits of our own to counter those damned Earth Forces things. Or whatever. I still think the troops in Washington may have just come across some heavier than expected resistance and the higher ups used the excuse to fund new mobile suit production."

"Must have been pretty heavy to wipe out a twelth of the force in ten minutes, sir." Mike commented. Randolf grunted noncommitally. Mike shurgged. The boss was the boss... a smart tactical commander, a good leader, and excellent pilot... but gruff and stubborn and stuck in his ways. That's how he was. And so far it hadn't steered him or Mike wrong, so Mike couldn't really complain, could he?

"Suit up... we've given them enough of a lead." Randolf ordered about ten minutes later. Within five more minutes five Grendels, five Efreet, 20 BuCue's and 20 Ginn Ocher's were powered up and moving out in orderly teams. The might of ZAFT in full display, marching forward to the unknown in thunderous mechanical strides. randolf checked his long range comms once again... nothing but static, cut through by an echo or snap of dead silence every few seconds. Comms was still down, damn it. They'd be going in unsupported. "This is Commander Randolf. Uploading our present location and projected course now. We are in pursuit of one civilian jet and five unknown Gundams... one is reported to be similar to the Freedom. Please send reinforcements as quickly as possible. Randolf out."

------------------------------------

Back in Gibraltar the Commander's voice was coming in loud and clear. His data stream was reading just fine... though it took a little wiping to clean the blood and brain fluid off the screen so Frost could read it. He stood alone in the command tower that formerly controlled all the mobile suit and aircraft operations on the base. Well... the tower could still be used for that purpose, once it was cleaned out and mopped down... the bodies charnel stench in the desert heat was beginning to annoy even him. But no one would be cleaning up here, Asmodeus had made that clear to him and the other two BCPU's. There was a reason the Alliance had not made any serious effort to defend Gibraltar.

If they'd had time they would likely have built a Cyclops system under the base... but such things required years of time, which they did not have. Instead they had merely allowed the base to be taken... ensuring heavy damage to the base defenses and sensor gear... heavy enough that when the three BCPU's were dropped from high altitude carriers they were not detected until they were almost within sight of the base itself and that even after they were detected there was such feeble defensive fire that it might as well not have existed at all.

Gibraltar was one big trap. The Alliance had been careful to leave it exactly like they found it at the end of the last war... but they'd taken pains to map out all the fire lanes and building locations and ammo dumps and bunkers in the base. So that when the BCPU's attacked they knew precisely where ZAFT had likely set up its command posts and comm centers and were as such able to take the head off the beast with surgical precision. It had taken maybe ten minutes to kill off the entire chain of command above the individual team leader level. The rest of the battle had been hunt and kill mop up... Frost's favorite sport. The enemy were so helpless too... green troops, fresh out of the academies, still amazed at their own mobile suits power... unable to comprehend the scope of their opponents superiority.

Calling it a massacre would have been like calling a fire in a munitions factory a hazard... it slightly demeaned the word with its understatement. Frost had eventually taken to leaving the Fury parked while he hunted the technicians and other troops personally... but that had offered scarely little more pleasure. The soldiers screamed and died. Even toying with them wasn't so fun. Not when the images of his real enemies... the ones he really wanted to kill, mocked him from inside his head. Pink Lacus. Her buggy boyfriend Yamato. The brown haired aviator chick. Golden boy, the one who couldn't take a knife to the chest. The princess of Orb. Those were the ones he wanted... the ones that got away.

Frost brought his communicator up to his lips. "You guys are gonna love this. Guess who I found? And they're only a few hours away, if we push it."

--------------------------

Alkire finally, at long last, spotted the great crested dune that marked the location of the assault warship Archangel. To his trained eye, used to looking for concealed buildings or traps it was painfully obvious... a great dome hump of sand where no dune of any similar size existed for several kilometers. Camouflaged well enough from the ground most certainly, but if you knew there was supposed to be a ship there it was pretty obivous where it was. That was what showed the difference between professional special forces soldiers like himself and skilled amateur resistance fighters like Desert Dawn. If he'd been in charge of the camo job you'd be able to rest your hand on the side of the ship without realizing it for what it was, even if you knew it was right there. It also probably would have taken about three months of time and a little under two millions dollars to do... so he supposed Desert Dawn had done a bang up job in three weeks and with a totally volunteer budget.

"There it is." Dearka said a few seconds later, his finely attuned vari-camera sensors having detected the bulk and magnetic signature of the ship now that they were within a kilometer or so. "Looks like the crew is aboard though the ship is not powered up yet... I can make out heat signatures about where the bridge should be."

"Remind me to talk to the Simmons woman about upgrading our own sensor package... able to see heat signatures through sand and heat masking tarp at a range of a half klick..." Vlad muttered, shaking his head in wonder.

"They haven't opened communications yet..." Kira said, obviously a little puzzled.

"Still verifying us, no doubt. They want to make sure everything is still kosher... we are nearly three hours late and with no calls home to momma and dad." Alkire replied.

"Uh oh. Maybe something else is causing the holdup." Dearka suddenly cut into the channel. "I've got blips on the LRR. Lots of blips."

A shiver ran down Alkire's spine. He knew it was going too smoothly. "Blips doesn't quite do it for me, Dearka. Why don't you coordinate with your lovely CIC commander and get us some details?" Alkire ordered. He shut off the mic for a second. "Huh... coordinate... I made a funny." he muttered to Vlad, who managed a weak smile. "Here... I'll put her on." Vlad stood up and returned less than a minute later with a yawning Miriallia, plainly woken from her slumber in the back.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Call for you. We need an expert opinion." Alkire said neutrally as he handed her the mic. Miriallia listened for a few seconds.

"Okay, now pull up the second command sub menu... hit "a". Now "o". Now macro four. There. No, tell it to Alkire... He's in charge right now." Mir said. Alkire raised an eyebrow at Vlad. Alkire was in charge, was he? Wonder what Kira and Athrun and Lacus and Cagalli would say to that... but now wasn't the time.

"Vlad, get on the horn to everyone else and tell them we got company incoming. And company out here means the bad guys." Alkire ordered. He picked up the mic again. "Details." he commanded.

"Mobile suits. ZAFT. Twenty BuCues, twenty Ginn Ochers, five of the ones that can turn invisible and five new types... look like upgraded ZuOots... those are the heavy weapon platforms if you didn't know. They're coming up fast... they'll be here within twenty minutes at their current pace." Dearka reported, starting to bring his weapons online as he spoke. He had the feeling he'd be needing them sooner rather than later.

"I know what a ZuOot is. Upgrades of an unknown type you say? Great. Just what we need. More unknowns."

"I'm running almost dry on power." Cagalli reported after being alerted by Vlad. Alkire sighed. He wasn't used to being responsible for so many people, especially so many mobile suits. The damn things were finicky as hell... no wonder the big ships had so many mechanics for them. Unlike a soldier, who was ready for combat as long as he was alive and awake... mobile suits needed power ups and reloads and maintainence... the sand hadn't helped there... all sorts of things he was used to regulating to downtime.

"Can you recharge?" Alkire asked.

"We can give it a shot... can't garuantee full power restoration but I can get her up partway." Athrun replied. The Rubicon and the Righteous descended together, linking hands like their pilots might do on a date... though the power connecters in each hand would make a similar dating gesture require joy buzzers of extraordinary power.

"So what's the plan?" Raine asked, coming forward after making sure everyone else aboard the jet was awake and at least marginally informed as to what was going on.

"I was thinking of setting down and letting everyone get off... come to think of it I really hadn't had many plans for what to do with my jet once we got here... guess I figured I'd just gas her up and fly her back alongside the Archangel... we can't park it inside, the hanger isn't designed for the wingspan this bird has. But the warship isn't even powered up yet... theres no way to refuel in time and we've got barely thirty minutes flight left in us. And if I land we won't be taking off again... not for very long before we meet the ground again in a very flashy manner." Alkire responded. Raine considered that.

"Yes... that's probably best. Besides... we can't hope to have all mobile suit pilots be as inept as the ones back in Switzerland... the Coordinators stand a much better chance of shooting us down even with our special electronics than the Earth Forces ever did." Raine replied.

"Guess it's time to be a maniac again." Alkire whispered to himself. Before he could get on the intercomm though someone else pushed into the cockpit.

"I need to speak to Kira." Lacus said determinedly. Alkire noted she wasn't quite speaking or looking at him. He winced. So much for forgive and forget. Plainly he'd deeply offended some people's sensibilities.

"Phone's all yours, princess." Alkire said, handing her the mic.

"My name is Lacus." she reminded him coolly. He winced again. Yeah... he'd be in their doghouse for a while. "Hello, Kira. Yes... you know why I'm calling. Please pick me up once we land. Maybe we can head this confrontation off so no violence will be required." Lacus thumbed off the mic and handed it back. "Please land quickly."

"Aye aye." Alkire muttered, sketching a salute she didn't see as she turned and headed back into the passenger cabin. Alkire waited for the door to shut and a few more seconds besides... Coordinator hearing was very sharp... before murmuring "Bitch." under his breath.

"Better keep that to yourself." Vlad noted.

"Thanks... I was going to go call Kira up and tell him too, but now I won't because it's OBVIOUSLY a bad idea." Alkire retorted sarcasticly. Vlad held up his hands placatingly. Alkire started spiralling the jet down for a landing.

"You aren't feeling guilty about killing those soldiers, are you?" Vlad asked a few moments later.

"No... I'm fucking not. Despite their best efforts, I'm fucking not. If we hadn't acted and done what had to be done they'd all be lying in their guts out in the sand, instead of the bad guys. I don't mean to be rude Vlad... but shut the hell up, okay? I'm not in the mood right now."

"You are feeling guilty then." Vlad noted, before swinging back to his own work. Alkire did not reply. Within a minute they were on the ground and taxied to a stop. Within seconds of the passenger door opening Lacus was out and racing across the sand towards the monolithic figure of the Liberty, which had descended earlier. If nothing else, Alkire had to admire her dedication... she was wasting absolutely zero time in order to try and bring the confrontation... for that was what was brewing... to a peaceful solution. Alkire wished her the best of luck. And then went to go make sure his weapons were primed and good to go. For all the good that would do him against fifty mobile suits.


	45. Desert Catastrophe

"We've got a bogey incoming, Commander." Mike reported. "Its a mobile suit... unknown configuration. But it visually matches the one that the scout leader said attacked his team."

"Everybody spread out... if it is in the same capability class as the Freedom then we need to get as far away from each other as possible or he can wipe us out with just a few concentrated volleys. That thing was too heavily armed." Randolf ordered. Immediately his troops widened their formation, and brought their weapons to ready status. They would not let a single mobile suit... no matter how powerful... get past them. Randolf activated his own weapons, and he dropped the Grendel out of the loping gorilla kunckle walk. The big cannons would only drain his power batteries against the foe they were facing now... he'd seen reports on the agility of the Freedom and this was apparently an upgraded model... his big guns would only melt sand. "Hidetata team, go MC." he ordered. The Efreet unit vanished from view and sensors. "Boslvoy and Ragnar teams orient all weapons on the target. Everyone else be ready for targets of opportunity... there's more than one enemy and we don't need to get flanked."

"The enemy is slowing... we're being hailed over the international channel." Mike cut in. A moment later he had patched Randolf in to the comm line.

"This is Kira Yamato, in the Liberty. Calling the commander of the ZAFT forces. Can you hear me? I want to talk. Please respond."

"Who the hell is Kira Yamato?" Randolf asked.

"Beats the hell out of me, sir. Notice he gave no military rank... I wonder which side he is on."

"Not ours, if the scout team is anything to judge by. Fine, I'll humor him. Gives us more time to get a target lock. How's that going by the way?" Randolf replied.

"Difficult, sir. His sensor jamming and stealth systems are quite good... better than anything I've ever seen. The computers just about refuse to give me a solid lock for more than a quarter second. And he's not even maneuvering yet. Lets let him get closer."

"This is Commander Aireg Randolf, commanding officer of Gibraltar base and officer in charge of the North African Theater. Who are you and what do you want?" Randolf replied on the open channel. He was caught off guard by the reply.

"Commander Randolf?" an achingly familiar female voice answered him a moment later. "This is Lacus Clyne speaking." Randolf heard Mike choke over his secondary channel.

"Siegel Clyne's daughter?" Randolf gasped, shocked. He had no idea what was going on. What was such a dedicated peacemaker like Lacus Clyne... possibly the most beloved girl in all the PLANTS... doing out here in the desert? Talking to him no less. From the cockpit of an enemy mobile suit. _Wait a minute..._ "How do I know it's you, 'miss Lacus'? It seems likely to me that this is an attempt to throw us off guard." _one that worked... but maybe not._

His vidcomm screen blinked to life. Randolf's jaw dropped. It was Lacus Clyne, or else a clone of her... but clones did not exist... so Lacus it must be. "Miss Lacus... Lacus... Lacus... miss Clyne." the voices of his command ecoed tinnily along his other communication lines. Everyone knew who Lacus Clyne was... she'd helped stop the last war at Jachin Due and had played a major part in brokering peace between the PLANTS and the Earth afterwards. And even before that she had been one of the most wildly popular pop singers in all the PLANTS... and... to the younger generation... the most eligible and desirable girl around. There likely wasn't a Coordinator over the age of two that did not know of Lacus Clyne and all the things she had endured and done for the PLANTS. "Miss Lacus... what are you doing here?" Randolf replied, fingering his prized white moustache in surprise.

Lacus looked back at the ZAFT commander through the vidcomm. He was an older man... perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, but still quite vigorous by even a casual estimation... Coordinators did live longer than Naturals so he was only in middle middle age. Sun browned face lined with worry and sun, he had short white hair and a magnificent white bushy moustache like the one her father used to have. Pale green eyes studied her intently, looking for some deception. "I'm here to stop this situation from escalating out of control." she replied.

"You certainly have some explaining to do!" Randolf cried. "Why did you attack and destroy one of my patrols? You hate the idea of war and fighting, miss Lacus. I know you do."

"You are right, I do. And so does the pilot of this Gundam, Kira. He hates war just as much as I do." Lacus replied.

"That would be the Kira Yamato who contacted us initially? Here's there with you?" Randolf asked. Lacus shifted uncomfortably on Kira's lap. Even moving the keyboard out of the way there was little room for another person in the Liberty's cockpit... she had to sit scrunched up on Kira's lap... not something she normally minded, but given how he was strapped in she was fairly sure she had cut off the cirulation to both his legs just by how she was sitting, and he had to peek over her shoulder awkwardly in order to see where he was flying.

"Yes it would and yes he is. However, because of the limitations of the cockpit he's rather hard to see." Lacus answered. Randolf smiled.

"I can imagine. He must be someone you trust implicitly, miss Lacus, to let him fly you around in a mobile suit." Randolf could not help noting. His genius was in the little details, so he filed away how she had blushed when he said that. Plainly this Yamato guy was more than just a trusted friend. Lucky bastard.

"He is. But that is currently irrelevant. Right now we need to be focusing on the situation which confronts us. Kira destroyed your patrol, though he did leave the pilots unharmed. He only did so because they were killing fleeing soldiers. We aren't here to fight the PLANTS, commander. We also aren't here to fight the Earth Alliance. We plan to fight the agressors. The people who try to spread the war. Who created it."

"So you are fighting the Alliance then?" Mike cut in, confused. The Liberty settled to the ground nearby. Mike and Randolf walked their Grendels closer until they were standing within easy voice talking range, if any of them had wanted to open their cockpits to the merciless sun.

"No. We are fighting the war itself. The tendency to escalate. The people who would bring death to the helpless and suffering to the undeserving. The people who would use nukes... or any weapon of mass destruction." Lacus refuted.

"That still sounds a lot like the Alliance to me." Randolf replied. "But if you aren't with the Alliance and you aren't with us... which side are you on, Miss Lacus?"

"I am currently on the side of peace... where I have always tried to be."

"That is a very good answer... for the diplomats table. Out here on the field of what may have to be a battle I find those words less than sufficient. You have admitted to attacking and destroying ZAFT troops, miss Lacus. Or at least condoning the actions of one who did. I find it quite odd that a person such as yourself would be way out here in the middle of the desert for no reason at all. Don't you think you are acting a little suspicous?" Randolf told her. Lacus looked a bit taken aback.

"You don't believe me? Do you think I'm a fake or an imposter?"

"No... I know you are the real Lacus Clyne. I was a very casual acquiantance of your father's... I went to your house once, you probably don't remember, you were young... but you are unmistakably that same girl. But you've been out of view for quite some time, miss Lacus. Long enough that I cannot help but worry that your thinking may have been influenced. Maybe even coerced."

"Coerced? By who?" Lacus demanded indignantly. Randolf frowned. She was getting very defensive... a trait unknown to the Lacus Clyne of his experience, who was quite open and frank at all times.

"By whoever was in that jet. By whoever is in those other mobile suits out of sight beyond the dunes there. Maybe even by that man in the cockpit with you. I don't know. I know you were accused of treason in the last war, miss Lacus and I did not believe it when I heard it. I was glad when the charges were proven to be unfounded. But I cannot deny that the seed of the possibilty was planted in my mind. And this situation is nuturing that seed something fierce." Randolf replied, his voice cooling. He hit a macro key on his keyboard, sending a text only message to his command, telling them to remain alert. This was beginning to smell like a bait and lure trap. He and Mike were very exposed out on the dune top.

"Commander Randolf. I assure you that my words and my thinking are entirely my own. How can I prove that to you?" Lacus answered, staring at him so sincerely that he couldn't help but give her a chance. "I only want to prevent violence and bloodshed as much as possible. Talking can resolve this problem and the war... if only people would give it a chance." Lacus continued.

"Fine... exit the cockpit and come over to us. Tell Mr. Yamato to power down his Gundam as well. And tell your friends back in the dunes to come forward as well, with weapons powered down as well. Then we can talk and I'm sure we can get this whole thing straightened out good and proper." Randolf ordered. Lacus thought for a moment and nodded.

"Very well." she said. Randolf watched on the screen as she shifted position. His keen eyes noted every detail... including what could have been the accidental brush of a hand against a macro switch as she struggled with the tight cockpit confines. Could have been. Would have been, maybe... if a slurry of high caliber shells hadn't screamed out of the sky behind his position and ploughed into Mike's Grendel, chewing through the back armor and blowing his friend of twenty years into blood and meat scraps right there on the secondary screen before detonating the Grendel in a thunderous flash of light and sound which threw Randolf's Grendel down like a rag doll. He lay there, stunned, bleeding from striking his head on a side screen. Unable to get the image of that almost casual brush of a hand against a switch out of his mind. The signal switch which could sent any one of a hundred signals. Including an attack signal to waiting forces around the trap he was now convinced he had allowed himself to be lured into. The bait had been perfect. She was, after all, not a fake. She was after all... a traitor! The hardest kind of foe to face... because you never wanted to admit they could exist.

"All teams... it's a TRAP. It's a TRAP! Fight for your lives! DAMN LACUS CLYNE!" Randolf shouted, clawing his way back to full consciousness and rolling the Grendel to it's feet.

-----------------

"Hah! Ha ha ha!" Cray Thresher exulted in the adrenaline rush of combat. The magnifed sound of his 120mm gatling cannons loading new belts of shells carried musically to his ears. He switched for a moment over to his missiles, sending flights of forty at a time screaming down into the ZAFT mobile suits milling around below, causing plumes of burnt sand and dull smoke to rise from fresh craters and burning hulks of mobile suits freshly killed. He turned on his multi-target system, drawing beads on a bulky looking heavy limbed suit with his dual 350mm hyper impulse beam cannon, a pair of BuCue's with the 400mm anti armor shotgun, and a team of Ginns with the four 120mm gatling cannon and six 57mm beam cannon on the shoulders and chest. Wave after wave of munitions and beam energy washed from his guns in a flood, casuing the entire Merciless to shake like a man with terminal palsy. The vibrations thrummed up and down his spine. It was the most pleasurable thing in existence.

Ashino came hurtling in from the side, weaving through Cray's fire storm with ease of long practice. Cray always sprayed his fire around like a man with a garden hose... but he rarely hit the same area twice... because he never needed to. So Ashino always aimed the Bane towards where the firestorm had last touched down, smashing into re-organizing troops like a hammer into crystal. His Death's Shroud smoke projectors were pumping out oily and gritty smoke at maximum volume, quickly helping to obscure the battlefield wherever he went. He deflected panicked beam shots into the ground around him with his shield and gave better than what he got with precision close range fire from his 120mm gatling cannon main weapon, blowing enemies apart with neat bursts of shells.

Every so often he cut loose with his shoulder beam cannons, 3 green beams per shoulder, lancing out to claw red fire and wrecked metal through the enemy. He did not laugh, though he did admit he was smiling a little at the joy of exercising his abilities in the manner he was created to do. This was what he was for. Frost had not engaged. He wasn't interested in ZAFT except if they got in his way. Got in the way of the real enemy. The ones in the scorched black mobile suit currently taking off from the rasied dune only a half klick ahead of him, who had yet to see him coming. And then, after that one, the rest of them, off in the distance, scrambling to react.

"How could you do it? How could you betray the PLANTS and join the Earth Forces? LACUS CLYNE!" Randolf shouted, tears in his eyes. This betrayel cut deeper than bone deep. It was soul deep. This relevation would curdle the morale of every soldier in ZAFT. Who was there to fight for if not your loved ones back home... the people who's image Lacus Clyne had exemplified. He struggled to lock his weapons on to the mobile suit with Lacus in it, but the stupid computers would not give him a target lock. He pulled the triggers anyway, sending tracer fire and beam energy flaring at the enemy, kicking up dust and splatters of glass as his fire chewed into the dunes instead of the armor of the mobile suit. He was shooting low. He struggled to bring his aim up, but by then the enemy mobile suit was away, wings like those of the angel of death, sooty black with char unfolding from its back.

"No! I didn't betray the PLANTS! I don't know what is going on!" Lacus cried back, frightened and totally flat footed by the sudden attack, which had come from nowhere.

"I don't believe you." Randolf retorted, out of weapons but not comm range. "You sold us out to the Earth Forces. Lured us out of Gibraltar and into this heinous trap. Those precious new Gundams of yours that flanked us... they're the ones from DC, aren't they? That's what my computer says, anyway. And I trust it. Unlike people, computers never lie."

"No! This is a mistake! I didn't set you up. I did not want this to happen! I want there to be peace." Lacus protested. Randolf spit back at her, not caring that he was only streaking his own screen.

"The peace of death is all you desire. I can see that plainly now. I swear, Lacus Clyne... I swear I will pay you back in full for this treachery. If need be I will haunt you to your dying day. I WILL HAUNT YOU LACUS CLYN..." Randolf cut off in a blizzard of static. Frost was frustrated. He would have had the Gundam if the stupid ZAFT suit hadn't opened fire and caused it to fly off. He drew a beam sword and cut the ZAFT suit in half and then kicked in the chest as it fell, sending the torso, great rent punched clean through it, tumbling through the sand for a few hundred yards. He then turned back to the fleeing Gundam and powered up his thrusters. They wouldn't be getting away this time. And this time the Fury was EMP shielded... they wouldn't get him with the same trick twice.

"No..." Lacus trailed off with a sob.

"Lacus." Kira said quietly. She did not respond. "Lacus." he said more firmly. Still no response. "LACUS!" Kira snapped loudly. She jumped and looked at him with wide eyes. "Now is not the time. We can work over this later... right now it looks like we have Frost on our tail and I really can't fight him with you in here. We're in mortal danger."

"Frost... so that's what Randolf meant by the Gundams that had flanked him... the Earth Forces must have sent Frost and reinforcements to Gibraltar... and they must have followed the ZAFT forces out here and caught them in the back when I tried to talk to them..." Lacus trailed off again.

"I agree, dear. That must be what has happened." Kira said, struggling to get a better viewing position. He personally had a few misgivings about her theory... there were only three Earth Forces mobile suits he could see... all Gundams... so that wasn't much in the way of reinforcements... Gibraltar had likely been the trap and Frost and his wingmen had been sent to hunt down the missing ZAFT soldiers who had come after Kira and company. He noted with concern how Lacus seemed to be a little out of it... she was usually so strong and focused during tight spots... but then again that was pretty traumatic, having someone believe you had betrayed them and had died believing that before you could convince them otherwise. It made him feel a little sick just thinking about it. But there was no time for that since Frost was rapidly catching up.

"Kira is in trouble." Athrun told Cagalli, uncoupling his power connector and bringing the Righteous fully online. The Rubicon had only been charged to about forty percent power, but it would have to be enough, because there was a battle headed their way... and from the look of things it was no minor squabble either. Explosions rocked the sky and smoke and fire spurted high into the air from over the ridge of dunes. Athrun looked around. Miriallia was sprinting towards the Grand Buster, which had boarding rope lowered and waiting. Ysak was just taking off in the Duelist, heading towards the fight. Alkire was herding the families towards the Archangel bunker, while people he assumed to be Desert Dawn soldiers came hustling out of concealed pits in the sand to hurry them along.

"Let's go save him then." Cagalli said with a small smile, brining the Rubicon to readiness as well. "You go first."

"Thanks." Athrun replied, smiling as well, taking off and zooming towards the battle at flank speed. It was only a few seconds before the blackened form of the Liberty came into view, racing at its own max speed towards him. Kira was being chased. And when he saw what was chasing Kira, Athrun's heart skipped a beat. It was the green mobile suit from Orb. Frost's mobile suit. "Ah shit." he muttered.

"What?" Cagalli asked a moment before her own camera zoomed in. "Ahhh!" she cut off her own scream. "It's Frost!" she announced over the public channel. Everyone who did not already know that froze a moment. And then got moving. A lot faster than before. Ysak brought his flight trajectory around and aimed himself towards Frost, bringning his beam rifle and 25mm gatling beam cannon into play, blasting away in an attempt to slow Frost down so Kira could safely unload Lacus. Athrun gave supporting fire as well... it was difficult because of the shallow angle and close distance between Frost and Kira... his shots were practically skimming the Liberty... close enough that the Angel Halo was actually curving the beams a little. And the fire did slow Frost a little... but only a little. Enough for him to not catch up... but Kira could not pull away either.

Miriallia strapped herself in faster than she had ever done before... she was done before the cockpit hatch had fully finished resealing itself. She pulled her keyboards down from their storage racks as Dearka activated the weapon systems. Mir kept one eye on her screen as she watched Athrun, Ysak and Cagalli try to help Kira escape from Frost long enough to get Lacus clear so Kira could fight. She kept her other eye roving on her sensor screens, watching with much discomfort as Frost's two companions mopped the floor with the twenty or so remaining but rapidly diminishing ZAFT mobile suits. Whoever they were they were good... very good. Maybe not as frightening as Frost, but they were better than the Coordinators they were decimating. And in much superior mobile suits. Even the new invisible ZAFT mobile suits were no match... invisibility did not matter much when the entire arc of land you were standing on was saturated with munitions and beam energy. And whatever that smoke was that one was producing was playing royal hell with the sensors... they were cutting in and out with alarming frequency and the camera displays were beginning to grime up with a layer of sooty grit even as she watched.

"They're too close..." Dearka complained, trying to figure out which weapon to use... all of his had area of effects too large to be safely fired into either group of combatants without significant risk of friendly fire casualties. And while he knew Kira was an amazing pilot... far more skilled that Dearka... he would be nowhere near his best with Lacus sitting on his lap. And not only for physical reasons.

"Archangel! Archangel, please respond. This is Miriallia Haw, in the Grand Buster. Archangel!" Miriallia called into the comm unit, switching through dozens of channels, trying to raise the warship which slumbered only a few hundred meters away.

"... this is... Murd... uster... ple... res... status?" Chief Murdoch's gruff voice cut through the static of heavy jamming. On the bridge of the buried warship Murdoch banged his hand on the communications panel in frustration, looking at the sensor feeds displayed on the bridge screens. "Can't we get this blasted junkheap started any faster? How much longer until we reach critical power?"

"One hundred and eighty seconds, Chief."

"Chief... those soldiers that came from the passenger jet have made it inside... I've put them up in the starboard crew galley for the moment. One of them, Major something or other, demands to talk to someone in charge."

"Yeah, Colonel Kisaka told me there'd be some special forces acquaintances of his coming with the kids. Bring this guy and his friends up to the bridge, but leave the Earth forces soldiers where they are... we'll sort them out later. Shit, they're getting hammered out there. Miriallia! This is Chief Murdoch. Can you hear me? What is your status?"

"... Can... ar you Chief... jammed... new... undams... ue... mos." Miriallia's reply crackled back on the bridge speakers. Murdoch watched helplessly as the big Buster upgrade stamped forward, spewing green beam fire from its shoulder cannons, adding to the firestorm that was already hounding the guy who was practically flying up Kira's ass. It didn't seem to help much... whoever the guy in the short green Gundam was... he was damned good. Damned good. Murdoch looked around at the bridge crew, hustling about their tasks as they tried to bring the ship online in record time. There were more of them than usual... along with a great deal of information Colonel Kisaka had assigned quite a few veteran Orb soldiers who had more loyalty to Kisaka than to the new Orb to help out with the ship. Murdoch was grateful for the assistance... though the Archangel could be run on a skeleton crew... indeed had for much of the last war... having a full crew made an impossible situation into something slightly more managable.

------------------------

Alkire practically sprinted through the corridors of the unfamiliar ship. He'd never been on board the Archangel before but he'd seen pictures of it and he had a rough idea of where the bridge was, and he knew where he'd entered it from. The rest he left up to his keen sense of direction and commando training... he could extrapolate... roughly... just what direction he had to be going in to get to the bridge. Maybe not one hundred percent accurate but he hadn't had the time to be shown the proper way... the guide hadn't been moving nearly fast enough for the emergency they were in. Alkire turned right at what he hoped was an elevator. His training failed him this time.

It was a suite of rooms... a rather large one too. Senior officer quarters of some sort. Occupied. This extra deduction was made simple by the figure of the woman, dressed in casually opened Earth Forces uniform with Captain's pips on her shoulders who stood in the middle of the room with a glazed look on her face. Alkire did not know her personally but he dredged her description from what he'd heard from Victor and James after that time in Switzerland. It was the crazy woman. Captain Ramius... the disassociative one. "Pardon me, ma'am." Alkire said, nodding a polite salute, even though she probably hadn't even realized someone else was in the room. People with battle shock tended to be only loosely aware of reality.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice sharp like a blade. She turned and started buttoning her uniform jacket with unconscious grace. Alkire noted tear tracks... recent tear tracks... running down her face but her eyes were not the slightest bit wet or unfocused. "I heard the battle stations alarm. And just who the hell are you?" she demanded, edging over to a desk, reaching into her coat almost casually. Alkire watched her the whole way, and held up his arms, well away from his body.

"Major Alkire Majesty... formerly in the EFSOU. Now I'm probably what you might call a crusading mercenary." Alkire watched Ramius continue to draw the pistol that was in her jacket pocket. "I'm a friend of Kira's for gods sake! And we're under attack!" she paused.

"Kira's here?"

"I don't have time to fill you in. I need to get to the bridge and talk to Chief Murdoch so we can get this fat bird into the air and start providing some covering fire! There's a major battle going to shit outside and Kira and all the other kids are right in the middle of it." Alkire said, exasperated. Why did these things have to happen only at the most critical times?

"Let's go then. This way." Murrue Ramius replied, pulling her jacket on and slapping her cover down on her head as she jogged quickly out into the hall and towards the express elevator to the bridge. Alkire looked around the room one more time... noting the silver coffin locket with rose emblem on a chain looped around the picture of a blond haired and blue eyed man in a Lt. Commander's uniform. The man in the picture looked reasonably familiar but Alkire did not have time for that. He followed the re-energized Captain Ramius to the bridge.

--------------------------------

Ysak gritted his teeth. This was bad. He had been forced to pull off from trying to save Kira's sorry ass by the appearance of a second Earth Forces Gundam... this one painted pure white with a black skull like head, equipped with a beam deflecting shield like the one with the scythe in the last war had and armed with a chattering heavy gatling cannon plus racks of missiles and at least four beam cannons on its shoulder pauldrons. This new enemy had attacked with a precision that Ysak found to be very reminiscent of his own... no jerky movements or random fire splattering around... even with a rapid fire weapon this guy placed his shots exactly where he wanted them to go... never firing long enough for recoil to pull him off target. He also didn't get mad and make stupid charges or shout over the comm system like the guy in the last war had. All of which added up to make him a much tougher opponent than Ysak had expected. He couldn't get close to the guy... not without getting swarmed with gunfire and missiles... which while they wouldn't penetrate his armor would shake him up something fierce... likely enough for the guy to lock on his beams which would penetrate phase shift armor like soft cheese.

Ashino was not having an easy time of it either. This Coordinator... likely the one named Ysak Jule, by the information they had been given, since he piloted a machine very much like the Duel Gundam... this Ysak was a canny fighter. Much like Ashino himself. He refused to be drawn out. Refused to try and push in to close range, even though that was where his machine's strengths obviously lay... because to do so would mean exposing himself to the full force of the Bane's armaments... which would mean dying. Ashino rippled off another short burst with the gatling cannon, which the enemy took on his shield. Stalemate. At least until some new variable entered the equation... like if Cray ever finished up destroying the ZAFT mobile suits like a child crushing ants. Or if Frost would show an iota of tactical sense and fight back instead of pursuing the Liberty Gundam like a dog on a short leash. But why should Frost and Cray start acting rational now? When was the world ever that kind to him? Never. No... as usual, Ashino would have to create his own advantage. At least he was well equipped to do that. He hit the overdrive button for his Death's Shroud smoke emitters, emptying the canisters in one mighty rush of gritty black smoke.

Ysak suddenly found himself unable to see... and his sensors weren't working well either, cutting in and out, flickering like they were out of power. And it wasn't just the dark black smoke that was blocking his vision... specks were rapidly building to drifts of gunk on his camera lenses... even the secondarys. Within five seconds minor alarms started ringing as whatever particulate was suspended in the smoke started to seep into his engine intakes and joint seams...where it stuck and glued and fouled lubricants and generally caused a lot of grief. Nothing life threatening... yet... but if he kept getting the stuff in him it would eventually impede his performance. He started his thrusters, intending to lift himself clear of the gunk smog. he was barely a few meters off the ground when the other mobile suit... damn him, but how could he see in this crap?... grabbed him. Physically grabbed the Duelist's legs with its arms. Another alarm started pinging. Some external source was drawing a huge load on the Duelist's nuclear reactor... drawing nearly 80 percent power. The reactor wasn't going to run out of power... but if the load wasn't removed it would eventually shut down to keep from overheating. Ysak didn't know what the enemy was doing to him... but it wasn't likely to be friendly. He kicked and powered up his thrusters as much as possible, trying to worm his way free so he could at least attempt to fight back.

Ashino ignored the armor damage alarms triggered by the blazing jet wash of the enemy mobile suit melting the armor of the Bane's forearms. It was minor damage, little more than cosmetic. Not nearly enough to justify removing the limbs before the power leeching gauntlets had fully charged the Mjolnir cannon, which would occur in another few seconds. Meanwhile, he targeted the other enemies he could see, the bright red-pink one with Orb markings and the Buster Gundam upgrade with his shoulder beams... not getting very close but causing them to slack off their fire at Frost a little to adjust to the new threat. The Duelist landed a few more resounding kicks, cracking a few armor plates off and slightly warping a hip joint... enough to cause a noticable if not visible limp. The Mjolnir capacitors glowed green. Charged and ready. Ashino released the Duelist, which almost comically surged forward almost a hundred meters before righting itself and turning back, leaving the slowly dissipating Death's Shroud cloud. It didn't matter. It would take hours of cleaning to ungum the joints and clean off the camera lenses... and by that time the furious flames would likely have melted the enemy to slag instead, since Ashino would only leave a smoldering wreck behind him.

Ysak was hopping mad. Nobody made him look like a fool and got away with it. Nobody he didn't let do it anyway. Though he couldn't see very well... his camera lenses were still annoyingly grimed up more than sixty percent of the way... he still cut loose with all he had. Railgun, shoulder beam gatling, beam rifle, missiles, CIWS guns... everything. He swept his fire around like a hose of death. He didn't see any explosions... but that didn't mean anything. Many mobile suits just fell down inert when killed... they only blew up in some instances, like if the battery was destabilized or if hit with a very heavy weapon. However, he wasn't so lucky this time... none of his shots had done much besides chip at the enemy. Return gatling cannon fire hammered into his shield side, twisting him around since he could barely see to get the shield up to block it.

"Ysak! The cloak! From the front!" Dearka ordered violently and suddenly over the communicator. Ysak did not pause to think... his friend could certainly see better than him right now. He dipped the Duelist to the left and rotated the torso violently, throwing the Photon Cloak up and around in front of him. There was no sensation of impact... energy blasts had very little mass... but something hit the Cloak with enough power to cause the radiated heat to sear the grime away from his camera lenses, leaving his vision scarred and pitted and missing some spots where the cameras had burned out, but overall much clearer.

Ashino frowned. He hadn't realized that the superconductor cloth could absorb so much energy. He'd seen the report on it from Orb of course... but the output of the Mjolnir cannon was roughly equivalent to that of a Warship's main cannons, though of course much shorter ranged. The lighting bolt should have stopped halfway through the hillside, after carving through the Duelist and four more just like it besides... but the cloak had stopped it cold and dissipated the energy as light and heat without even fraying. Plainly the enemy had some serious technologists on their side, to produce such a thing. Mjolnir cannon exhuasted, trump card played, Ashino tried to come up with a new plan. This was not going to be as fun a fight as he'd thought.


	46. Desert Catastrophe Finale

Dearka breathed a sigh of relief as Ysak swung the photon cloak around in time to absorb the blast of what looked for all the world like a purplish-blue arc of lightning which blasted forth from the center chest muzzle of the white enemy mobile suit. Sand turned to glass in a radius of twenty meters around the Duelist... plainly that lightning bolt had carried a lot of power. Dearka was glad it hadn't connected... there probably wouldn't have been much left of Ysak. And then no one would have been happy. He turned his attention away from helping Kira. His help there was marginal at best anyway... he couldn't draw a solid bead on Frost to save anyone's life. Better to help somewhere he could make a real difference. "Shoulder turrets are yours... try to bracket him for me." Dearka informed Mir.

"I'll do my best. Pulling Ysak out of the frying pan are we?"

"I know you will. And yep. He's going to be insufferable about it too."

"Don't you mean we will be?" Mir replied with a grin, shooting at the white enemy as she did so. It wasn't so bad firing at him... she didn't know who the hell he was... had never been threatened by him or maybe even her, never seen them face to face. So there was plenty of room to get angry and indignant instead of scared. How dare this faceless enemy threaten her and her friends? She couldn't let them get away with it. Dearka opened fire with measured blasts with hyper impulse cannon and anti armor shotgun, trying to drive the enemy away from the recovering Duelist. It only partially worked... the enemy did move away but in such a manner that the Duelist was now between them, caught in the crossfire.

"Damn it... why do they have to get tougher every battle?" Dearka complained, jinking the Grand Buster to the left in order to get a better shot. It didn't work. The enemy jinked right at the same time, keeping Ysak in the middle, so Dearka could not engage at full capacity. "Bastard!"

Mir was about to agree when her threat screen lit up like a christmas tree on overload power. The alarms had just begun to wail when she slapped them off. "Get us out of here!"

"What? Where?" Dearka cried, looking for the threat.

"Anywhere but freaking here! MOVE US!" Mir ordered at the top of her lungs, sensor screens flashing urgently with big red labels that said "EMERGENCY" like she couldn't figure that out for herself. The third enemy mobile suit had finished mashing up the ZAFT forces and had moved to engage them from the side. The emergency labels were because the monster mobile suit... the one they'd seen attack Pearl Harbor, which was thirty meters tall if a centimeter... had locked onto them with more weapons than Mir could quickly count. Including one that was highlighted in flashing orange that turned crimson just as Dearka jerked the Grand Buster into clumsy and erratic evasive maneuvers. The crimson weapon warning read very simply "semi-strategic weaponry, missile". Mir didn't know what exactly semi-strategic meant but she could make a pretty certain guess. She'd seen the city of Pearl Harbor. "He's more insane than Frost!"

"What? Tell me what's happening, I don't see anything!" Dearka complained. Mir slapped a macro and displayed the highlighted weapon lock indicator on the main screen, while opening the all hands channel. Dearka's jaw dropped. "Semi-strategic... missile... damn..." he turned the Grand Buster out of his maneuvers and just ran for his life instead.

"We've got a big problem here!" Mir informed everyone.

"Gee... I hadn't noticed him kicking my ASS, thanks." Ysak commented sarcastically from below.

"We're in a bit of a pinch over here too." Athrun said through gritted teeth, trying to place his shots to pry the limpet like Frost off of Kira, to little avail. The short little bastard was stuck on the Liberty like nothing else in the world even existed... Athrun had tagged the enemy mobile suit a few times... but for all Frost reacted he may as well have been shooting spitballs.

"Forget that. We have much bigger problems. Thermonuclear problems." Mir retorted. There was a long moment of static on the line. "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! HE'S SHOOTING A NUKE AT US!" Mir clarified, highlighting the image of the giant enemy hovering a few thousand feet above them and sending it to everyone. Everyone who quickly scattered like frightened mice. Everyone except for Kira, who turned and actually circled around, as if waiting for the hammer to drop.

"Kira... what are you doing, you idiot? You'll get Lacus and yourself killed!" Cagalli berated her brother.

"Kira knows what he is doing. I think." Lacus replied calmly.

---------------------------------

"Get out of the way you morons!" Cray ordered. "Or not... not like I give a damn. INCOMING!" he cried exultantly, firing not one but both of the tactical forty kiloton nuclear cruise missiles mounted on the Merciless's back. He'd meant to use them on Gibraltar... but there simply had been no need... the defenders were too pathetic to waste such brilliant weapons there. He also opened up with the rest of his weapons... he saw no need to return to JIHAD with a single unused shell in the machine... you weren't playing your all if you didn't come back empty. He didn't really target anyone specifically... at this range he was unlikely to strike well enough to cause damage... it was mainly just fun fire, designed to cause enough confusion to prevent enemies from concentrating on the real threat of the missiles. He held down all his triggers, laughing like a man possessed.

"GOD DAMN IT, CRAY! You BASTARD!" Ashino snarled, throwing the Bane into overdrive as he struggled to get out of the target zone. That was Cray's problem... like Frost he had no sense of empathy or pity... but unlike Frost he really liked to throw his weight around too. Thus the deluge of beams and bullets, and the total overkill of TWO nuclear missiles. What, did he think they were invading a hardened military base or something? There were no targets of value for a hundred miles. It was just a waste of power.

Frost ignored the antics of his fellows. He was so close now. He could almost reach out and touch the enemy mobile suit on the back. He drew his swords and activated them. Maybe five... six more seconds at the most. The enemy took a sharp turn up, sacrificing speed for height. Frost shrugged... maybe they were tired of running and wanted to die with face to the sun. It didn't matter. He brought the Fury up after them, arms going back for the death blows.

"Kira..." Athrun said over the comm.

"Not NOW..." Kira replied very firmly but quietly. He could not afford to be distracted. Not while flying partially blinded by Lacus, with her ridiculously long hair, with Zacahris Frost foaming at his heels quite literally, straight into the path of two thermonuclear missiles. Calling the situation tense was... totally inadequate. He stood a better than even chance of not surviving the next four seconds. The ways he and Lacus could die were more than he could imagine. But there was simply no other way to solve both dilemmas... to get Frost off him so he could get Lacus to saftey, while also getting rid of the missiles before they could inadvertently strike and damage or destroy the Archangel in it's bunker. Less than two seconds to go now... the missiles were coming dead on, one slightly leading the other. Converging velocities and trajectories. He hoped Frost could not see around the bulk of the Liberty... else this would be very embarrassing, shortly before being fatal.

"I love you, Kira." Lacus murmured, barely audible, composed now. Unafraid. Trusting in him.

"Love you too." he managed.

"THAT KID IS FUCKING INSANE!" Alkire screamed on the bridge of the Archangel, which was just starting to power up all its systems. "FLYING INTO THE NUKES! WHAT IS HE ON?"

"Believe in him." Murrue suggested, drawing astonished gasps from the crew, who were all of course aware of her former condition as a grief stricken vegetable. They were staring at her like she had come back from the grave... and maybe she had, in a way. Some were even managing to ignore the imminent death by nuclear fire that was currently about a second and a half from engulfing them all. Alkire consigned himself to dying amongst the company of madmen and women. It had been a good run...

Kira waited until he could read the stenciling of factory identification on the front part of the missile farthest back before flicking the Liberty to the side just enough of a fraction for both missiles to flash by him like streaks of light... one actually close enough to scrape along the Liberty's leg for a hairsplit moment of time. Kira closed his eyes. Now the ball was entirely in the court of a man who had utterly no humanity left in him. A beast of pure murderous instinct... as close to nature red in tooth and claw as ever was. It was Frost's move. Kira hoped with all his heart the psycho was up to it.

Frost had perhaps an eighth of a second to react. Suddenly the enemy was nowhere in front of him, and he found himself staring down two nuclear missiles from a range of about five meters, while closing on a converging velocity of close to a kilometer per second. A lot can happen in an eighth of a second. Especially for someone like Frost, so full of adrenaline stimulants and wired reflexes that such a length of time could not only be discerned but utilized productively. He hit the celerity system activation and crossed both swords before him before either missile could hit and detonate... slicing off the warheads cleanly, sending each spinning to the ground below... detonators flying off about a half second later, severed by a second series of cuts performed faster than the computer camera's could detect. However, the amazing move did not come without cost. Both of the Fury's arms broke off from the stress, and he did not dodge the missiles, which still retained about 80 of their mass. And while they did not and could not detonate in a nuclear reaction, they still carried about eight tons of hydrogen fuel and weighed a good twenty tons each. The energy of the collisions was intense, to say the least. Most mobile suits would have flown apart into tiny pieces. But the Fury was designed very ruggedly, to handle the higher than human levels of performance expected from the pilot. It held together. Barely.

The Fury struck the ground about four seconds after the disarmed warheads, smoking and twisted into an almost unrecognizable shape. Both missiles had detonated their fuel supplies on impact, and conveyed much of their knietic energy into the Fury as well. It gouged out a crater more than four meters deep and twelve across when it hit. But it still stayed intact. They hadn't been joking around when they said they'd built it to last. Frost was jerked around so hard by the collision that his restraints snapped. The impact with the ground should have turned him to paste... even him. But he'd braced himself during the fall and so was only ejected from the mobile suit, through the hatch door... shut at the time... and thrown more than two hundred meters laterally through the air before landing and rolling another thirty meters. He lay face down in the sand and did not move.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" about eight different people screamed over several different comm channels. Kira finished the barrel roll he'd been forced to enter to level out from the brush with the missile and brought the Liberty down slowly. He was exhausted... it had taken almost everything he had, all his concentration... all his focus and energy to pull off that simple little twist. He never, ever wanted to do anything even close to that level of difficulty again. Lacus collapsed against him... neither could say a word, only gasp and pant and hold each other very tightly.

"I do not believe what I saw." Ashino said, jaw agape. _That could not have happened. He could not have done that intentionally. I thought Frost was insane... but to actually try to fly your enemy into two nuclear missiles... just on the off chance he might be good enough to disarm the missiles in midflight, on the even more off chance the missiles missed you in the first place... no. That has to be luck. Filthy, unimaginable luck. No one is that capable. Not even Frost. Not even close._

"What the hell happened? Why did my missiles not go boom?" Cray complained, stupified. Where had that enemy and Frost come from? And how had they managed to run into the missiles without going up in the huge fireball like they should have? There should have been nothing left of either mobile suit but dust and smoke, mixed in with a hell of a lot more dust and smoke from the ground. But the enemy was mostly unharmed, if not active, and the Fury... well it was totalled... but it wasn't ruined. And Frost should have been a little messy red smear inside the Fury... but there he lay... whole, if not necessarily alive, out on the sand. Cray was too far away to see if the BCPU 6 actually still breathed... but he didn't doubt it. Until he actually cut Frost's head off himself, and burned it himself and maybe not even then would he believe Frost was really dead.

"He couldn't have planned that. No sane man would have given the odds of that stunt working at greater than a bazillion to one! I can't believe I'm still alive. It's almost enough to get me religion. Holy crap." Alkire said, collapsing to his knees on the bridge.

"Sometimes you just have to have faith in the abilities of your friends... though I must admit I thought we were all dead too." Murrue commented from the Captain's chair. She seemed remarkable unruffled by the brush with death to Alkire... maybe her sense of reality wasn't fully quite back yet.

"He's still alive..." Chanel breathed, her eyes closed in concentration. She could almost feel the undiminished malevolence of Frost, lying out there on the sand. Well... maybe more than almost... he burned with hate to even the naked eye. Little surprise he should be easily observable in other ways.

"How do you know that? He can't be alive. No human could live through that." Chief Murdoch retorted.

"I've seen him live through some serious shit... the bombs and all... but I still think that this time he bit it." Victor added. "Do you have any idea what sort of stress he must have undergone at just the first impacts, with the missiles? He should be atomized right now. He should be..." Victor trailed off. Frost was slowly climbing to his feet. It was a painful process... plainly the little man was badly injured... but he was up. And he was smiling.

Frost did not feel. He was too badly damaged. Several important organs were slushies. But his implants and his obstinancy were keeping him up... for the moment. He staggered slightly. He could not move his legs. He stared at the Liberty balefully. Against all odds they had escaped him again. Some cosmic twist of fate had denied him again. The other enemy mobile suits were starting to return. And a massive warship... the Archangel, his eyes told him... was unearthing from beneath the massive sand dune that the enemy was gathered around. So that was why they were here... they wanted their ship. They were going mobile. Frost barely registered the Bane swooping down and picking him up, gently enough, in one hand. The Merciless descended and lifted the Fury in its arms. The enemy was still too stunned by his display of speed and skill... and the sudden realization they weren't all going to die... that they did nothing to stop the two BCPU's from salvaging the Fury and making off with Frost. They would be back. There would be other times.


	47. Frozen Situation

Wasting no time, everyone quickly boarded the Archangel, before more enemies... either ZAFT or Earth Forces... could show up to prolong a fight which had already gone on for far too long, in everyone's estimation. They did pause long enough to check the shattered remains of the ZAFT force for survivors... an unfortunately vain hope. The monstrously large and heavily armed mobile suit that had tried to nuke them had visited only slightly less total destruction upon the ZAFT forces. There were few mobile suits that existed in pieces larger than the hood of a small car, each blasted apart by hundreds of rounds of high explosive shells and missiles, or melted by the unimaginable heat of multiple beam cannons and even hyper impulse beam cannons. The few that were still mostly whole... like Commander Randolf's destroyed mobile suit, which had only been cut in half and half crushed, had then been set alight by incendiary weapons and were slowly melting into pools of molten trash... the heat was too intense to approach closer than ten meters.

The scale of the damage was totally unnessecary... mobile suits that were plainly destroyed had been shot up like tin cans apparently just for the fun of it. It reminded everyone once again that their enemies were not just men... they were something... else. Not more, but not altogether less either. It hardened the resolve of many, even as it spread icy fingers of dread in the hearts of others. The thought of the close call with the nukes was never far from anyones mind. However, even the close call with death couldn't keep weariness away forever. Though Murrue was rested, remarking in total unabahsed surprised at how refreshed she felt, everyone else had been up for at least a day, more like three days in the case of the Yamato's, Haw's, Buskirk's and Argyle's. Through almost constant flying and fighting, everyone was more than ready to hit the racks in the Archangel at the first opportunity

Kira did not wake at all for longer than it took to use the bathroom and eat a few meals until they were almost the the Kusanagi's Antarctic bunker-hanger. Well... that was not strictly true. After the first awaking from the sleep of mind numbing exhaustion he and Lacus had held a "Re-affirming of their living relationship" so to speak. The efforts from which had promptly dropped him back into the land of deep slumber for another twelve hours. No one bothered them. In fact, Kira would have been stone dead stupified if most of his friends had not done similarly. There was nothing like escaping the threat of instant death to shake one to the very core and make you want to look for comfort in the people you knew best. And when you were seventeen and eighteen... well once you were already that close, it really wasn't all that many steps until you were rounding home plate. But it had only been the once.

After that everyone was too damn busy all the time. After waking the second time Kira had forced himself to his feet, finding Lacus already gone, the sheets where she had been only lukewarm... she'd been gone more than an hour then. He grinned. It was so in character for her... now that one crises was over she was throwing herself headlong into the next. Getting dressed he'd yawned and found his feet carrying him down the too familiar corridors to the hanger decks, where everyone's mobile suits were stored. Chief Murdoch looked up from where he was bent over one of the two Skygraspers that were still stored on board... presumably they had been rolled out because the Archangel was back in atmosphere.

"Those commando friends of yours really know how to twist a guys arm to get what they want." Murdoch commented with his usual gruff sourness, managing to sound like the world had gone out of its way to give him problems specifically.

"I don't know if I'd call them my friends... more like acquaintances that won't leave a friend of mine alone and so travel with us." Kira replied. Murdoch blinked slowly, mind clearly elsewhere.

"Yeah, whatever, kid. I won't say I have any clue what you're talking about, but if they've been hanging around with you and the pink princess, they can't be all that bad." Murdoch said with a shrug. "Obstinate bastards though." he mumbled almost as an afterthought

"I'm not so sure on that score myself." Kira muttered. He looked around the hanger. There were a lot more people around... old faces from the mechanic crew of the Archangel from last war... bearded Desert Dawn freedom fighters moving crates of supplies... smartly dressed Orb soldiers in clean new uniforms... the hanger was bustling like it practically never had except during the most critical of moments during the last war. "So why are you tooling up the Skygraspers? Did Kisaka send us some pilots too?"

"Nope. Thats what I was talking about with the commandos. Apparently their leader guy... the one with the incredible fake sounding name... pitched a fit of holy hell because we left his precious plane back in the desert. Not like there was anywhere to put it on board. But still, the man practically had a stroke right there on the bridge and Captain Ramius finally told me to get a Skygrasper out of cold storage to shut the mouthy bastard up. Though how good a pilot he'll be is something I'm waiting real earnestly to see... he's a ground pounder... probably can't fly a shuttle into the ground." Murdoch continued, sneering slightly with the long time spacers disregard for the ground forces in any military.

"That's Alkire for you." Kira agreed. "Though he's pretty good. He put his passenger jet through some pretty flashy maneuvers in Switzerland."

"There's a difference between flashy and useful." Murdoch retorted, his voice muffled as he shoved his head down under a cockpit console.

"He indirectly caused two mobile suits to shoot each other down via friendly fire..." Kira trailed off, wondering why he was sticking up for Alkire so much... it wasn't like he even particularly liked the man... he'd even gotten into a fight with him... though it had mostly consisted of Kira flying off the handle and trying to punch Alkire's light's out. Kira suddenly felt ashamed... it was true he'd been upset but those soldiers had been planning to kill them and Alkire had saved his life. He would have to apologize for how he'd acted. "But have you seen anyone else around?"

"Of the commandos? Nah... well there was that creepy guy with the black hair and gloves... Scandanavian name... he was hanging around trying to help out with the repairs and refits but he just wasn't fitting in... nobody could warm to the guy and he eventually just disappeared."

"That's definitely Vladimir all right." Kira said, suppressing a shiver. He did not elaborate... Vladimir's story was his own to share, not Kira's. "But I meant like..."

"Like the pink princess, your buddy Athrun, Cagalli, the blond guy and Miriallia, right?" Murdoch cut him off, cursing under his breath as he shocked himself slightly as he fumbled with a circuit lead. "Haven't seen the blond dude... Dearka... that's his name. Nor Miriallia. They a couple or something, because they seem to be spending a lot of time together?" Murdoch went on, leaining out of the cockpit for a moment, mind not focussed at all on Kira.

"Chief." Kira implored. Murdoch shook himself, looking more aware.

"Yeah... sorry... lot on my mind, kid. The war and all... so much work that's just gotta be done. But you probably know about that as well as I, eh? Anyway, last I heard Athrun, Cagalli and your Princess were all up in the captain's cabin, making plans and doing other strategic level stuff that really doesn't interest me. But you should probably head up there. God knows why, but everyone seems to want your opinion these days." Murdoch said with a smile, his head re-concealed under the console.

"Thank's chief." Kira replied. Murdoch waved a hand awkwardly, nearly overbalancing and falling headfirst into the cockpit.

"Don't mention it. And tell the princess hi for me."

Kira walked away, shaking his head. In some ways it was good to be back, surrounded by the people who had come to mean so much to him during the last war. But in lots of other ways it hurt... really badly. Everyone on the crew was at least a friendly acquiantance if not a friend... but it seemed he never saw them except when there was fighting to be done and he was directly or indirectly responsible for their lives and futures. It was a heavy burden he was heartily sick of... but he'd bear it... this time and as many other times as need be until peace was assured. He swore it. He headed for the main elevator that would take him to the command levels of the warship.

"We have you on our radar." Kisaka was saying on the large viewscreen mounted on on wall as Kira walked in. "I'm glad your trip was much less eventful this time around." Kisaka's eyes turned slightly to face the door as it opened to allow Kira entrance. Kira met Kisaka's eyes, taking in with only slight interest the heavy cold weather gear that was barely visible in the video-picture... plainly it was quite cold in the hanger-bunker. Kira noddedly slightly in greeting to Kisaka... he really did not know what to say. He'd never really spent much time around the staunch Orb bodyguard... Kisaka had spent more time in meetings with Cagalli, Mu, Murrue, Lacus and the other leader types during the last war. He barely even knew the man at all, truth be told. Besides the fact that he was Cagalli's de facto guardian and friend and that he was a skilled, courageous and honorable man that is. It was almost disconcerting that people like Alkire and Vladimir knew Kisaka better than he did. Speaking of Alkire and company... Kira looked around the room. None of the TEMPEST team was present. He relaxed slightly... it was easy to plan to apologize but in truth he was still pretty upset about what Alkire had done out in the desert... he didn't know if he could really make a heartfelt apology right now.

"I don't know about that... waking up from my long... rest... to find myself staring down a pair of nuclear missiles did no good thing for my heart and nerves, that is for sure." Murrue joked, her face only darkening for a moment when she thought back on how weak she'd been... allowing herself to fall into a coma of grief and despair like that. Mu wouldn't have wanted her to do anything of the sort. It would have repelled him, she was sure. Still... that was in the past. She pushed herself past it, as she had done for too many tragedies so far. "If it hadn't been for yet another crazy stunt from Kira here we probably all would have gone up in a cloud of ash."

"I can hardly claim credit... Frost did most of the work." Kira joked... realizing as he did so that the inclusion of Frost's name had soured the jest irrecoverably. Only Murrue managed a real laugh... she of course had no idea about Frost. Everyone else managed a few weak chuckles... barely a smile in Lacus's case. Kira groped awkwardly for something else to say... he'd never been good at these social things. He was saved from further embarrassment by an incoming call chime. A second later another familiar face appeared as the view screen display split to allow the second call. "Mr. Waltfeld!" Kira exclaimed in surprise. Andrew Waltfeld tipped him a wink and gave a nod to everyone else in the room. Kira noticed that he too was wearing cold weather gear.

"I wasn't expecting you to show up in person, Andrew." Kisaka said, slightly surprised. "I thought you were keeping an eye on things up in the PLANTS." Waltfeld laughed and waved it off, unconsciously using his amputated arm, causing the limp sleeve to judder slightly before he corrected.

"With Miss Murrue finally deciding that the rest of us had had enough fun and getting into the game? Not likely. Besides, I'm a third wheel up in the PLANTS... I can hardly go out in public without being recognized and Dicosta has got the old intel network running like greased lightning... he doesn't need any help from a warhorse like me. And until we get back to space for the duration, there is little point in me going to the Eternal. I'm about an hour away from the bunker. Just calling ahead so you didn't blow me out of the sky when I showed up out of nowhere."

"I'll try to remember to warn the anti-aircraft defenses." Kisaka said dryly. Waltfeld smiled, the scar tissue on his face tugging the expression into an even more cocksure look.

"Much obliged. Now... while we're all mostly here... what do you guys think of what's gone on so far?"

"Geez... you sure know how to ask the hard questions." Cagalli muttured. Her relationship with Waltfeld had never been as cordial as it could have been... he'd been someone she hated for such a time that even though she without a doubt knew he was one of the good guys and on their side... she still found herself wishing he wasn't there right then. After all... he'd been indirectly responsible for Ahmed's death... no... no, she couldn't let herself go down that path. Not when she'd been so vocal during the last war in steering everyone else off that selfsame cycle of bloodshed.

Athrun noted her slight discomfiture... he'd been one of the few people she'd told about her feelings about everyone else... so he knew what she was likely thinking. He stepped up to take the initial hack at the situation as he saw it while she gathered her thoughts. "I don't think any of us is happy about how it's gone so far. However, such statements are rapidly becoming so obvious they almost feel banal. None of us want this war yet here it is, so we're going to have to deal with it as best we can. I personnally think the battles at Washington DC, Gibraltar and elsewhere up to now have been nothing but preludes to the real war. We're still in the operation Uruboros stage of the last war... both sides are still finding their footing and re-establishing their strengths in order for the serious fighting later on. I know that is a bit heartless... to count the horrendous fights at DC and Gibraltar as nothing but preliminaries, but I don't see how else we can look at them. So far there have only been small scale battles involving perhaps a hundred mobile suits all told in any one battle... I discount DC because a city encompasses more than one battle... and no use of weapons of mass destruction until a few days ago... which thankfully failed, though the Earth Forces showed as little restraint as I was fearing."

"The Earth Forces aren't the only ones who are gearing up for a different sort of war... most of the rumors I've been hearing up here are obviously panic stirred gossip but some things I feel we have to take more seriously. ZAFT is buying up lots of new mobile suit designs... opening up the defense market to civilian contractors was really a good move for them... competitivness amongst the companies has led to quite a few advanced designs... a few of which I'm sure you already encountered in the desert. I have the data files on both of the new types you've seen, by the way. The ones with Mirage Colloid are called Efreet and the big ones are Grendels. But besides them I hear ZAFT is working on a few more nasty surprises like the Gugnirs and a really super secret project of some sort going on in one factory... I don't know what it is but anything soaking up nearly forty percent of the defense budget can't be something friendly." Waltfeld replied. Everyone paused a moment at that last revelation.

"Forty percent of the entire defense budget!" Kisaka exclaimed, shocked. "Do you have any idea how much funding that is?"

"I don't have the exact figures... the funding is top secret as well, goes through all kinds of dead drops and random transfers as I'm sure you can appreciate... but I'd say this single project, whatever it is, is soaking up around twelve billion dollars a month. And costs for it have been going up every month since we got wind of it... whatever it is must be one hell of a package... but there is no evidence of a GENESIS level construction project anywhere within the PLANTS either. So as to what it is... that's anyone's guess." Waltfeld responded, looking more than a little nervous. It was never a good thing to know a potential enemy was whipping up one hell of a big bad something and you didn't know what it was at all. That kind of lack of knowledge could lead to things getting very messy to say the least.

"What about the direction the war is heading? Where will the next battle be?" Murrue wondered.

Kira sighed. That was what was so hard about their current situation. Unlike last time when they were too busy worrying about how they were going to survive the next day to wonder at the bigger picture, now they had to look at the war as a whole and decide where they would do the most good. It would mean splitting their forces. It would mean making a lot of choices he wasn't going to like... in a world wide war he couldn't be at more than one battlefield at at time... people would be dying all over the place and there was not a single thing he could do to stop it. Not unless they could somehow find who was responsible for the war... well... Blue Cosmos... but how could they find the real heart of Blue Cosmos? It wasn't like the terror organization put out flyers indicating where it's leaders were meeting or its main headquarters was located. Lacus gripped his arm in comfort, waiting for someone else to answer. Lacus tended to hold her counsel for the moment she judged best... usually near the end of any particular meeting.

"I predict the next fight will be in the Atlantic Federation. Perhaps the communications hub at Navajo mountain in old Colorado. If the PLANTS could knock that out it would give them a decisive advantage for at least a month or so. And the PLANTS have already proven how good they are at combining orbital drops with low orbit bombardment. Other than there, the Earth Forces will probably strike at Carpentaria to deny ZAFT the chance to re-establish a fleet presence on Earth again." Kisaka said confidently.

"We have to assume that Orb is also among ZAFT's priority targets now." Cagalli cut in, her voice hitching a little. "They can't afford to have such a well manned naval and air base located so close to Carpentaria and Australia... they'll never have operational freedom until Onogoro and Kaguya are disabled for good. Plus they probably wouldn't at all mind the opportunity to salvage some technology from Morganroete... the PLANTS aren't the only ones with a interest in advanced technologies after all."

"That's a good point." Murrue conceded with a nod. "Let's concentrate on those major battle zones for right now. How are we going to respond? Should we show up in force to a single most important battle, or split ourselves up and attempt to migitate as much damage as possible?"

"I believe we should split ourselves up as much as possible... even if it degrades from our combat effectiveness." Lacus said. Everyone went quieter to listen to her. Kira was, as ever, awed by the respect Lacus commanded with only gentle words. "After all, we aren't here to fight in the war... fighting in the war will acheive nothing but turn both sides against us as both perceive that the other side is being aided unfairly. As much as I hate to say it, while the war takes shape and until we can get a better idea of who the real enemy is and where they are I believe we should deploy ourselves to the areas where nuclear missiles and other weapons of mass destruction are likely to be used. I say it is our top priority to stop the use of weapons such as those before anything else. Every single death in this war pains me greatly... but that pain is nothing compared to what I and every other person will feel once both sides begin indiscriminate use of weapons of mass destruction. We have to stop the war from escalating to their use at all costs."

"So we become like... thermonuclear game wardens?" Waltfeld said, once again unvieling his slightly warped take on things. "Keeping the deer of mass destruction safe in their glens." Nobody said anything for a long moment. "What? Did I say something funny?"

"Somebody is letting their nickname go too far to heart." Athrun whispered to Kira.

"That or the cold is already getting to him. I'm cold just looking at him." Cagalli added.

"You need to work on your metaphor, Andrew." Murrue said with a tiny smile. "Though on a simplistic level, its accurate enough." She paused a few moments. "So where will the nukes next be used? Strategic missiles require substantial support crews in addition to whatever forces are assigned to guard and transport them... we should be able to detect any buildup at least a few hours in advance of a battle starting. And how should we dispose our forces, on a more defined level than just "split up"?"

"Obviously we need to divide the Gundams between the Kusanagi and the Archangel... we also have four new Astray Guardians aboard the Kusanagi, with no designated pilots as yet... our pilots were delayed in Orb and we don't know if they'll be able to reach us in time." Kisaka began. "I understand you have two skygraspers aboard the Archangel... combined I'd say our force is quite respectable. We should be easily able to interdict any weapons of mass destruction before they are detonated or fired." Kisaka continued. He was about to say something else when the door to the Archangel's bridge swished open again. Kira didn't look to see who it was... by the twisted expression that flashed across Kisaka's face he could place a pretty good bet. So it was that he did not jump like pretty much everyone else... who'd all been lost in thought... did when Vladimir's dry voice came from startlingly close behind them. Kira half twisted, having forgotten just how stealthy Vlad was... it was a good ten feet to the bridge door and Vlad was standing right behind him, a slightly uncertain but still determined look on his face.

"What about the crop dusters? Or the suicide bombs. The terrorists. The assassins. The gas. The poison. The plagues. The media. What about them? All are weapons of mass destruction... though many do not see them as such. How will you stop them?" Vlad asked softly.

"I'm... not sure what you mean. Or who you are." Waltfeld said cautiously.

"He's a old pupil of mi..." Kisaka started to say. Vlad held up a hand to stop him.

"Best we all start out on the same level, Colonel Kisaka, sir. I want this out in the open so that it doesn't cause problems later." Vlad continued, his voice calm and steady even if his face was twitching a little. "My name is Vladimir Valkavich. My name is also Andre Forkav. I'm sure you know who that is, esteemed Desert Tiger." Vlad said, tone neutral. Athrun watched Andrew Waltfeld go blank and then slowly turn to look at everyone else.

"This is a sick joke, right? Please tell me that a monster like the Strangler isn't talking to me." Andrew said in a very small voice. The bridge was dead quiet... most of the bridge crew having absolutely no idea what was going on.

"I killed your first cousin on your mother's side, your uncle on your father's side, both of that uncle's children and your second cousin's boyfriend. I cut off their heads after suffocating them with my bare hands and sent your father and mother their tongues with threatening notes pinned to them on your third birthday." Vlad replied, his voice even quieter than before. "I was supposed to kill you next but our safehouse was discovered and I had to make a quick getaway before the job went through. Your father found some documents carelessly left undestroyed that led to the capture of almost a third of our network in the PLANTS, and which included the plans for his and your assassination."

The silence was far longer and more tension filled than before. A long series of expressions swam across Waltfeld's face... old pain, disgust, anger, hatred, confusion, shock and even a little fear chief among them. "That's not a joke." Waltfeld said at last, his voice brittle.

"No, sir... it is not. I am sorry." Vlad replied. Waltfeld's image turned to regard everyone else.

"I suppose the rest of you already knew... of course... except for Murrue." Waltfeld gulped, collecting himself. "Well..." he coughed. "Well... I won't pretend that isn't a kick square to the balls. But now is not the time or place for old problems from my childhood to be addressed. I'm glad to know about it... because the problem will most assuredly be addressed." Waltfeld's voice went colder than the air around him for that last bit. "But... what was the rest of that stuff you said, about crop dusters and gas and such, Vladimir?"

"Of course, sir. Thank you." Vlad said. He looked at everyone else, a look of near contempt stealing briefly across his features. "You are all thinking far too narrowly. You speak of nuclear weapons and giant space lasers and other massive, visible and easily trackable weapons of mass destruction. That, to me, shows you have little to no grasp on the realities of the current situation."

"What don't you enlighten us then?" Dearka snapped, off put by the tone of Vlad's disregard.

"I shall, so listen carefully." Vlad replied, his voice getting even more hard edged as he forgot about his discomfort caused by stepping forward to Waltfeld. "You are all thinking like regular military... you can't help it, since thats what you are. Even Instructor Kisaka works primarily on the domestic security side of things... not international war or terrorism. And terrorism is what you should most definitely be worried about. Blue Cosmos is... among other things... the foremost terrorist organization on Earth. Last war they were disorganized in their efforts... crippled by lack of widespread public and even private support. Everyone saw them for the nutjobs they are. But now... now Earth feels it has been wrongly and brutally attacked... the terrorists will find no shortage of backing now, as sanctioned instruments of revenge rather than extremist weirdo's. They will be able to hide anywhere on the planet just by asking... people unable or unwilling to join the regular military will flock to their cause in droves." Vlad informed everyone.

He noticed that several were about to interrupt. He held up his hands for quiet again... he'd never been as good at the whole public speaking thing as Alkire... but this would have a far more dramatic effect coming from him, TEMPEST had decided. "You people see a target or an enemy or something you wish to prevent. So you build up your forces, make your plans, read your intelligence and then go in and accomplish your mission. All well and good when the enemy is playing by at least a reasonably similar set of rules. If both sides were content to simply amass weapons of destruction like nukes and hurl them at each other, even on a worldwide scale, then your plans would undoubtedly be of great use. But the war is not going to be fought that way. Not entirely or even mostly."

Vlad paused and saw that everyone was paying close attention now. Good, maybe they'd wake up and smell the coffee, like Alkire would say. "Nukes will be used. But they are the least of our worries. As Captain Ramius said, they are easy enough to detect and easier to disable. But what are you people going to do when a crop duster veers from its directed path in the heartlands of the Atlantic Federation breadbasket and sprays a fine mist of bacterial growth hormones across a thousand square hectacres of prime crops? Of course, this is not just a flight miscalculation... since the mist being sprayed is actually ebola 2... or 3... or some entirely new virus. Within a month the grain is shipped to the corners of the Atlantic Federation... a week after that and hundreds of thousands are infected... one week later and the death toll will be in the millions. It wouldn't be a difficult operation for the PLANTS... they could actually accomplish it easier with a low altitude orbital pod loaded with the germ. Figure ten million dollars in production and mechanical costs and the war is over in less than a half year, without a single shot being fired. And given it took PLANT doctors to cure the last Ebola... well... if they improved upon it there would nothing we Naturals could do to stop it, vice burning anyone who contracted it before they spread it further... wouldn't that be fun... the pyres for the diseased would probably be visible from Aprilus." Vlad paused again for effect.

Utter horror and disgust were written across most faces. Good. "Or to look at the other side of the coin... many pathways were utilized by myself and my former comrades to infiltrate the PLANTS for kill raids before the first war. Many were closed or discovered during or even before the war. But well over half remain. And thats just the ones I know of... who knows how many there actually are. It would take longer than the disease from heaven method, but with its new resources I'd say it's perfectly feasible for Blue Cosmos to begin large scale infiltration of the PLANTS. I am an accomplished killer... but I'm not unique. Imagine a hundred like me loose amongst the civilian population in the PLANTS. Overall death toll would be low... thousands maybe... but the effect on morale would be devastating, yes? And how hard would it be, really, to smuggle in a few briefcase nukes or poison gas canisters or germs... most will be caught and stopped... but it only takes a single miss, doesn't it? And Blue Comos has the numerical superiority to keep such attacks up for years, until eventually they start succeeding."

"And that is just the tip of the iceberg." Vlad said, warming to the subject. "Soon both sides will be sending hit teams after opposing leaders... of course national leaders can be replaced... but still the period of disruption that follows an assassination would provide a decided military advantage for the side doing the killing, even if only for days or hours. Or better yet... what will you do if terrorists from Earth attack a day care center in the PLANTS... babies make good targets for terrorists... what will you do then, in your mighty Gundams? Or if PLANTS operatives instigate a industrial accident which renders an entire major city into an uninhabitable wasteland... will your Gundam's wipe up the poison waste with huge mops? And then we get into the really vicious weapon... the media. I believe Miss Yula Attha and Mr. Zala have already suffered depredations from that vile institution... can you imagine how Blue Cosmos will warp everything the PLANTS do into an atrocity and vice versa... within weeks both sides will be clamoring for bigger and better ways to kill off the entire opposing side. And then... how will the media cover us, and you? Will they be kind to the merciful Archangel, come to stop the war from escalating out of control? Don't hold your breath, lest you suffocate as surely as my own fist was around your neck!" Vlad stripped off his gloves, baring the black metal skeletal fingers of his augmented implants. He clenched and unclenched them, letting the sound of roughened steel rubbing together with bone crushing force resonate across the bridge.

"We are currently in the grip of madmen, people who will do anything to win the war. We are trapped here, like this cup in my fist." Vlad said, picking up a aluminum thermos, which he promptly crumpled like paper. "We are trying to push the visible threat away, to prevent being ruptured like the cup was... but in doing so we ignore the far greater threat..." his left wrist snapped back and a thin shiv blade spun through the air to stick quivering in the window glass right next to Ysak's head. "Of a knife, cleverly hidden, in this case... or the media... the poison... the terrorist... the assassin... the plague... in the case of the world. You need to carefully consider that this war is not going to be nearly as pleasant as Jachin Due and Boaz were. In fact, this war is going to make both of those detestable battles look like a snowball fight in the schoolyard. We just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page... so that nobody was caught off guard when things go to shit. And they will go to shit. Soon. How will you respond when the terrorist puts the gun to the child's head? Or you see the plagued clamoring for aid in the streets of New New York? Or when the Chairman of the PLANTS drops dead with his skull blown apart. Or when both sides media brand you all as race traitors... the lowest scum, fit only to be executed along with all your families on sight?"

"Much as I hate to admit it... he has a pretty good point." Kisaka said after about a minute of uneasy glances being shared around. "I was brought up in the regular military, where even the thought of attacking civilians through diseases or poison or sabotage or assassination was unthinkable as a method for winning a war... but in a situation where weapons of mass destruction have already been believed to be used by both sides... as Andrew said before Jachin... once pulled once, a trigger becomes easier to pull every subsequent time. I have little doubt that if this war is allowed to escalate for as long as the last one did... well, I think Vladimir did quite a complete job of outlining what lies down that path."

"So not only do we have to stop both sides from annihilating each other with nukes... we have to try and end the war as quickly as possible before both sides start upping the ante?" Dearka said, disbelief in his voice. "And I thought the shit we had to do during the last war was impossible!"

"No one ever said it was going to be easy." Cagalli replied. "If you want out..."

"I didn't say that. I'm just griping a little."

"Well, thank you for bringing your concerns to our attention, Vladimir." Murrue cut in. "But before we start worrying about even the stuff for next week, we need to decide on our basic force allocations now, so we can form plans for later subsequently." she sat down in the captain's chair and started calling up information displays on the main screen. "I think I can say without going too far out on a limb that you'd prefer to have Cagalli on the Kusanagi. Since the Kusanagi has much more room for mobile suits I think we should keep most of the high maintenance suits there... hey, you know, I just realized I don't know anything about any of the mobile suits. Maybe someone else should be making the calls, hmm?"

"I think I'm going to stay here. No offense, Kisaka but the people I know best are on the Archangel." Kira said immediately. Kisaka nodded, unsurprised.

"I'm going to..." Athrun started to say.

"You are coming with me." Cagalli interrupted. "I'm not going to let you and Kira get together again and compound thoughts on winning the war all by yourselves. Or the selfless sacrificing bullshit you almost pulled last time. Besides, you and Kira are our two best pilots... we shouldn't put both of you on the same ship."

"Very logical argument for someone who would mainly just get unbearably horny if he were elsewhere." Dearka whispered very faintly in Miriallia's ear. She barely managed to stifle her giggle, drawing a suspicious look from Cagalli and a tolerant one from Athrun, who'd heard the little comment well enough.

"Dearka and I have to be assigned to the same ship since we're in the same machine." Miriallia said next. _And I might suffer a bit like Cagalli if we were seperated._ she admitted privately to herself. "Since Orb built the Grand Buster I would assume it has better facilities for it, I think we should go to the Kusanagi."

"Fine by me." Dearka agreed.

"So that means Ysak will stay on the Archangel with Kira and I." Lacus said. To Kira she sounded almost impercibtibly less than enthusiastic about that development, but he doubted anyone else would be able to pick up on it. Kira looked at Ysak, who was quite obviously more than a little unenthusiastic about the situation, but was unable to argue against common tactical sense... they couldn't put everyone on the Kusanagi.

"I guess that means we are staying on the Archangel too." Vladimir put in. "Since I doubt very much that Katie and Chanel will voluntarily leave Ysak's side and none of us will leave them alone here. No disrespect intended."

"That brings up another good point... who are you people? And can you do anything to help besides point out all the bad things we have to watch out for?" Murrue asked. Kisaka sighed and she turned to look at him.

"This is going to be another long story, but I suppose we should get it out of the way." Kisaka said wearily. "It started a few years before the last war..."


	48. Heart of Ice

"Yet another travesty of an engagement. I'm beginning to question the wisdom of continuing the BCPU project." Cervantes growled, leaning back in his office chair and staring into the video screen. The Doc looked back out of the screen at him from deep within the Andean mountains of South America, at Project JIHAD. "Almost every time we send them out on a mission, one of them... usually Frost... comes back with serious injuries and a totalled machine. Blue Cosmos has vast resources, as I'm sure you can appreciate. But that does not mean we can or will just throw funding around like confetti. I demand results... good results. And as yet, the BCPU's have only racked up one good result, at Washington DC. Do you have an explanation for their... history... of failure? As I recall from the last war, the prototype models performed at considerably less than design parameters as well."

The Doc stifled an impatient glare. Always it was the same with his sponsor... the man was a boor... drunk on his own power and influence and consumed by soul destroying hatred for almost everyone else. It seemed that a conversation could not go by without some allusion to a failing of one of the Doc's programs or studies, or even direct threats upon the health of the Doc himself. Never did the bastard call to compliment the Doc on a job well done, a product well delivered, a masterpiece well crafted... no, it was always this leering sarcasm and unsubtle threats. So he must explain one more time, it seemed.

"What you say is true, to an extent, sir. Almost every time we have sent the BCPU's out into combat they have come back damaged in some fashion, often seriously. However, the one time they did not come back in such a state was the one time they were deployed in total compliance with the protocols I had designed for their implementation. During that one deployment they functioned exactly like I said they would and produced more than excellent results,as I'm sure you can appreciate. The so called history of failure you spoke of is nothing more than the result of improperly applied procedure. The BCPU's were never designed for the sort of independent missions you insist on sending them on." The Doc sighed and clenched his fists inside his lab coat.

"Too much has been stripped from their humanity to ever trust them on solo missions... they invariably are overwhelmed by their conditioning and revert to instinct unless directly controlled by a firm hand. They are more like scapels than hammers... they should not be just thrown into battle to shatter the enemy, but rather used under focused and deliberating intention to cut through resistance and remove the enemy as their controller sees fit. In business terms, they need to be micromanaged to bring out their full potential. They are excellent followers... as independents or leaders their value is actually less than that of an unenhanced soldier. I told that to Mr. Azrael as well... he ignored me and thus his displeasure at the so called failings of the BCPU's."

"That sounds a bit like criticism for the much lamented Mr. Azrael. I'd keep such a thought to yourself, since few within Blue Cosmos are as tolerate of critique as I am." Cervantes said, steepling his fingers. It was always a chore, lecturing the Doc. The blasted man was far too smart to just browbeat... Cervantes would invariably say something the seedy little man would be able to turn around on him, until Cervantes was so frustrated that he'd forget the main stream of the conversation entirely. And... damn him... he was too vital to Blue Cosmos to just eliminate, or even threaten too much. The Doc could call any bluff Cervantes chose to offer... as long as he continued to supervise and create such projects as JIHAD and the BCPU's, the Doc could not be killed without putting the greater goals of Blue Cosmos in dire jeopardy... in a way the Doc was actually more vital to Blue Cosmos than Cervantes himself was.

Another leader could always be found... many men had soul and drive. Few had the brains to manufacture weapons that were superior to those the Coordinators possessed. "So we need to keep a closer watch over them, is what you are telling me? That we need to split them up into small groups under near total supervision. That limits their fluidity and adaptability unacceptably, don't you think? I thought they were supposed to be the ultimate soldier, able to adapt to any battlefield situation and turn it to their advantage."

"You wanted ultimate soldiers? That's not what I heard you and Mr. Azreal say. I distinctly remember you telling me to create a weapon that would kill Coordinators better than Coordinators could kill Naturals. If it is soldiers you want, BCPU's are not where you should look. They have superhuman physical and mental abilities... but they lack the personality and humanity... the soul, you might say... to be good soldiers. They can analyze data, but in terms of being able to extrapolate more than a few minutes ahead... they cannot. They are creatures of the instant... living from moment to moment. They fight one enemy at a time, with no regard to the future more than the number of enemies that can be killed at one time. What the BCPU's are is the ultimate killers... a small but very important distinction from soldiers. Soldiers fight wars, but then they go home afterwards because they have a solid place in the world... they fight for reasons, for causes, conquering their fear and baser emotions and even channeling them to increase their chances of victory. Because they fear they work out plans and strategies to enhance their chances... they improvise to meet a long term goal, always clawing for that fingernail edge that will keep them alive while the enemy bleeds out on the ground." The Doc lectured, as if speaking to a young student.

"BCPU's fight wars because that is what they are created to do... they have no other place in the world... no past to go back to... no family... no loved ones... no friends. They fight because they are told to and because they want to... because we want them to, and we condition them to want to. The don't feel fear... indeed, Frost IS fear, more than any other entity I have ever seen. They have no motivation besides the desire to kill to force them to improvise... and so they improvise, but only on an instant scale... a blow to blow scale. BCPU's don't even really care about dying... the main thing that seperates them from humanity... in pursuit of a goal a human will break off if he takes a mortal wound he can save himself from, before he reaches the goal, to try again later at another time. A BCPU does no such thing... they save themselves after they reach a goal... if then." the Doc continued, fighting to keep the exasperation out of his voice. People never could make up their minds about what they wanted... one reason he liked the BCPU's... they were constant in their desires and feelings.

"I'll take your words under advisement." Cervantes allowed, in truth just too worn out to muster the spite to continue the argument. He may not have been an official world leader, but he was in reality up to his eyebrows in the mechanisms of the war. Alliance high command didn't take a shit without clearing it with him first... and while the feeling of power was enjoyable the tedium and frustration were starting to wear on him. He felt like he'd aged ten years since the start of the war... and while his physique had yet to be affected he could feel his internal mechanisms acting up... joints ached, bouts of indigestion, frequent headaches... the works. He also wasn't seeing nearly enough of the really important people in his life. He hadn't seen Vanai in the flesh for more than three weeks, and Sai for about a week. Even Asmodeus hadn't actually been in his presence since the day before yesterday. He hadn't even had time for one of his many mistresses... Vanai's mother was long dead and he had never desired to be remarried, and there was never a shortage of beautiful women attracted to his personal power so there was no real need for a wife... he'd been sleeping in the comfortable if not often used suite of rooms behind his office.

The last week had been a nearly constant blur of video meetings, conference calls, report reading and brief interludes of sleep. And things only stood to get more hectic as the war went on... already new offensives were being organized on almost a dozen terrestrial fronts while the Lunar forces were rapidly being whipped into shape to better confront the PLANTS on their home territory. The loss of Gibraltar had crippled ZAFT efforts to reclaim the mediterranean area, so that was good at least... one less fortress of monsters on the planet to be cleansed. But ZAFT had been successful pretty much everwhere else... a similar tactic had been repulsed at Carpenteria and now ZAFT controlled almost the entire southern Pacific ocean and much of the Indian ocean as well. ZAFT had also made inroads in the middle eastern regions and parts of northern Eurasia, but nothing major. Still, now ZAFT had a solid foothold on the Earth, through which they could pour reinforcements to prolong the ground war. That was a situation that needed to be rectified as soon as possible. "Very well. I'd like a progress report, if you'd be so kind, Mr. Borander."

The Doc glared at Cervantes Zunnichi, not bothering to hide his ire this time. "Don't call me by my name. If you must call me something, you may call me Doctor or Doc, as everyone else does. The only people who are allowed to call me by name are my family."

Cervantes sneered back at the Doc... the use of his name had needled him, just as Cervantes had known it would... for some reason the man loathed being called by name. Cervantes usually made an effort to humor him, because of his value to Blue Cosmos, but right now he was just too tired to care much, and seeing someone else get pissed made him perversely happy. "My apologies." Cervantes said, sounding insincere even to his own ears. "Pray continue with your update, Doctor."

"Very well... Mr. Zunnichi. Frost is healing well... and quickly. As I noted before he seems to be bouncing back from injuries faster and faster... the result of his body not only adapting to his biological and mechanical augmentations, but in fact incorporating them more fully into his own biologic structure. This is exactly what I predicited would happen, given the nature of the implants, so I am pleased by this result... and even a little frightened. The damage Frost took during the last battle should have killed even him... but now he will be ready for combat in two days time... a total recovery time of five days... incredible even with the highly advanced care facilities we have. It may come to the point where Frost will have to be eliminated, because the more fully the implants are integrated into his natural body, the less controllable he will become. We have time... my most cautious estimates indicate at least five years leeway... but the situation must be acknowledged. The other BCPU's were not injured during the battle and are thus still at fully ready capacity. Cray is itching for a good battle... I recommend you install him into a major offensive against heavy resistance. Ashino is much as he always is... calm, quiet, focused... I think he will best be utilized in a small but vital action... a raid on a command post or something like that."

"Once Frost heals... I recommend sending him on a hit and run assault against as juciy a target as he can find. The kill need is building to catastrophic levels within him... he has become addicted to inflicting death... he focuses on Lacus Clyne and her boyfriend as targets for his hate, you may be interested to know... but if he is not allowed to kill the enemy within a day or two of healing, make no mistake, he will kill someone here. Probably several someones. Maybe as many as a dozen or more." the Doc answered confidently. He turned and called up the status report on his own computer screen... an unessecary movement that allowed him to hide his smile of pride. Some would call it sick to be proud of Frost, but the Doc knew better. Frost was a devil given human form... and the Doc was the god who'd made him. It was a heady feeling and he took more pride in Frost's accomplishments than for any other BCPU... they were all his sons, in a way, but Frost was the favored child... though he likely wouldn't believe it. Doc loved Frost because Frost was exactly what the Doc had intended to make... it's natural for a father to love a son who is shaped by the father... and Frost had been shaped by the Doc in a way that was almost primal.

"As for the rest of the BCPU crop, within the next three months you will have the first BCPU 2's and 3's ready for tenative deployment to front line units. As of the moment there are only fifteen in the final class, but within two months of the first graduation, and every two months afterwards, another twenty five BCPU's will be ready for deployment. Within the year you will have enough to make a significant difference on the field of battle, even if they are only piloting Crusaders. If properly supervised they will become nearly as effective weapons as the greater BCPU's. As for material, well the Bane and Merciless are of course ready to go, rearmed and refueled. The Fury is still undergoing repair but it should be ready by the time the pilot is. Two additional Purifier's have been completed as well. As yet they have no qualified pilots, but I was thinking of using them as rewards for the highest performing BCPU 2 or 3 in any given class. The Judgment is just now 80 percent complete. We do not yet have a pilot worthy of the Judgment either... in truth I wouldn't trust it to a being of lesser capability than Ashino... preferably Cray or Frost. In all tests the Judgment is performing at or exceeding specifications. It is of course not the most mobile of mobile suits... it lumbers in all simulations, to be honest. But the firepower... oh the firepower. We completed a forty percent power test on the three hundred centimeter positron cannon that will be equipped on the right arm and hand... I shall send you the video. It must be seen to be believed. Other than those highlights, everything else is proceeding according to schedule."

"That's very satisfactory, Doctor. I look forward to better results in the future." Cervantes ended the call with a smile. The smile faded as he called up the most recent set of plans submitted for his approval by the Alliance generals in charge of the terrestrial campaign. "Idiots." Cervantes muttered. "Always stalling for caution... don't they realize we have to hit them and keep hitting them as hard as possible so that they do not have time to soliditate? These fools just don't seem to realize that despite our great numerical superiority, we are the less powerful force. The enemy has the advantages of advanced technology, solid morale, well established chain of command and logistics, higher ground and maneuverability. If we don't keep them off balance now, while we have the chance, we will lose the war. The PLANTS are no longer coming from behind, leaping to create a solid military force... now they have one and all they need to do is apply it to win. This calls for drastic action." Cervantes was thinking aloud without realizing it.

Not that it mattered, there was no one else to hear and even if someone did... anyone who could was a subordinate to him. "We need to strike a hammer blow... a roundhouse kick to the balls to follow up the sucker punch at Gibraltar. We need to put ZAFT on the turf where we can whomp the hell out of him with our greater mass. I think I know just the thing... Australia is a fairly useless continent anyway... no one of import lives there and this is the second time in two wars that they have sided against the rest of the world. But Australia will be just a trap... a battle to draw in their forces. It will be the feint which keeps them standing in one place, legs wide to recieve our real kick... another surprise attack on the civilian PLANTS. It is, after all, difficult to recruit for a military when there are no civilians left. And little enough to fight for besides revenge when your family is dead... and revenge never wins a war... only escalates it further, which is exactly what we need." Cervantes started typing revisions into the strategies, confident in the knowledge that the commanders would do exactly like he told them to.

"We start with what will appear to be a full on charge into the enemy main line. I think bringing in the Atlantic Federation 4th through 7th fleets along with the Eurasian 3rd and 5th fleet, the South American 2nd fleet and the Orb protectorate 1st, 2nd and 3rd fleets will be enough to convince ZAFT that we are making a major push to throw them off our planet. Which we are. Why would they think anything else, with more than one hundred thousand troops being committed to a single battle... it will be the largest battle in a hundred years. Assuming ZAFT manages to interdict the three waves of Long Range Ballistic Strategic Nuclear Missiles that will precede the attack... enough nuclear warheads to level all of Australia to the radioactive bedrock. They probably will though... at least most of them... Coordinators always seem to have the devil's own luck when it comes to escaping their rightful destruction. Meanwhile or even a little before the main attack, secondary assaults will be underway in the middle east and northern Eurasia, to deny ZAFT the toeholds they have gained there."

"In space, the twelth lunar fleet will circle around the dark side of the moon and come in on a long ballistic trajectory towards the back side of the PLANTS... in lower power stealth mode if possible. I don't expect them to go unnoticed, but with the hectic battle taking place over Australia I doubt the PLANTS will have many spare forces to send to investigate. Until it is too late, of course. I think hitting the Maius PLANTS will send the right message... cripple their manufactory capability along with their morale. The twelth lunar fleet will likely be wiped out in the attack... their sacrifice will be remembered. These plans must be implemeted with all possible haste... we need to strike the first blow in the second round of this war. Within a month if possible. In support of that I will be sending both Frost and Cray into the Australian front, under supervision by Asmodeus. Ashino will assist in the Eurasias, to help cement our backcountry."

"Now, as long as the PLANTS don't do anything too unexpected, our mobilization should go without a hitch. Of course, they probably will do something. Attack Orb or Hawaii, likely... if they could knock out both it would secure for them the entire Pacific ocean and leave the western flank of the Atlantic Federation bare of protection... an easy route into the unthinkable... a ground war on the mainland of the old United States... an event which has not occured in more than six hundred years. And will not occur for six hundred more, god willing." Cervantes leaned back in his chair. He reviewed the orders mentally, searching for any glaring flaws. Finding none, he smiled a lion's smile and pressed "send".


	49. World Wide War

The ZAFT patrol was picking it's way lightly through the forest... well as lightly as a pair of BuCue's could anyway. Which was surprisingly stealthily, the big four legged machines managed to move through the thinly spaced trees with a modicrum of decorm, crushing only the occasional bush and knocking only a few limbs from their trunks. Of course it helped that the undergrowth down in the valley was much lighter than the near jungle that carpeted the slopes, which did a much better job of hiding the stationary and in some cases prone Strike Daggers and Strike Crusaders that made up the 15th detached mobile division of the Earth Alliance armed forces special operations unit. Painted in forest camouflage colors and outfitted with the latest in vehicle stealth systems, the twenty five mobile suit unit was one of the most elite mobile suit units the Earth Alliance could field, equivalent to the Moebius Zero squadrons of the last war. Each and every pilot in the 15th had at least two confirmed ZAFT kills, some made with mobile armors but most with mobile suits.

The unit as a whole had never participated in a losing engagement, though they had been out of rotation during the battle of GENESIS. After the lunar fleet was mostly wiped out by GENESIS they were one of the most veteran units in the entirity of the Earth Alliance Military. They were set up in ambush positions on both sides of the mountain valley, deep within the mountains of Northeastern Eurasia. However, for this mission they would not be ambushing a mere patrol... they were the advance unit for a major offensive that was due to be launched on the ZAFT prefabricated base that had been dropped from low orbit during the first few days of the war. The base had been sited, for unknown reasons, within a sheltered and isolated valley near the center of the range, near an abandoned and dug out mining facility. Tacticians had initially designated the base a supply depot, but an unusual amount of activity was noticed by observers. Far more troops and much more material was going into the base than was going out. Finally, an infiltration team of EFSOU operatives had penetrated the base's security and learned the truth.

ZAFT had long possessed scale technology... a technology which utilized the vibration and motion of tiny scale like flanges on the bottom and sides of vehicles to propel them through water or soft sand or mud or the like. The technology was most famous in its utilization by the Lessups class land battleships, but ZAFT submarine carriers and lesser land ships also used the same system. However, until recently vehicles equipped with the technology had been limited to water or regions of very loose sediment... more firm terrain stymied the scale vibrations and slowed the vehicles considerably, even stopping them altogether in locations with lots of stone. But the EFSOU team discovered that ZAFT scientists had managed to come up with an improved new scale system that worked on solid rock, even hard igneous rock like granite and basalt, much like the old system worked on water. Combined with massive drills and laser borering machines, massive transports had been built that could carry five mobile suits each comfortably under the ground to target points before bursting from the ground like deadly moles to unleash their deadly cargo. The Earth Alliance had no counter... the very idea of giant burrowing war machines was somewhat ludicrous even after their existence was verified... and so it was determined that the machines needed to be destroyed and the project halted before it could go any further before ZAFT could utilize either.

And of course it would significantly reduce ZAFT's forces in the area as well, making the diversionary assaults planned to coincide with the Australian Maneuver due to take place in two weeks time. The Australian Maneuver was the talk of the unit, like it was for pretty much the entire military. An offensive of the scale that the operation was rumored to be had not been seen for hundreds of years. rumor said entire divisions and fleets were being consolidated into one giant hammer to smash ZAFT right off their main base, Carpentaria. After this mission, the 15th was due to muster in India for that assault. They were going in at the head of the wave and they were looking forward to it. But first they had to provide yet another distraction... they would attack the base while another EFSOU unit slipped in from the other side of the mountains and broke into the mines, stealing any data possible and leaving behind a man portable thermonuclear bomb. Once the bomb was in place the 15th would withdraw and let the ZAFT base and its tunneling machines go up in a huge atomic fireball.

The 15th's commander looked at his watch and compared it to the mission chronometer display of his Strike Crusader. Both were perfectly synchronized and both were indicating the same thing. Mission Go. he looked down at the valley... the ZAFT patrol was a good two kilometers away and receding... far enough away that they would not be able to immediately flank his unit. "All units... Go code. We want this loud and flashy. Keep their eyes on us... then we can watch the big time loud and flashy from the transports." He then opened a channel to the EFSOU team across the base. "The raven flies at midnight." he radioed, the code words that would start the team on its infiltration.

"The raven flies at midnight?" Alkire said, incredulous. "Who the hell makes up that sort of crap? Their dispatcher must be watching too many cheap spy thrillers." He was wearing the headset rig that had formerly belonged to the leader of the EFSOU team he and the members of TEMPEST had intercepted two hours previously. The Archangel was lying in wait about a day's hard hike away, though only ten minutes flight time, hidden as well as a three hundred and fifty meter warship could be in the mountains. They had heard reports through Andrew Waltfeld that ZAFT was conducting a major buildup at this seemingly isolated base and so they had decided to drop by and see what was up. _Well, Captain Ramius decided... with a great deal of advice from Kira and Lacus._ Alkire thought with a mental sigh and shake of his head. He respected the good captain... her survival record was impeccable, something he always found reassuring in a commander, but she had her faults too. One of which was a humanitarian streak wider than her ship which synched almost perfectly with the ideals of Lacus and Kira. She was a crusading idealist in Alkire's opinion, always spouting off about trust and working together and a bunch of other bullshit that would have been real nice to listen to before the war broke out, when it might have actually made a difference.

But she was also the captain of the warship and so what she said went. But Alkire had had enough when Kira and Lacus decided that they should merely observe from a distance and make sure nothing went wrong... the EA was sure to come in hard and heavy on such a tempting ZAFT target in their own backyard and Kira was worried they might try nukes again... the area was isolated and scarcely populated enough that Alkire could see the reasoning for that. If he was in charge he might have done something of the sort. But Kira had flat refused to do more than watch until trouble started... and that didn't sit well with Alkire. Nothing good ever came of waiting for the enemy to act first. So he had asked permission to take TEMPEST out on a scouting mission to "investigate the base for obvious weaknesses". In truth he would have gone anyway, but it was best to operate with your "superiors" at least believing they were in control. Tended to foster a greater sense of trust and comraderie. Things which were in short supply on the Archangel.

It wasn't that the kids weren't fitting in, or that the Desert Dawn guys and the regular Orb soldiers weren't getting along... no they were getting along together just fine. They all worked together with the sort of clockwork precision found in only the most elite and highly motivated units. Morale was sky high and everyone was happy. Except for TEMPEST. Vlad's explanation of himself to Waltfeld had of course been heard by most of the bridge crew present and despite strict orders from Ramius to keep things low key, the story had spread around the ship with lightning speed. Pretty soon Vlad found himself getting quite the cold shoulder... few wanted to pal around with a mass murderer. A few of the more Coordinator rights type people had even tried to provoke fistfights with him. All of which he had ignored or done his best to talk his way out of. Of course, Vlad never was the best with his words and a fight had broken out anyway. Vlad versus three mechanics. Then Vlad vs four master at arms who had shown up to break up the fight. Then Vlad vs about half the hanger bay who decided to jump in to help their friends. Vlad had done his best to restrain himself... it would hardly be fair to go all out against untrained enemies... especially when the enemies were allies.

He didn't kill anyone, though a few of the more persistent attackers had been laid up in the infirmary for more than a week now nursing multiple broken bones. Alkire had been impressed, in a similar situation he was sure he would have been forced to kill at least four or five assaliants in order to walk out victorious. Ramius, Kira and Lacus had been less impressed. And much more angry. Though the incident was provably not Vlad's fault they still ruled on isolating him from the rest of the crew. For his own safety of course. More likely the safety of the crew but Alkire hadn't had the energy for an argument at the time. Things since then had been tense between TEMPEST and pretty much everyone else. Alkire still hadn't patched things up with Kira and Lacus and it didn't look like things were going to get better for waiting either. The other TEMPEST members had also been having their own problems fitting in with everyone else... James was too outgoing in his boasting about missions undertaken, especially the attack on Victoria, which most everyone else considered a terrible battle that should never have been fought... Victor brought his usual cutting sarcasm and general unfriendliness to the table... and Raine had broken four of a man's fingers and three of his toes when he made a pass at her in the gym.

Ysak was fitting in reasonably well, on the plus side. He was a surly bastard, but everyone already knew that and besides... he was Kira and Lacus's friend, wasn't he? The crew gave him a wide berth and a big kudos just from that. They helped out with maintenance on the Duelist when they could and obediantly scampered off when Ysak wanted to do his own work. Chanel and Katie were also big hits... as expected from two beautiful teenage girls on a ship full of war tense soldiers. A few crewmembers had made passes of their own at them, often just for fun, but after Ysak nearly trashed a fellow and Katie dislocated another's shoulder, that sort of thing died down. It was now a well known fact that Katie and Chanel were with Ysak... both of them, unfair as some of the younger crewmembers thought that was. Anyone who wanted different could bring it up with them... but better have a few friends to carry his limp body to the infirmary afterwards. Kira and Lacus of course fitted right in like hands in a custom glove. The crew loved them both like cherished children or siblings. They wouldn't hear a bad word spoken about them and considered their words to have almost golden weight and gravity. It had initially annoyed Alkire, but after a few days he had just stopped trying to care.

Now it was with almost bitter joy that he considered the carefully concealed mustering point around him. Joy because of a mission well done. Bitter because Kira was going to get pissed at him again and so the ship would too. _"Why did you have to kill them all?"_ Kira would ask. _"You should have just come back and warned us so we could have stopped them without any loss of life. No one needed to die today."_ Alkire found his lip twisting. The kid didn't learn. The world around them was not in synch with what he wanted it to be. Why did Alkire and TEMPEST kill the EFSOU team? General principle but also because they were obviously planning harm to the ZAFT forces in the base. The big metal case Victor was currently working on disarming was obviously, even from first sight, a bomb of considerable power. A man carried nuke, Victor had identified it after the shooting stopped. What exactly a mobile suit would be used to do to prevent a carried and remotely detonated bomb from exploding Alkire didn't know and he strongly suspected Kira would be strapped for an answer too.

Ambushing the EFSOU team had been surprisingly easy. Even with only a few hours knowledge of the terrain Alkire and Vladimir had deduced which route the enemy was most likely going to take across the mountains for a flanking attack. Of course, Alkire had served in EFSOU, so he knew well their mission parameters and usual formations... he hadn't specifically known that there would be a team in place for an operation but he would have been very shocked to find that the base was under no observation at all. With satellite observation a thing of the past accurate intelligence was back in the ball court of the special forces... both sides likely had teams of watchers in round the clock observation of all major bases of the other side, so they could try to find out about any troop movements or events which might provide a very slight edge... or more than a slight edge in some cases... in the future. Alkire had brought TEMPEST towards the base on the path he would have taken if he were really sneaking in to observe the base and lo and behold, within a few minutes they had stumbled upon very faint traces of recent passage. Less than a hunted animal would leave, but Vladimir could track like few other men alive could even conceive of.

It helped of course that the EFSOU guys had been lugging the big bomb... such a heavy and bulky object would not normally be carried by an observation or insertion team and it had both slowed their progress and increased their travel sign. After four hours of alert quick march Vladimir had located the EFSOU camp-blind-rest area and the rest had been tactics. EFSOU had been nervous, alert as only troops deep within enemy territory without close support and with a vital mission could be. They were elite soldiers, among the best produced by the special forces schools of Eurasia and the Atlantic Federation, or else mercenaries hardened by lifetimes of such missions. There were twelve of them, all heavily armed with the latest EFSOU gear. Each was easily the match of a Coordinator or even several Coordinators depending on their level of training. None had stood more chance than a campfire in a blizzard.

Vlad and his garrote had removed the three rear sentries with only a few minutes work. He would pop down from a tree branch and slip the metal noose around their necks and with a quick heave they would be up in the boughs with him, head already half severed by the wire loop. Only once did one even manage to twitch before being killed. None likely ever figured out what happened. With their rear exposed the fight had pretty much been over. Raine had set up in another tree with a good line of fire and had picked off the man carrying the bomb detonator right off the bat. James had flushed them out with a long machine gun burst and Victor had taken most of them down with a well placed shaped charge mine he'd had Vlad plant in the middle of the camp. Alkire and Raine had mopped up the remaining surprised and disoriented survivors in less than a minute.

From the first sentry killed to the last shot fired the entire ambush had taken less than five minutes... most of which was taken up by Vladimir moving positions while killing the sentries. Now they were done policing the site for all expended brass and Victor looked to be nearly done with his demo work... as Alkire watched he slipped a few satchel charges into the bomb container, twisted a timer dial and then shoved it into the mallable plastic explosive. "We're done here. In fifteen minutes there will be one less nuke in the arsenal of the EA." Victor reported sharply. Alkire nodded... no need to question Victor on explosive matters. Some might have worried that the explosives destroying the bomb would have also set it off, but if Victor wasn't worried about that then neither would Alkire be. He looked around. Everyone else was packing up and prepared to move out.

"Maybe we should keep this little party to ourselves? An uneventful patrol?" Alkire said, half joking.

"I'm fine with that. What the kids don't know won't hurt them." Raine replied. Vlad just shrugged. Victor nodded agreement as well.

"I suppose I can keep quiet about it... I kinda get the feeling the rest of the crew isn't real big on my stories anyhow." James put in.

Alkire smiled. "This is how prevention should be handled... quietly, permanently and without any fuss. Nobody but us and the Alliance high command is ever going to know about this little mission and how it failed. Perfect deniability for both sides... everyone goes away happy."

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And so it went... for the next three weeks the crews of the Archangel and Kusanagi went to war against war itself. It wasn't an easy struggle by any means. By comparison, escaping from Heliopolis and being pursued to Earth was a walk in a summer park. But they prevailed upon themselves to put forth the effort. They did, after all, have the people of the world and indeed the fate of the world hanging in the balance. Of course, things did not all go their way. Indeed, it could easily be said that most things did not go their way. They were just two ships and a handful of mobile suits all together... they made an impact, strong and positive, wherever and whenever they showed up... but they could only show up in so many places at once. Each ship and indeed each pilot had their own plan for how the war against war was to be fought and while for the most part these ideas meshed, there was inevitable friction. Most notably between Kira, Lacus and the members of TEMPEST, but everyone had little fights now and again. And the fights did not come merely on the battlefield either... being in a war, even as non full time combatants, put stress on every aspect of life... most especially the romantic side.

When potentially every mission was a hit or die fight against weapons of mass destruction people tended to cling to each other more desperately in between missions and have short tempers as well. Everyone had to perform at their absolute best every time or everyone might die. When the inevitable happened and some people did not meet expectations, often harsh words were exchanged. even blows, a few times, though most physical altercations were quickly brought under control. They could ill afford open conflict within their own ranks, try as it might to manifest itself at times. If they were divided against themselves they could hardly hope to stop a divided world from plunging into darkness, could they? And the world was indeed plunging... every battle was more hair raising than the last, involving more soldiers, more weapons, more new technology and all applied with less restraint each time as well. Everything was building to a dangerously explosive head for when the Australian Maneuver was due to be executed... no one knew when, not even the highest ranking members of the Alliance, but everyone knew it was soon. And that when it happened it would not be insignificant, no matter what it actually was intended to do.

Of the couples, Kira and Lacus were perhaps the most stable during this time, perhaps not surprising considering their shared conviction that what they were doing really was in the best interest of the world as a whole. No situation was too grim, no battle too hopeless for Kira to intervene in and he often wore himself out, flying from battle zone to battle zone to battle zone in what Ysak half jokingly called "Liberty Binges", desperately trying to save as much of the world as he could. Though it pained her to see Kira pushing himself so hard, Lacus had little enough space to worry... while the love of her life risked his neck and her heart on a daily basis on the ever shifting battlefields, she spent each day sequestered for long hours in a conference room aboard the Archangel, holding press meetings via teleconference and meeting with supporters of the peace efforts both worldwide and in space in a similar manner. She was risking something far more precious to their mission than just her life... she was risking her good image with the people of the PLANTS, who were, as a majority, behind the continuation of the war as it currently was, unlike last time.

She was still immensely popular of course and her words carried a great deal of weight with a generation that had grown up idolizing and trusting her, but she could only do so much from the Earth aboard the Archangel... words did not have as much impact when delievered from a TV screen and it was much harder to get across the depth of her concerns through a radio. Things were much worse on Earth, where the government reacted with nearly violent action against her broadcasts, jamming them whenever possible and starting their own public rally's against her and her followers. There were even terrorist incidents in which people who supported Lacus Clyne were killed with police standing by, doing nothing. It was depressing, even to Lacus's nearly indomitable spirit. But whenever she felt down, Kira was always there to lift her up again, just like she was always there to calm him after the nightmares that were returning with greater frequency and greater impact every night. There was nothing wrong with their relationship, which only grew stronger and stronger with each passing trial and tribulation they were forced to endure. It was plain to anyone who saw them together that there were few people more suited for and deserving of each other than them.

Athrun and Cagalli were less stable, perhaps not surprising considering their more aggressive personalities. Cagalli could not help but want to spend most of her time protecting her nation,Orb from taking any more damage than necessary. However, while Kisaka was in charge of the Kusanagi and would listen to her arguments, which were more like demands veiled in fragments of logic, even Cagalli would admit, Athrun was in charge of when the mobile suits actually deployed. And while he of course sympathized with her completely, his tactical sense and sense of responsibilty to the rest of the world would not allow him to always protect Orb first. Which led to several very heated arguments, both in public and in private. One such quarrel actually ended up with a bloody nose and cheek palm print for Athrun and a twisted wrist and forehead scrape for Cagalli, earned when she'd slapped him for denying her launch clearance and then followed it up with a sucker punch.

He'd been forced to restrain her by twisting her arm behind her back and pinning her against a bulkhead to keep her from trying to take off anyway. When they learned that the battle she had wanted to intervene in had ended up with heavy Orb losses, she had tossed him out of their room for three days before relenting and acknowledging that even if they had been there the outcome would have been little different... ZAFT had come in with overwhelming force and hadn't used WMD's, so even she would have had a tough time justifying intervening once she was actually there. Of course, their ups more than made up for the down spots and they too grew much closer together both as a couple and as members of a fighting team. It soon became a byword on both sides of the battlefield that if a pair of bright red mobile suits showed up, you might as well just surrender since you weren't going to win. And god help you if you actually attacked one.

Dearka and Miriallia had a few problems... Dearka almost proposed at least four times... once before each major battle they participated in, but chickened out each time and left Miriallia hanging each time. Finally, she grew so fed up with the practice that she actually left him. For a period of exactly four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and forty six seconds. Then, after finding herself unable to get to sleep because of thinking about him and thus run ragged, much less able to operate effectively in the shared cockpit, she had proposed to him. Dumbfounded but secretly happy that someone had found the balls to do it, Dearka had accepted, glad Ysak was halfway across the world and unable to witness the event, since he never would have heard the end of it. Dearka kept meaning to buy a ring or two, but never found the time... after accepting the proposal he found the battles just seemed to keep coming one right after the other. And not all the battles were fought outside the cockpit. Miriallia was a patient girl, with nearly limitless tolerance for the idosyncrasies of others and a good handle on dealing with both her's and other people's emotions.

Dearka was a witty and kind hearted guy who would risk anything to help out his friends or advance the cause he believed in. After the first ten minutes of their first battle together, even before the proposal they had almost stopped talking to each other out of frustration. Both saw why dual person mobile suits were so rare... it was tough enough handling the stresses of combat when it was just you alone in a cockpit... it was infinitely worse when there was someone else in there with you, able to hear you yelp and scream and curse and make comments. But they were persistent... they worked their way slowly through the problem... Dearka learned not to swear quite so violently when avoiding enemy fire and Miriallia learned how to stifle a scream of alarm whenever she saw an ally get hit. Neither had yet managed to get a grasp on keeping their opinions entirely to themselves when they were hit themselves, but they were working on it. And truth be told, their combat effectiveness was quite alarming to their enemies, espcially teamed with Athrun and Cagalli... no battle that all four of them participated in ever resulted in anything but an optimum scenario for their side... few casualties and no WMD's used for both the Alliance and ZAFT.

Ysak's relationships with Chanel and Katie were... well, stable wasn't ever a word that could be applied, but ceasefire would be a good way of putting it. The girls were used to having Ysak's undivided attention whenever they wanted it and now they did not have it. Ysak may not have bought in to the whole crusading to save the world idea, but he was more than happy to fight whenever the opportunity presented itself, to hone his skills if nothing else. And if he stopped a few WMD's in the process, well so much the better. He made up a large portion of the gap that seperated his skills from Kira's during this time and while he never could seem to master the berserker mode Kira could slip into at need, he felt he was a match for the purple eyed softy any other time. He never managed to actually find out, since Kira wasn't in to the whole fighting for fun or even training thing... and they were much too busy most of the time anyway. When he was in Katie and Chanel's good graces and they were in his... an conflux of events that was rarer than he liked... he allowed them to serve as auxilary mechanics for the Duelist, teaching them what he knew about mobile suit maintenance, with Chief Murdoch's gruff help.

Else they would teach him more things about unarmed combat or even noncombat oriented things. They were still teenage girls, if abnormal ones to say the least. Chanel had a passion for music and was reasonably good at playing the violin while Katie nursed a love of drawing and art, perferring manga style drawings like those found in oriental comics. Her favorite subject was of course, Ysak, whom she drew in a bewildering variety of outfits and expressions, few of which Ysak found better than fanciful. Though it was a well kept secret that he pinned a few of the better drawn ones up in his cockpit and inside his uniform locker. However, such blissful moments were rare... as Dearka could readily tell anyone, Ysak did not take long to get on almost everyone's nerves and he even snapped at Chanel and Katie several times. Especially whenever they tried to bring up a particularly heartfelt and sore subject for them, which Ysak flat out refused to listen to. They wanted desperately to tell him all about why they were so special, why they acted the way they did, but every time they started to tell him he just ignored them, or worse made a joke of it. He just didn't want to hear anything about how they had found or avoided him at the beach in Orb. It was the one stain of darkness on an otherwise shining relationship... but it was a stain that was growing with every day and could not be swept under the carpet forever. All three of them knew that eventually things were going to come bursting out from one corner of the triangle and none of them knew what would happen after that.

TEMPEST got along well within its own group and with a few select other people... notably Ysak. Their philosophy clashed with pretty much everyone else's they were around, and so did their methods. They never participated in any large scale battles, but whenever a juicy piece of information would surface about a ZAFT buildup or a new Alliance technology was being utilized they would "borrow" a transport and disappear for a day or two... returning with weary smiles, much lighter ammunition belts and sometimes wounds. No one managed to find out exactly where they went or what they did when the got there, but usually an Alliance general or ZAFT elite pilot would show up dead a few days later, or a supply base would be blown up when they were gone or a transport ship would sink in the middle of a harbor or some other event that spoke of an unseen hand or hands at work. No one could deny that what they were doing was effective... one such transport ship sunk had a cargo of nuclear missiles aboard that would have likely been used against ZAFT. But no one liked it much either... especially when senior military and even civilian goverment officials would turn up dead, with bullets in their heads or stab wounds in their backs or worst of all, garrote marks on their necks.

Vladimir was always given a wide berth... and often a casual spit behind the back when they thought he wasn't aware. He didn't mind, since he knew he deserved it. And if they wanted to hate him for the things they found out about, he didn't begrudge them. Better that than for the things they didn't know about... the morale caravans ambushed and wiped out, the soldiers killed sleeping in their barracks, the poisoned food and water, the booby trapped medical supplies and the random victims of attacks of opportunity. The Archangel and the news of the world only found out about maybe one in three or four things TEMPEST was actually up to... but Blue Cosmos certainly felt the sting... so did ZAFT, the few times it had been necessary to attack them. When not out on missions TEMPEST worked to help out as much as possible, each in their own way. Alkire made himself available for planning and strategy sessions, though his advice was not called on often. He also traine dup on piloting the skygrasper, though he had yet to pilot it into battle. Raine taught marksmanship and unarmed combat to anyone who wanted to learn and had plenty of time extra to spend with her adopted little sisters. Victor taught Ysak a little bit of fencing, though neither put much heart into it. James actually struck up at least a partial friendship with Murdoch, who was unable to dislike the giant, friendly and outspoken commando, even though he did not approve of what the man did. They may not have fit in, but TEMPEST definitely made their presence known and their worth felt.

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On the other side of the battlefield Cervantes Zunnichi schemed and planned and shouted and preached and did everything within all his power to expand his influence over the war, quite successfully too, so that by the time the Australian Maneuver was nigh, he had operational control over nearly 90 percent of the EA military. He was the Joint Chief of Staff for the military in all but title... more supreme commander than the president of the Atlantic Federation was. He orchestrated every major attack leading up to his knockout punch, and a good deal of the minor ones too. Blue Cosmos expanded its influence to epic proportions during this time... soldiers had even taken to wearing Blue Cosmos pins openly on their uniforms in many units. Coordinator rights groups and pacifist organizations were firebombed, terrorized and destroyed without mercy or succor from the law, until such a time no one dared publicaly speak out against Blue Cosmos's policies, and those who spoke privately did so very softly. Orb was the focal point for Coordinator rights and pacifist groups and was in a near constant state of martial law, with police teams and Blue Cosmos mobs haunting the streets after dark, looking for "lawbreakers"... ie, anyone not part of Blue Cosmos or the EA military.

Of course, all this activity did not come without cost to Cervantes himself... his hair was already grey but care lines were being etched into his face with almost visible speed and for the first time in his life he was acquiring a slight hunch from being crouched over his desk so much. He hated it but accepted it as the price for finally getting his wishes to come true. He kept a constant close watch upon project JIHAD's progress, riding on the Doc hard... something which neither man liked at all. Of course, Cervantes' humor was lighter during this time because the BCPU's were much more effective when deployed against regular soldiers. Ashino was like a precision tool of death... point him at the enemy, give him his orders and those orders would be carried out with a minimum of fuss and collateral damage... no matter how hectic the fight was. He was impeccable in his timing and an artist with the details... Cervantes even found himself liking the dimunitive redhead pilot at times, even though he found the downtime after each battle during which Ashino became almost catatonically introverted most annoying.

Cray Thresher on the other hand was a man not suited for individual mission objectives. Cervantes simply had him thrown into the midst of as many enemies as possible and then waited for the dust to settle. The lanky blond pilot never earned any favor with Cervantes... he was a tool and he did what tools do... their job... nothing more, nothing less, with no distinctions. Frost was the ultimate weapon of terror... ZAFT knew the short mobile suit in red and green very well... it was said that their top aces would rather spend time in the brig for mutiny than sortie when it was rumored to be in the field. To Frost's mixed frustration and elation, ZAFT would often retreat the moment he showed up, denying him the opportunity to fight. So instead he killed his handlers... Cervantes was forced to rotate in a new team of guards and doctors after almost every mission, so often that he had three extra teams on constant standby in case of rapid back to back battles.

Unwittingly racing against the doomsday clock in the PLANTS were George and Jeremiah Borander, heading up the Pulsar project. The prototype mobile suit was taking much longer to produce than even George had allowed for and the ZAFT military was screaming its head off about it, especially as casualties against the BCPU's on Earth mounted steadily. The mobile suit was only 73 percent complete coming into the week before Cervantes intended to launch the Australian Maneuver... the body was done, the skeleton made, the armor and thrusters attached, the cockpit systems loaded... but the weapons had yet to be put in and the experimental fusion pulse reactor was causing problems. It was smaller than a nuclear reactor and produced over fifty times the power, but produced a staggering amount of heat, even operating in microsecond long pulses like it was designed to. George and Jeremiah and their design team had been forced to rennovate the basic design and shape of the mobile suit in order to add a dozen fold out cooling vanes to help radiate heat from the reactor in order to prevent it from melting out through the chest of the Pulsar during operations.

Only six of the vanes were strictly required, but George believed in safety and redundancy first and foremost, especially when dealing with a vital system of such incredible potency. If the reactor were to overheat and overload, it would detonate with the force of a hundred fusion bombs... several gigatons of force... not something he wanted to happen anywhere near the PLANTS. They were currently installing the primary defenisve mechanism of the Pulsar... besides its almost supernatural agility. The Pulsar did not have phase shift armor... it did not need it, though it was coated with a phase shift like paint that greatly reduced the friction caused by the movement of the armor through air or other medium. Instead, mounted into the palm of each hand was a highly advanced piece of technology based loosely upon the positron antimatter cannons carried by heavy warships and some mobile suits. Such cannons created high intensity ion beams which quite literally disintegrated their targets when they hit, the positive positrons annihilating with the negative electrons in matter.

Whan the palms mounted was a positron shield emitter... a device that projected a magnetically contained spread of positrons in a roughly circular formation wherever the project was pointed. When normal matter and even energy encountered the positron field, it was annihilated in an antimatter reaction that manifested as a very bright flash of light. The positron field used up a great deal of power, but the fusion pulse reactor was more than capable of sustaining both at strength levels sufficient to withstand a direct hit from the GENESS laser cannon, assuming such a weapon wouldn't just saturate the entire area around the mobile suit and destroy it that way. Of course the downside to the shields was that since they were in the palms it was very difficult to attack when the shields were up, and they worked both ways... when the shields were blocking attacks in they were also preventing attacks out from the Pulsar.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Sai and Vanai were having a few problems of their own. Mostly related to Sai's reluctance to condone the actions of Blue Cosmos worldwide. Sai was of course a member of Blue Cosmos, in fact as the man who was widely expected to soon become Cervantes's heir, he wielded wide influence in both public and secret parts of the organization. But he found he could not agree with the pogroms and injustice he saw them perpetuating world wide. He knew well that such actions had only one inevitable consequence... lashback, from a populace that was sick of being mistreated. The solution to the war was not to destroy the enemy... such wars were never won because if the enemy had nothing to lose they would always fight on to live. But if the war were being fought to subdue, to defeat the PLANTS and force them to sign treaties that would forever seperate Naturals and Coordinators... well, that was a much better idea, in his opinion. He had even managed to bring around quite a few Blue Cosmos members, even influential ones.

People who had been yelling and shouting for blood at the beginning of the war but now were sick of the hypocrisy and death and violence they found commonplace. He hadn't yet challenged Cervantes on any decisions he had made, but Sai had a gut feeling he would at some point in time have to step in and attempt to curb his father in law's excesses. Vanai knew what her love was planning and it distressed her... she'd grown up believing her father and his friends were always right, that Coordinators were evil monsters who deserved nothing more than an unmarked grave. She still tried to cling to that opinion, but found it harder and harder each day... the cold, implacable contempt and not kind but not merciless view of Sai appealed to her much better on a personal level. She did not want all Coordinators to die, she just wanted them to go away and stop bothering the world with their existence. They could have space... it was cold and empty and dreary. Let the humans have Earth and the space monsters space.

She found herself agreeing with her husband to be more and more every time they spoke. They had arguments about it of course, but Vanai was unable to muster more than rhetoric spouted by her father and Asmodeus and she knew she was losing the fight. She was also beginning to show serious signs of pregnacy, though she was still in the first term. She had mood swings, diet variations and all the other crap she had read about in magazines. She hated it, but there was nothing to be done... the very idea of having a surrogate mother bear the child, though attractive at times, was unthinkable to the daughter of the ultimate human purist, Cervantes Zunnichi. Nothing would mess with the entirely natural birth of her child. The wedding was scheduled for three days hence... unknown to Sai and Vanai, Cervantes had planned the Australian Maneuver to take place two mornings after their wedding... a sort of wedding gift to them... the end of the war, with all luck. It was as Sai was preparing for the wedding that he realized that he didn't have any friends coming.

He struggled with himself for a long time... he had left Kira and the others behind without much thought before, but now... now he wanted them to be there. For the happiest day of his life, he wanted his friends to share it with him. Of course, he'd advise them to come in disguise or something... it wouldn't do for Lacus to show up at the same time as Cervantes and Asmodeus. Sai quickly hopped onto a computer and sent a warm hearted email to Kira's email, inviting him and Lacus and all their friends to the wedding, specifying the date and time. Hopefully Kira would get it... Sai missed his old friend, now that he thought of it.


	50. The Wedding Announcement

Cagalli coughed in the dust kicked up by the van as it crunched off along the gravel road. It had been three weeks and a few days since the meeting in Antarctica and now she found herself having come nearly full circle. She was back in Hawaii, out on the isolated penninsula where Alkire kept his safe house. It had been a rough few weeks, filled to the brim with battles and meetings and pain and fear and exaltation and victory and even a little defeat. It was all a blur, a mismash of color and sound and texture in her mind when she tried to take stock of it. It wasn't a task that could be undertaken after suffering through a cramped and hot two hour bus ride along a pot hole filled road in Hawaii. She had tried to sleep but only acheived a sort of half lucid trance that hadn't rested her at all. Of course, another factor besides the rough ride was keeping her pumped full of energy... she was going to see her brother again. Everyone had decided to return to Alkire's bunker to recover their few belongings, which they had not taken with them on their inital trip to the Archangel.

It was also an opportunity to relax in what seemed to be a lull in the fighting... both sides sitting back to lick their wounds before the next round got started. The war was not going according to their plan right now... neither side looked at all ready to put down the sword and pick up the pen at the negoatiating table... but at least they had prevented the use of WMD's so far... a not inconsiderable victory, all things considered. In any case, TEMPEST as well as everyone who had stayed at Alkire's house were all meeting up there for a day or so while they packed and relaxed, mainly because it was the only safe place to do so but also just so they could see each other again. It may have been less than a month since she last saw Kira and Lacus but it felt a whole hell of a lot longer than that. She even missed Ysak a little... well, more just noticed his absence. She did miss Chanel and Katie... they were much more like her in personality than Miriallia was. Miriallia was okay, but she just didn't have the wicked streak Katie did or the adventuresome side Chanel hid so well. And it would be fun to needle Lacus again.

"So are you going to sit there daydreaming out in the sun or are you going to come over into the shade with me?" Athrun asked, breaking into her thoughts. She looked up and over at him, realizing that he had moved into the copse of palm trees that concealed the ruined surface house from view while she had been thinking. "It's hot as a furnace out and while I don't mind a good sweat, I'd prefer to work it up rather than have it come of its own free will."

"As if you'd know anything about working up a sweat, lazybones. All you do is sit in the cockpit and twiddle your thumbs while the enemy runs in fear of my prowess." Cagalli said with a sneer. She did move out of the sweltering sun with haste though... no need to meet her friends looking like she'd just walked through a car wash without a car.

"Ah, your prowess. Yes... I've heard of that." Athrun said, stroking his chin as if in speculation. "But my memory seems hazy... is it your fighting skills they are afraid of or your cooking skills? I'd be afraid of you too, if you wear oven mitts again." Cagalli couldn't help but blush a little... she'd decided to bake Athrun a cake, without help, one day not so long ago. Just for fun, kind of like the roses he used to bring her back in Switzerland. But she'd botched it. Hard. Ended up setting half the kitchen on fire, a chuckling Dearka always said. Could she help it if she'd never baked a cake before? Especially in a flying warship? How was she supposed to know you had to adjust cooking times and mixture ratios when cooking at altitude? The deck had been stacked against her from the beginning.

"Yeah... laugh it up, why don't you? But if you mention that to anyone from the Archangel the very next thing I make is going into your cockpit... sans tray, if you catch my meaning." Cagalli retorted. Athrun looked a little troubled. "What? Not talking so tough now, eh?"

"I can keep quiet easily enough... keeping Dearka quiet is going to be much more difficult. In fact, since he and Miriallia went on ahead while you were off in fantasy land, I've no doubt he's already talking about it to everyone else right now. Knowing him, anyway. He never did think about consequences much when it came to the people around him." Athrun replied.

"Ugh." Cagalli commented, having overlooked that little problem. "I guess I'm just going to have to beat his ass into the ground then... Miriallia will forgive me... she's very forgiving."

"Yeah... you keep telling yourself that. I'll get the ambulance ready for you. I'm not betting against you, dear, but I'm not betting against Miriallia either, if you kow what I mean. You may be stronger, tougher, perhaps smarter, certainly prettier in my eyes, and even combat trained... but from what I hear, Miriallia can pretty mean."

"Perhaps smarter? Wait till I tell Miriallia that... I can see how mean she gets while she trashes you."

"You don't agree? And I'll thank you to keep quiet about that... or I'll bring up that little dance ensemble you put together."

"She's way smarter than me, I could never do all that CIC stuff. And you'd better not... I was exhausted from two days of no sleep AND drunk off my ass on that champagne you'd managed to conjure from somewhere. I should rule that as being taken advantage of... I wasn't in my right mind when I cut up those clothes and I was certainly out of my head when I did that dance. You had no right to take those pictures. You'd better not have brought any with you... if Kira see's even one of those..."

"If I see even one of what now?" Kira said, walking around a palm trunk from the direction of the safe house.

"Nothing!" Athrun and Cagalli chorused, looking at each other slightly guiltily. Athrun was pretty sure Kira was past the protective older brother stage, but no sibling wanted to see wanton pictures of their younger sister... especially not the ones Athrun had taken... he may have been a bit drunk at the time too, but that was no excuse. Some of those would be centerfold quality items in a racy magazine. Cagalli on the other hand, was not at all sure Kira was past the protective stage and she didn't want to try to break up a fight between Athrun and him over such an embarassing misunderstanding. And it would be a misunderstanding, since Cagalli could not imagine Kira having any prior experience with Lacus from which to gain such understanding as the pictures depicted.

"Yeah... okay. I'm sorry to interrupt whatever conversation you were having, but it had been a while since Dearka and Mir showed up and I was wondering if you two were coming after all." Kira said, suspecting that a few things were being left unsaid but accepting that he probably didn't want to know what they were talking about anyway... usually that was a safe bet when both Cagalli and Athrun both tried to hide the same thing from him.

"It's so good to see you, Kira." Cagalli temporized, throwing her arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze, almost lifting him off the ground. She smirked... her little brother was such a lightweight. Her smirk vanished when he reached out one hand to shake Athrun's hand and lifted her more than a foot in the air with his single other arm. She looked at Athrun and cocked an eyebrow... clearly Kira had been working out rather intensively.

"Yeah... from what little I saw on the news broadcasts it looks like you've got things pretty much under wraps in Eurasia." Athrun added. Kira released Cagalli and finished his handshake with eyes slightly downcast.

"I did things and Lacus says it made a difference... but I could have done more, I know it." He paused a breath and then looked into their concerned eyes with a smile. "Don't worry about me... Lacus does enough of that. I'm fine, really. This break is just the thing I need to get back into the swing of things."

"Yeah... how have you been? We have to catch up with everyone. What all's been happening?" Cagalli asked effusively, throwing one hand over Kira's shoulder and motioning for Athrun to do the same on the other side. Together they started walking down the hill towards the safe house bunker.

Lacus inspected the guest room she and Kira had stayed in at Alkire's house. It was with a rueful smile that she thought how strange it was that their quarters aboard the Archangel were actually bigger than this room, in a land bound house. They had been given officer quarters on board the Archangel... rooms next to the ones Mu la Flaga used to occupy. Mu's rooms had not been touched... indeed they were sealed off and locked all the time. Murrue seemed to have bounced back well enough from her bout of troubles but still... no one touched that room. She still wasn't ready to go back in... she'd been in once, right after Jachin Due... she'd stayed there for more than a day... then the room had been sealed off ever since. One of the troubles that still bothered Lacus... Murrue needed help moving on, that was apparent... but they just couldn't spare the time they needed to help her with her problem right now.

Yet another reason to get the war over with quickly. Not that that was going to be easy, not at all. She was worn out and sick of meetings. She didn't even want to see the faces of her closest supporters any more... she had seen more of them than she had of Kira, which was very bothersome. People were working very hard to bring peace about... but it just wasn't going anywhere in the pro war climate of the current day... ZAFT felt they had the upper hand and the rest of the PLANTS believed them, for the moment. Military recruitment was at an all time high and defense industries were burgeoning... the war was good for the economy, Lacus thought sourly. That was all it was good for, but it was enough, in many people's opinions. Too many people's opinions. Without being able to physically visit the PLANTS, Lacus just wasn't going to be able to get her points across like she needed to... and getting to the PLANTS was flat out impossible right now.

Lacus flipped open Kira's computer, which he had left out on the desk. Pink Haro bounced excitedly up and down on the twin bed, it sounded ecstatic to see her. She smiled slightly... despite Athrun's assurances to the contrary, she had always felt the Haro's really could experience a wide range of emotion. There was just something... glad... about Haro right now. Different from it's usual excited bouncing. Maybe Athrun just couldn't tell because he was a guy... Kira had problems dealing with emotional stuff like that too... and so did Ysak... it must be something confined to guys, because Katie and Chanel had both commented right off the bat how happy Haro had seemed to see her. On the other hand, Cagalli and Miriallia never seemed to be able to figure out what Haro was feeling like she could... it was a puzzle, but not one she currently had time to solve.

Her eye caught on a flashing icon on Kira's desktop, which featured an image of her, taken when she was wearing the long white and purple dress she had worn when they first met oh so long ago on the Archangel. Kira always did love seeing her in dresses and the like... a major reason why she kept wearing them, because in gravity they were a major pain. She was just about to click on the pulsing mail icon... who could have sent Kira mail, since his parents were at the Antarctic base recovering and in constant phone contact anyway... when a commotion from the common room attracted her attention. Kira had returned with Cagalli and Athrun. She quickly moved out to meet them... she missed them almost as much as Kira did and for more than one reason... when they were around Kira was more like the normal boy she wanted him to be, rather than the serious and dedicated pilot he had to be on the Archangel.

"So she tried to put out the fire you see... but she grabbed a ladle full of vegetable oil instead of a beaker of water, like any normal person would have. Ha heh... yeah, ha... so she doused the flaming cake with vegetable oil, with predictable results, ha ha... and then she tried to stamp it out... ha... heres the best part... her apron strings... tied in a ha ha... rats nest like I said earlier... a rats nest of loose strings... well... some oil was splattered on them... heh ha... and "FOOM" they went up like candle wicks. Watching her try to... ha ha ha... put herself AND the cake out... oh my god, it was hilarious." Dearka was just saying, obviously finishing up a rather amusing narrative of some sort. Miriallia just looked bored and tolerant of it all, while Ysak, Katie, Chanel, James, Alkire and Raine were in hysterics on the floor... even Victor and Vlad were managing smiles. Dearka looked up and saw that Athrun and Cagalli had walked through the door and caught the last bit of the tale. He straightened with a nervous cough. "I... I of course immediately sprang to the rescue and helped her put out the fires." he amended somewhat hastily. Cagalli just smiled sweetly at him.

"Don't worry about it, have your fun... when I get my revenge on you, there won't be anything you can do to stop me. And I will have my revenge." she said, still smiling sweetly, crooking her hands into claws.

"You're screwed!" Athrun mouthed at Dearka from behind her, nodding his head and winking for emphasis. Dearka managed a sickly chuckle and excused himself to go start packing up. Miriallia followed him, shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face. Athrun turned and looked at Lacus, who had stepped aside to let Dearka and Miriallia past. "It's good to see you, Lacus. Not working too hard, I hope."

"Too hard for my tastes." Kira muttered, loud enough she could easily hear him but could pretend she didn't. She decided not to pretend.

"That's the kettle calling the black... no... the pot black." Lacus retorted, slightly mixing up her analogy... sometimes she just forgot how to talk properly... embarassing for such a renowned public speaker, but it happened to the best of us, as her father used to say. "I work as hard as I have to."

"As do I. But now isn't the time for this little argument." Kira replied, easing the mood again with a smile. "Let me just go look through my room real quick and then we should all get together and have a reunion out here. Share stories, share memories, share plans. Just like we did before the war."

"Hear hear. I bring the vodka." Vlad added. James looked at him with a hurt expression.

"You had vodka the entire time and you didn't share any with me? I've been going crazy for lack of drink. You sick bastard, you know I can't sleep well without at least a fifth of jack before bed."

"Not my problem. Can always drink ship's beer, if you're that desperate. My vodka is only for special occasions. It isn't your average rotgut... or even your average five star resteraunt vintage... it's custom distilled for me... or was... only have twelve bottles left." Vlad replied. He stood up. "Besides, it wasn't with me... it's hidden here."

"I think I can come up with a few special treats out of the deep freeze." Alkire added. "And some drinks to cap it off... pick up a few good bottles from the wine cellar in the hanger on your way out, if you would Vlad." Alkire turned and looked at Kira and gave a sort of half bow. "Why don't you kids go collect your stuff and recollect a little bit in private... for an hour or two, say. When you come back out we'll have a regular old reunion party waiting for you... one to remember."

"I'd like that, thank you." Kira said with a nod. He and Alkire were still tense... still uncertain about where they stood with each other because of the incident in the desert. But if Alkire was willing to extend an olive branch, Kira was more than willing to take it. He quickly moved over to Lacus and they moved back into their room. "I'm glad Alkire seems to want to make up... it's been hard these last few weeks, not knowing how he really felt about me." Kira said to Lacus the moment the door was shut.

"I'm glad too... I'm still not too sure of the man, but I'll agree with you that the tension between us and him has been affecting things aboard the Archangel... Alkire and company just aren't fitting in on board. Partly its them, but partly its that the crew can sense we don't approve of them and thus they feel they shouldn't either. Annoying how being so popular can backfire, eh?"

"Yeah... being famous is yours and Cagalli's job... I'm perfectly happy sitting in the background. You can have the fans... I've got you... don't need any fans."

"Gee and here I was, going to trade you for more fans... but now I can't without feeling all guilty. Whatever should I do?" Lacus replied with a smile that drew a wide grin and a much desired hug from Kira.

"Missed being alone with you." He mumbled into her hair. "I hate being on the Archangel... always on call to go save someone else or some stupid meeting."

"I know. Not fond of it myself." Lacus replied, resting her head under his chin. "Amazing how something as simple as a real door with a lock can shut out the rest of the world." Kira lifted one hand from around her and flicked the lock shut. "Hmmm?" she hummed inquisitively.

"Glad you mentioned that, I'd have to kill the next unwanted interruption... Alkire said we should take about an hour or two... I think I can manage that, don't you?"

"My... it has been a while, hasn't it?" Lacus said, feeling Kira start to heat up and her along with him. Her voice changed tone, softening and losing at least a year of worry and concern. Kira shivered... that tone of voice made him feel like he was being bathed in fire and ice alternatively... he felt full of energy and yet powerless to do more than stand there and hold her. It was a delicious feeling. He started to dip his head down and Lacus inclined her head up. A thought whirled its way across her face and he paused.

"What is it?" he asked, voice husky and breathy.

"You have mail... email. I just wondered who could have sent you mail, thats all." Lacus replied. Kira closed his eyes and breathed a calming breath. He went out of his way to close out the world around them and it managed to thwart him anyway... stupid email. He was going to throw the computer against the wall when he got a chance. He released Lacus and reigned himself back in, deciding to look at the email real quick... it better not be a junk mail... and then get back to more important and enjoyable activities. He opened his mail program and blinked when he saw the name on the message.

"Sai...?"

"What?" Lacus asked from where she was sitting rather suggestively on the bed... she hadn't expected the mail to be more than a minute's distraction, if that... Kira was so pent up she could practically taste and smell it from across the room... in a good way, of course.

"It... it's a letter... from Sai." Kira managed. He opened the file and started to read it.

"That's great! Does it say where he is and how he's been?" Lacus said, amorous thoughts forgotten. They had all wondered about Sai for a long time now... even his parents hadn't been able to tell them were he was... though she suspected that they had been hiding a lot more than they had been saying. Sai was a longtime friend of Kira's... if they found him that would make everyone a lot happier. Lacus looked up when Kira choked and nearly collapsed against the computer desk. "Kira? What is it?"

"He's getting married. Sai's getting married." Kira whispered.

"He's getting married? That's wonderful!" Lacus told him. "When? And where is he?"

"He's here... in Hawaii... apparently he's been here for a long time, working. He's getting married in two day's time. He wants us to come. Gave us a date and location too." Kira said, mind numb. He hadn't expected this at all... Kisaka had been looking into Sai's whereabouts but ever since Kira had glimpsed him at Pearl Harbor he hadn't heard anything more about him. Now to suddenly get an email from him out of the blue, much less a wedding invitation... it was staggering. And there was the burning question in Kira's mind... Sai said in the letter that he'd been living in Hawaii for a long time... since before the rest of them left Switzerland... why hadn't he tried contacting them? Something was fishy, but Kira couldn't make sense of it... his mind was awhirl.

"Well of course we should go! This is your friend Sai, after all... we can't not go to his wedding. I'd want all my friends to come to our wedding, wouldn't you?" Lacus said, insistently. _This is perfect... a wedding, just the thing to lift everyone's spirits before we have to go back to the ships. Maybe it'll even get Kira thinking about his plans for the future... I don't want anything big... just a little something... Reverend Malchio can do the service... or Ms. Ramius... or Mr. Waltfeld even. Anyone... as long as it gets done._ Lacus slipped off into a minor daydream for a few moments, eyes starry. She woke up when Kira snapped his fingers in front of her face... apparently he'd been trying to regain her attention for some time. "Oh, did you say something, Kira?"

"I said, of course we'll go. It's Sai... we've got a lot of catching up to do. But I don't have anything to wear to a wedding and neither do you... plus I don't know if it's best for you as you to be walking around publicly... the government doesn't like your news broadcasts very much."

"Well... we can ask Alkire for help... he had disguises for Athrun and Cagalli in Orb... I'm reasonably sure he can come up with clothes we can borrow as well, if we ask."

"That's a good idea... why didn't I think of that?"

"Probably because your mind is full of hundreds of memories of Sai and other things... I'm kind of surprised you can talk, much less have ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas... the door is still locked after all." Kira said, suddenly sweeping her off her feet and carrying her back over to the bed.

"But... what about...?" Lacus said.

"Later... we have time. But now... us. Sai... later." Kira said, turning off the light.

-----------------------------------------

"You wanna go to a WHAT? FOR WHO?" Alkire cried as soon as Kira asked him. Everyone else was speechless, even the people who hadn't known Sai well... what exactly were you supposed to do when someone you presumed missing, perhaps dead suddenly invited you out of the blue to his wedding? Miriallia had tears in her eyes... one more lost friend suddenly returned to her. Cagalli and Athrun watched Kira carefully... they had their own private theory on Sai, but they had never really broached it with Kira... they suspected that Sai had leaked the fact of Cagalli's baby photo to the news... intentionally or unintentionally they had yet to figure out.

"I want to go to my friend Sai's wedding. I know it is sudden... I just found out about an hour ago myself. But I haven't seen him in months... nobody knew where he was, we didn't speak.. I was worried quite a bit about him. We have a lot of catching up to do."

"I'll say." Athrun muttered to Cagalli. "Got a few pointed questions for him myself."

"Okay... let me put this down straight... this guy, Sai Argyle... a friend of yours, disappears in the mansion of Cervantes Zunnichi back in Switzerland. Is out of touch for months, during which time a ton of bad shit happens to you guys and a world wide war starts partly because of it. When all that would be required to put things straight between you is a ten cent phone call he instead drops completely out of sight, beyond even Kisaka's ability to locate. Now, suddenly, just when you guys are making a start of a difference in the war, he wants you out of the blue to come to his wedding, which happens to be in Hawaii and just happens to be when you are by chance there to pick up belongings? No... too many coincidences. This has ass bad shit TRAP written all over it. Trust me... no good will come of this!" Alkire turned to Vlad. "I just don't get it... with intelligence as good as this email would suggest, why aren't we hip deep in enemy right now? They have to of discovered my bunker if they knew we were coming back here."

"It could just be a coincidence... that email could have been recieved anywhere in the world... it didn't indicate any special knowledge of Kira's location in it." Vlad said. "In fact it was recieved in the account three days ago... obviously this Sai guy felt Kira might have to travel quite a ways to come to the wedding, if he sent it out three days ago and it isn't until two days from now." Alkire gaped at him.

"You... you mean you don't feel at all suspicious about this? It isn't raising your hackles at all?"

"It is a wedding... even I never killed anyone during a wedding." Vlad replied. _Not strictly true... but close enough... he wasn't at the alter yet, no marriage took place._

"So we're safe during the wedding... what about before and after? What about then?"

"Why don't you guys come along and sweep the place if you are so worried? The email asks us to arrive early so we can talk to him for a while." Kira cut in, starting to get annoyed. "Listen... I'm going to Sai's wedding... the only way you can stop me is to hit me over the head and tie me up here. Same for Lacus I believe. I just wanted to have your good graces with us... sort of like you keep doing to Captain Ramius in Eurasia."

"Damn... he picked up on that?" Victor mumbled.

"Lacus picked up on it, actually. She noticed you didn't seem quite so sincere when you are asking permission... kind of like you were planning on going anyway." Kira replied.

"Point to you. Fine, if you are committed to committing suicide... then I guess we have to help you out. Just don't blame me if it is a trap and we have to make a tough exit. I have officially warned you that I have a real bad feeling about this." Alkire said. He paused a few moments. "But if you are going, then you are going my way... we're coming with you and we're going to scope the place out before we let you go in... if I find out its a trap and can prove it to you before we get there, its a no go, okay?"

"If it's a trap I will avoid it like the plague... but I can't see Sai setting us up for a trap... he doesn't even know about you Alkire or the rest of TEMPEST, doesn't know what you do, who you are or that you'd be around. He doesn't even know who else is coming with me...it'd be pretty stupid to set a trap without knowing things like that, wouldn't you say? And Sai is not a stupid guy." Kira replied.

Alkire held out his hand. "Shake on it?"

"Of course." Kira shook the older man's hand, sealing the deal. Alkire smiled widely.

"Well then, if a wedding it is to be, then a wedding it shall be. We don't have much time but I know a few places that can whip up appropriate attire in less than a day... maybe not the height of fashion but more than good enough to pass muster for a little while. And I can get us all transportation too... and not military trucks either. But if we are going to go we need to get started preparing right now... and that means no special dinner."

Kira was already heading towards the door. Dearka had been eyeing the rather delicious looking food Alkire had managed to find in his walk in freezer with avarice, and James had already made a start on Vlad's nearly priceless vodka, but they followed everyone else with few protests... a wedding was a lot more interesting than just a banquet... and the food would still be there when they got back.


	51. A Parting of friends

Sai nervously tugged at his cummerbund bowtie and made a fractional adjustment to the way his tuxedo hung from his arms. The custom tailored silk garment had been lying on his and Vanai's bed when he'd come home from work the day before... he had only touched it once before putting it on this morning, but that once had been enough... it was the most comfortable set of clothes he'd ever worn. Which meant all the itching and sweating and discomfort he was feeling really was coming from anxiety, not any material source. It didn't stop him from cursing the garments in place of his own worries, because to blame his worries would mean acknowledging he had worries at all, and he did not want to admit to himself that he did. But he did, oh he did. He was sure enough about Vanai and her father and all their friends.

But they were all he was sure about... his parents had not responded to his email and so looked not to be coming... he couldn't figure out why though. And he was starting to regret inviting Kira... if Kira had even gotten the invitation at all... no return email had been sent. Sai was two hours early for the wedding and fifteen minutes early for his proposed meeting with Kira. What was he going to say to him? What was Kira going to say back? Sai was planning on keeping his connection to Blue Cosmos secret for as long as possible... the entire wedding if feasible. He didn't think that idea would translate over to Kira very well... especially if he brought Lacus, Athrun and the rest of them. Sai hoped he wouldn't, but figured he would. If something was going to go wrong, like the pit of his stomach was saying would, it wouldn't go wrong in just a small way.

"Everything all right, sir?" a dry, almost inflectionless but nonetheless familiar voice said from behind his ear. Sai successfully resisted the urge to jump... after weeks and weeks in the company of the Lieutenant he was getting used to the stealthy bodyguard's mannerisms and habits. The Lieutenant... even Sai had trouble calling him by his name, Cyprus Finch... almost could not make a noise when he moved unless he really tried, so ingrained was stealth into his mindset. Even though it was one of the happiest days of his life, his wedding day, the Lieutenant and his men had not slackened off security. They had been in place around the volcano rim chapel since the day before, scouting around and making sure everything was fully secure... both to ensure his and Vanai's saftey and the safety of the dignitaries that were due to attend. His wedding was a world affair... heads of state and military from most of the Earth Alliance would be here, as well as Cervantes, Asmodeus and a lot of senior Blue Cosmos people.

Sai was glad of the security, since it meant that nothing was going to go wrong... nobody short of a regiment of mobile suits was going to get past the Lieutenant and his men and even that force would be slowed perceptibly. Sai hadn't seen the Lieutenant do much, but what he had seen had impressed and shaken him to the core... he was very glad the Lieutenant was on his side of the fence. The pale haired and pale skinned slender man with flat grey eyes didn't seem like someone special on first glance... all part of his strategy as it turned out. He was a lot like Asmodeus... you had a hard time even realizing he was around until he was right next to you and by then it was far too late. On the other hand, unlike Asmodeus, the Lieutenant could stand out in a crowd just like Cervantes, commanding everyone around him without even moving or saying a word. It all depended on what he wanted to do, what effect he wanted to have. Sai could see why the men of his unit whispered legends about him... he was the sort that spawned legends and myths without even meaning or wanting to.

"Just anxiety, Lt." Sai replied, mastering his wandering mind and turning to face his tenative friend. They had not spoken much, but Sai sensed a mutual degree of respect between them... the Lieutenant certainly seemed to like him a lot, since he was practically the only guy the Lieutenant ever talked casually with for even a real short time.

"I've heard of the ailment." the Lieutenant said with a bare smile. "Thomas experiences it too, before every major mission. It helps, I think, to drink a lot of alchohol and pull a few pranks... or it does for Thomas anyway." the Lieutenant continued, referring to his second in command and co-legend in the Hellhounds, Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory... Sergeant-Major Glory... a beast of a man who was more at home with a rocket launcher in one hand and a minigun in their other than the bottles of champagne he was currenty helping arrange on a side table. Despite the somewhat ludicrous image of Glory, who stood seven feet tall barefoot and massed more than four hundred pounds of sculpted and scarred muscle, dressed in the not quite uniform but not quite dinner dress outfit all the Hellhounds were wearing, his short blond hair buzzed back short recently, moving seemingly tiny wine bottles around like they were high explosives with low vibration tolerances, Sai found it hard to believe such a giant could ever feel anxiety. He also noted that the Lt. made no referral to feeling anxiety himself... Sai had no doubt the very idea was foriegn to the supremely calm and collected bodyguard-soldier.

"I think I'll pass on that for the meanwhile... I'd like to be coherent for my own wedding. Maybe afterwards I can have a few drinks with you guys." Sai replied, checking what little he could see of the parking lot through the open door to the chapel. No sign of Kira yet.

"Of course. I'll see what can be arranged. Now, if you'll excuse me, young master, I need to make some last minute preparations." the Lieutenant said. Sai nodded and thanked him, not quite hurrying outside so he could see Kira, if he was indeed coming, before the Lt. did. Sai wasn't sure what opinion the Lieutenant had on Coordinators, but he knew well Cervantes's and Asmodeus's positions... and the Lt. worked for them... if at all possible he didn't want a gun battle to break out before his wedding... or during his wedding... or at all, really. Back inside the chapel the Lieutenant's smile turned predatory for a fleeting instant. He knew who the young master was looking for out in the parking lot... Asmodeus's wire taps had of course included Sai's computer... they had recieved the invitation email the moment it was sent and it hadn't taken Asmodeus long to figure out who it was addressed to.

Asmodeus had actually been disappointed in himself, the Lt. recalled, for not thinking of such a ploy earlier... the targets were good friends of the young master, of course they would want to show up for the wedding... it was the perfect opportunity to bag a lot of troublemakers all at once. They hadn't known the targets would actually show up until yesterday, when a bulk order for formal attire was put in to a world famous outlet store in Honolulu... an order for nine tuxedoes and six gowns, to be delivered post haste to a drop box address on the Big Island. Tracking the order delivery and the pickup by a fiery red ferrari had not been difficult for Asmodeus to arrange... they had lost the car before following it back to its origin point but they knew to expect early guests. The Lt. was under strict orders to allow the young master his talk with his friends... former friends after the wedding, when the Lt. would be in charge of taking them into custody. Personally, the Lt. would have let the young master talk anyway... and even let his friends go too... he had nothing against them and in fact, deep within the most secret places of his mind, he even sympathized with them... a little.

"ETA?" the Lieutenant asked as he drifted past Glory, who was seemingly still fussing with the champagne bottles, but was actually working the controls of a concealed commlink system that kept all the members of Hellhound team Alpha in constant contact with each other, even though the twelve members were scattered all over around the chapel and surrounding area. It also kept them in contact with Hellhound teams Bravo, Charlie and Delta, who were secreted as a reaction force in the boreal caldera below the chapel... they would exfiltrate from their hiding places during the wedding and act as backup for the police action.

"Five, sir." Glory replied out of the side of his mouth. The red ferrari had been sighted driving up the access road to the private wedding chapel... leading an armored black stretch limo. Clearly the targets were people of some means, much as the files he and the Lt. had studied had indicated. Glory snorted slightly to himself as he continued adjusting the real bottles next to the false versions that concealed the radio transmitter and reciever. He had read the files... he had recognized the names... other professionals in the business were good people to keep tabs on as you never knew when you might be teamed up or squared off. He wasn't too concerned... the only scary name on the list had been Vladimir Valkavich... Andre Forkav... Glory knew the man well and wouldn't have looked forward to facing him in a secret war... or war of any sort. Any man who could use a garrote as his primary weapon was not someone you wanted to be fucking around with, in Glory's opinion. But he did have the Lt. on his side... and the Lt. was another one of those people you didn't want to ever be fucking around with. And the Lt. had lots of backup... Glory was feeling pretty good, all things considered.

"Ready?" the Lt. asked. Glory envied Sai his conversation with the Lt... he had known the Lt. ever since they went through boot camp together ten years previously and he could count the number of lengthy conversations he'd had with his best friend on just his own ten fingers. Well... lengthy conversations that did not have to do with work, anyway. And the number of work related actual conversations was pretty small too... the Lt. could communicate a hell of a lot with just gestures and single words... he was more articulate with shoulder shrugs and stares than Glory ever was during the few times he had been forced to give briefings or other speeches.

"Yes, sir." Thomas Glory, Sergeant-Major in the EFSOU, perhaps the second most feared man in all of the Hellhounds and certainly in the top five toughest men on the planet Earth replied smartly, replying not only for himself but for the rest of team Alpha, who were hanging on every word the Lt. spoke through the comm. channel.

"Good." the Lt. said, the single word of praise and acknowledgement causing a beautific stirring in the heart of every one of his men... they lived for his praise, for his acceptance. The Lt. continued on his way, legs unconsciously moving him outside the chapel and into concelament, where he could watch the young master greet his soon to be former friends without being detected.

"There's the chapel... seems clear enough." Alkire admitted to Kira as he swung his ferrari up off the access road into the parking lot for the chapel... a private affair that was only rented out to upper class wedding parties for ridiculous prices. Alkire had to admit the location was fantastic though, almost certainly worth the price. The chapel was situated in a nature preserve, on the lip of the caldera of a long extinct volcano. There wasn't another building within ten miles and the chapel had a commanding view of the ocean on three sides and the taller mountains of the rest of the island in the other. Lush green forest carpeted the entire area and indeed extended down into the shallow bowl of the caldera... coming right up almost to touch the chapel on the sides and in the back.

Up at this elevation the sun beating down merely warmed the chill morning mountain air rather than turned the air into a steam bath like it did at the base of the mountain. There were only a few other cars parked in the lot... mostly just the upper middle class sedans belonging to the staff of the chapel, who had likely arrived early to make sure everything was ready before the wedding and to make any final adjustments. A single dark navy blue sports car... a custom model Alkire could not easily identify... was parked in the spot of honor closest to the chapel... clearly the groom was here early, just as advertised.

"I don't see anything amiss yet." Vlad added from the back seat, swinging a small pair of binoculars around like he was sightseeing. The binocs, besides magnifying vision, also contained heat and magnetic sensors that would detect people hiding in the foliage by their heat or weapon signatures. Of course, with the sun warmed forest it was hard to see very far into the undergrowth and many advanced weapons were made primarily of plastic nowadays so he did not rely only on the binocs... but his eyes could not pick anything strange out either. Everything seemed on the up and up. He, Alkire and Kira had gone first in the most maneuverable car so that if it did really turn out to be a trap they would have the easiest time escaping. Kira was smiling, pleased and relieved. He saw the waving figure standing at the door to the chapel.

"There's Sai, at the chapel door. I told you it was nothing but a friendly invitation... we don't seem to have been ambushed yet." Kira said, fighting the urge to add _"I told you so."_

"Emphasis on "yet"." Alkire muttered. He had to admit though, that since neither he nor Vlad had managed to detect any sign of danger, that probably meant there were no signs to detect. Alkire despised hubris but he had some of the best eyes in the business and Vlad was the sharpest scout he'd ever seen... if he couldn't locate the enemy they were almost certainly not there. Still... Alkire couldn't quite convince himself that everything was cool. Something was nagging at his mind, something he couldn't quite point to and say "that's wrong". He sighed. He had no choice but to get the party started. "LZ cold." he radioed to Raine in the limo.

"Incoming then. Sorry dear." she replied. The limo quickly pulled into view and parked next to the ferrari in the middle back of the parking lot. Kira was already out of the car and walking towards Sai while everyone else piled out of the limo and composed themselves. Much to Alkire's aghast horror, Cagalli and Lacus had shed the disguises he had prepared for them... he hadn't seen them get into the limo and hadn't noticed that they'd washed their hair dye out and removed the skin darkeners he'd had them put on. Cagalli was no longer a raven haired beach girl and Lacus her well tanned blond friend... now they were unmistakeably Cagalli Yula Attha and Lacus Clyne.

"Are you INSANE?" Alkire hissed, fingers balling into fists, tendons standing out on the back of his neck. "Do you want to die? Please tell me I'm seeing things and you two aren't out of disguise. Do you have any idea what will happen if you are recognized?"

"We will be forced to leave in a hurry. I would have figured that was what you wanted." Cagalli retorted. Alkire paused in mid tirade.

"Whahuun?" he asked, derailed.

"Much as Kira has been looking forward to this meeting, I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable as time passed. While Kira truly believes Sai wants to talk, I found myself thinking about how horribly exposed he will be out here... even if Sai means him no harm there is the matter of whoever Sai has been staying with these past months... there are many people on Earth who would be quite happy to kill Kira, unfortunate though that truth is." Lacus added. "I hope this meeting is all that Kira wants it to be, but I'm expecting something to go wrong. Much like you, yes? The sooner I or Cagalli gets recognized and we are forced to leave, the better. I feel guilty for forcing Kira away from his friend to protect me, but this is necessary to preserve his own life, I believe most firmly."

"Buh... uhh... wha... damn... that makes too much good sense. What a strategy... remind me not to play chess against you two... thats totally out of left field but it should work great. In a twisted sort of way. But I like it." Alkire said. "There's a lot more to you than I initially gave you credit for."

"Yes, I think you've underestimated Cagalli and I quite a bit. Bear that in mind for the future." Lacus said lightly but with a smile like steel. Alkire couldn't believe it... unless he totally missed his guess he'd just been threatened by Lacus Clyne... a singularly solitary event he was sure.

"Well then... after you two then." Alkire said, sweeping out an arm in a half bow. Lacus and Cagalli stepped by quickly, pausing only to collect Athrun and followed closely by everyone else. Alkire looked at Raine. "That was really their idea?"

"Totally... I think you summed it up well... we've been underestimating them. A lot. We should stop before we get in over our heads." Raine replied. "Just consider them to have gone through EFSOU, like you have. Then maybe you'll have an idea, like I'm starting to, about just how dangerous these kids are. We've been riding the lion's back without realizing it."

"I dunno... I'm a pretty good lion tamer... handy with a whip, if you know what I mean." Alkire said with a wink and a nudge. Raine shot him a half exasperated look and a sigh.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Quit... what's quit?" Alkire asked, heading off towards the chapel, entwining his hand with her's... though leaving his gun hand free for instant action if required.

"Kira." Sai said, the single word... the name... the mere utterance seeming to carry the weight of an entire book of meaning. He stood at the top of the short flight of shallow white steps that led from the parking lot to the chapel door. Kira was at the bottom, immaculately attired in a tuxedo of similar make to Sai's own... nearly identical bow tie... pink rose boutenniere on his left breast a little odd but it did not detract from his appearance. Except for that and his brown hair and violet eyes, they could have been twin brothers... Sai's own boutenniere was dark blue in a slight nod to his political affiliation. Kira's hair was blowing slightly in the breeze, much as Sai's own was. They just looked at each other, stares meeting like two people diving into opposite pools, one lavender tinted... the other cerulean blue.

"Sai..." Kira replied. His head had been full of words just instants before... he'd had an entire conversation planned out during the ride to the chapel... but now he'd forgotten all of it. Every word, every question... gone. He couldn't think of what to say. "How's it been?" he managed with a slight smile.

Sai smiled as well... trust Kira to just cut right through to the heart of things... no angry questions, no demanding to know where he'd been or who he'd been with. Just a simple inquiry... a friend wanting to know how another friend had been since their last meeting. It warmed him to his soul... he felt friendlier towards Kira than he had since Switzerland. "It's been good. Better than good. Amazing. Incredible. I'm strapped for words."

"Yeah." Kira agreed, similalrly tongue tied. He started up the stairs and held out his hand. Sai looked at it for a moment before tenatively reaching out his own hand. They gripped each others hands and shook once. "Good to see you again, Sai. It's been too long."

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." Sai agreed. He dropped Kira's hand, noting a few squriming tendrils of discomfort in his gut... everything was just so awkward. What did he and Kira really have to say to each other? They could tell each other what they'd been doing, but Sai already knew what Kira had been up to... it hadn't been hard to figure out who was piloting the Freedom like mobile suit against both sides in Eurasia. And now that Sai thought about it, there was a lot of stuff he'd been doing... most everything really, that he didn't feel very comfortable telling Kira about. He'd been certain that there were hundreds of things to talk about with Kira when he'd written the invitation... but now that he was confronted with him everything seemed to inevitably lead to Blue Cosmos... the one thing Sai definitely did not want to talk about.

Sai looked up and saw that everyone else from Switzerland was standing a few paces behind Kira, waiting for him to have his talk. There were five new faces in the crowd... four older men and a woman he dimly remembered seeing once or twice before... but Sai didn't know them. Sai frowned slightly when he saw and easily recognized Athrun, Cagalli and Lacus... none of whom had bothered to disguise themselves in the slightest. He smiled again when he saw Miriallia, dressed in a lavender gown that looked quite fetching, but his lip curled upon sighting Ysak, who looked very uncomfortable in his tux... Sai well remembered that Ysak had killed the son of one of his new friends and while that son may have been a disgusting bastard, it didn't change the fact that Ysak had shot him and killed him. "I suppose I should invite you all inside out of the heat, huh?"

Kira looked back when Sai did and smiled at Lacus... everything was going fine, if a little slower than he'd thought. Nothing was wrong with Sai... it was just the standard communication trouble they'd always had... neither of them were especially good with expressing themselves to each other. And of course Sai was even more pent up and nervous than usual... it was his wedding day after all, only a few hours before he was going to be married. Kira imagined that he himself would be a nervous wreck in a similar situation... he certainly wouldn't be as composed as Sai was. Kira looked back at Sai... now that he thought of it, there was something a little different about Sai... he seemed older... more mature... more a man than an old teenager now. Maybe it was the fact that he was getting married but Kira felt it was more.

His friend had grown up a lot in the time they had been apart... grown up so much Kira found it breathtaking now that he thought about it. He didn't feel at all different... a little older and wiser perhaps but nothing like the subtle transformation Sai had undergone... he stood straighter, he talked more clearly and with greater purpose, his grip had been firmer and his entire stance had shifted slightly to that of someone used to giving orders and making a difference in the world. Kira found himself envying his friend just then... like he'd said before there were lots of things Sai could do that Kira could not and never before was that as apparent to him as it was now.

"Thank you." Lacus said politely, moving up next to Kira and giving a half curtsy. "I must congratulate you on your marriage, Mr. Argyle. I hope to be as lucky as your no doubt lovely bride is, sometime soon."

"Thank you as well, Lacus." Sai said, taking her hand and bowing over it. "Though you needn't be so formal, I'm sure I'll have more than enough of that during the wedding and during the party afterwards. And I'm only Mr. Argyle for the next few hours... I'm taking my wife's name when we get married."

"Isn't that a little... counter-custom?" Cagalli asked as she shook his hand as well, slightly tenatively. She could be shaking the hand of a man who had betrayed her and Athrun's private secret lives to the entire world.

"Maybe. But it's what her family wanted and who am I to argue? I'm me, no matter what my name is. By the way, I want to say how sorry I am for what happened... I wish I could have been there in Switerland when that video came out. If I ever find out who stole that photo of yours and took that video I'm going to punch their lights out and then turn them over to you. Nobody deserves to be treated like that... least of all you and Athrun."

"Thank you for the sentiment but if we find out who did it, rest assured, Cagalli and I won't need any help in adminstering a just recompense upon them." Athrun spoke up firmly from behind Cagalli. He took and shook Sai's hand just as firmly, staring him directly in the eyes in an almost challenging manner. Sai didn't back down... he'd stared down Asmodeus and Cervantes when they were upset and he'd looked into the Lieutenant's eyes without flinching... compared to them and especially compared to the raging fire of Vanai's eyes, Athrun wasn't anything to be ruffled about. Plainly the Coordinator was angry and on edge... Sai could hardly blame him, considering what had happened and especially considering their current exposed condition... more than a few people planning to attend would certainly recognize Ms. Attha and Mr. Zala. How that would go Sai did not know, but he expected things would remain civil... this was a wedding after all. "Whoever they are." Athrun added.

_He thinks it was me? Thats stupid. I may not like the son of a bitch, but Cagalli's all right. I wouldn't betray them to the news like that... that would be wrong. I'll have to do some looking for them... Blue Cosmos has a wide reach... and while Cervantes assured me the man who did the deed killed himself I can't bring myself to believe it... a man with the balls to pull off a smear job like that wouldn't just end his own life afterwards... he's still out there._ "Of course. Merely expressing my sentiments." Sai replied. He greeted Miriallia next, genuinely glad to see her... she was his one remaining true natural friend from his old friend circle. She was easy to get along with, unlike the awkwardness with Kira and Lacus or the hostility he felt from Cagalli and Athrun... the damned Coordinator had poisoned Cagalli against him with his prejudices, no doubt. But Sai found it tough to get her to engage in as much conversation as he was used to... she clung quite tightly to Dearka. Sai was used to Mir clinging to her boyfriends... she'd done it to Tolle all the time... but he found it a little annoying right now... she hadn't seen him for months and yet she didn't seem all that happy to see him... maybe another victim of a Coordinator's prejudice, since Dearka, while polite was not more than cool towards him.

Sai looked up and out at the parking lot, where a white limousine unfamiliar to him was pulling up... it was large and expensive... another early arriving guest of some import no doubt, but Sai didn't remember hearing the Lt. talk about any other guests arriving early... the wedding wasn't due to begin for another two hours. The next people he greeted in the line of acquiantances was Ysak and his two girlfriends... Chanel and Katie, he could not tell them apart as they were dressed in identical red dresses with identical hairstyles and accoutrements. He shook their hands briefly and bowed, but couldn't muster up any warmth... he wasn't glad to see them and he wished they weren't there. If Cervantes wasn't going to be happy to see Kira and Lacus and Cagalli and Athrun... Asmodeus was going to freak out when he saw Ysak, whom he hated with a burning passion. The next person after them was a man grown, the man with brown and black speckled hair and twinkling blue eyes that still managed to convey far more sense of threat than Athrun's. Sai was shaking his hand and trying to get a look at whoever had stepped out of the limo, but was unable to see around the older man.

"So... who is the lovely bride? I've yet to catch her name. Mine's Alkire... Alkire Majesty." Alkire asked.

"I am. Who the hell are all you people?" Vanai's truculent but heartbreakingly sweet voice said from behind the group at the door. Sai's jaw dropped... he hadn't expected Vanai to show up for another thirty minutes or so... why had she shown up early? Sai's jaw dropped farther when he saw her in her brilliant pure snow white wedding dress with a blue diamond necklace shaped like the Blue Cosmos insignia around her neck... she was a vision of all that was good and right in the world... fiery red hair pluming from her head like the lava that used to come from the caldera and yellow eyes flashing like molten sapphires in her face. Lacus and Cagalli and Miriallia and even Chanel and Katie were pretty girls... but Vanai was a goddess among peasants, at least in Sai's eyes. His good mood was spoiled more than slightly when he saw Cervantes and Asmodeus getting out of the limo as well, but neither had yet turned to look at the people at the door... a precious few seconds of peace he was thankful for.

"Kira... Lacus... Mir... everyone... this is Vanai Zunnichi... my one true love and soon to be bride." Sai proclaimed proudly. "Vanai, dearest... meet Kira Yamato... the friend I've told you about. And the rest of his friends as well, all acquiantances and old friends of mine as well."

"Out of the frying pan... into the fire." Victor whispered to James, who could do no more than stare in stupifecation. Raine leaned close to Alkire.

"The lion's den... thats where we are. That whip better be damned good." Alkire turned to make a comment and froze. Cervantes and Asmodeus, in a conversation of their own, suddenly stopped and looked at him from no more than six feet away. Alkire was stunned... this was worse than he ever imagined it could be. Exposed... off balance... surrounded... outnumbered... the situation screamed trap. Trap with a capital "T". TRAP TRAP TRAP! They were screwed... they were caught cold... the legion of bodyguards was moments from descending upon them, no doubt. Cervantes smiled, convincing Alkire once and for all that it had been a trap. They were expected... no man was that unflappable, especially when his own daughter and soon to be son in law were closer to Alkire than to him.

"Alkire Majesty, I presume? And Raine Belaruse... James Ramsgoth... Andre... excuse me, Vladimir Valkavich... and Victor Klein, right?" he said, nodding to each TEMPEST member in turn. "I am Cervantes Zunnicihi. This is my friend and advisor, Asmodeus Sark. I believe some of you may have heard of him. And me too, of course." Cervantes continued smoothly, acting like nothing untoward was happening. But Alkire saw the sparkle of triumph, carefully hidden in the depths of the other man's eyes... he was loving every second of this. "I welcome you to this joyous occasion... I'm sure we'll have lots to talk about during the reception, don't you?" Cervantes left that thought hanging and stepped into the chapel. "Ah, more familiar faces... lets see... Dearka Elsman... Miriallia Haw... I don't know you two well but friends of Sai's are friends of mine, eh?" He turned his gaze elsewhere, playing with them like a lion with a mouse.

"Mr. and Ms. Zala-Attha! How wonderful to see you. Dressed and everything, how shocking. Isn't your wedding going to be soon as well? Maybe you can use the facility after Sai and Vanai, eh?" Cervantes said, getting as many digs in as he could, enjoying the tightening of lips and narrowing of eyes. He didn't usually get to have this much fun all at once. "You must be Ysak Joule. I've heard about you... but I don't know those lovely girls by your side... not feeling talkative, mmm? Don't worry, there is plenty of time for us all to become well acquianted." Cervantes nodded at Ysak before circling his gaze around to his primary targets. "And who is this? Not Lacus Clyne and the famous Kira Hib... pardon me, Yamato. No surely not... I did not know you had such well known friends, Sai. I would hardly have expected the PLANTS most famous pop singer and pacifist and the Ultimate Coordinator to show up to your wedding. After all..." Cervantes started to say. Sai cut him off.

"I'm glad you know all my friends, sir. But what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you for at least an hour." Sai said, sliding up to put his arm around Vanai and stand between the two groups of people... Vanai, Cervantes and Asmodeus on his right, everyone else on his left. Things hadn't gotten bad yet... but they were far from good... a word said wrong and everything was going to blow up in his face. The invitation really seemed like a bad idea now.

"Oh, I figured a father's touch might be useful in making sure my little girl's happiest day went perfectly. We were just sitting around the mansion twiddling our thumbs anyway. Look how well this turned out for us all though. I must admit, I forgot to invite any friends of yours... everyone else is a friend of mine or Vanai's. I'm glad you had the presence of mind and the gumption to send your own invitations... speaks well of your initiative, my boy. I always admire judiciously applied initiative. But of course you already knew that, since you're a senior vice president after all." Cervantes said effluently, voice oozing good cheer. Kira was staring at Cervantes with a sickly look... that last time he'd seen this man was from much farther away and he hadn't liked it... now he was seeing him in his full aweful majesty... light grey suit with maroon undershirt and the white cane, white hair and almost glowing yellow eyes blazing with exaltation... the man was frightening. Kira switched his gaze to Sai at that last comment.

"Senior vice president? Where have you been working, Sai? That's a major upgrade." Kira said, trying not to sound like he didn't really want to know. He had a very bad feeling about this. Very bad.

"Oh, you mean you didn't know? Sai's been working very closely with me... my company is Cosmos Weapons Manufacturer's and its subsidaries... I also head up an environmental rights group... perhaps you've heard of it. Sai is also a major part of that organization... he's quite popular, you know." Cervantes said with a wide grin. Oh, this was delicious... he lived for moments like this.

"Cosmos..." Kira trailed away... his eyes riveted themselves to the necklace Sai's bride, Vanai... the girl from math class who'd always thought he was hitting on her... was wearing around her neck. Vanai was busy giving each and every Coordinator present a death stare... with an extra couple left over for Miriallia and Cagalli. She was ignoring Chanel and Katie, who kept trying to stare her down. But the feminine gaze war was not what troubled him, even if he did not like how the red head was staring at Lacus at all... it brought up unpleasant memories of Flay... no... his attention was centered on the blue gem necklace. The one with a much hated symbol as it's centerpiece, lovingly worked but no less hideous in his eyes for that. "No..." he looked at Sai pleadingly. That couldn't be true. Sai couldn't...

Sai did not look away. He met Kira's gaze. Before he might have been embarrassed... but he wasn't now. He was getting married today and he didn't care what his friends thought about him... if they couldn't respect his choice of political party then they could go screw themselves. He had tried to skirt the issue to avoid offending them but now that it was in the open he wasn't going to pretend he was anything less than proud to be a part of Blue Cosmos. It wasn't like he was one of those fanatics who used machine guns and drive by shootings to express themselves... he much preferred argument and debate. "What about it?" Sai asked Kira back. "You don't see me criticizing Lacus for being a pacifist, do you?"

"But... Blue Cosmos? You hated Blue Comos!" Kira protested. The world had been kicked out from under him again... it was happening even when he thought it would never happen again. This didn't make any sense at all... sure, Sai had always had a bit of an inferiority complex whe it came to Kira and Coordinators, but he didn't hate them. Kira knew that for certain. How could Sai have so radically changed so as to join Blue Cosmos? Kira's eye once again alighted on Vanai Zunnichi. Daughter of the leader of Blue Cosmos. Sai's wife. Kira knew well the influence Lacus had on him... Sai seemed just as in love with Vanai as Kira was with Lacus. No... that was monstrous... Sai couldn't be manipulated like that... after Flay he was much more suspicious of feminine motives.

"I hated specific stances Blue Cosmos supported." Sai clarified. "I don't hate you for being a Coordinator, Kira. I don't hate Coordinators period. But I don't think we can get along either. You might not be able to change how you were born and I cannot do so either. But just because the past cannot be changed doesn't mean the future is immutable as well... Coordinators and Naturals do not get along and forcing them to be together in so called equality is foolish. There is no set destiny where humanity and Coordinators co-exist... it is a fact of human nature to want to be the best and as long as we co-habitate, Coordinators and Naturals will fight to be the best. We could exterminate each other... but I don't think that is possible... not without ensuring mutual genocide. We should seperate our races... Coordinators and Naturals, forever seperated. That's the only way to achieve peace and move forward."

"Running away from the problem isn't going to solve anything!" Lacus interrupted. "If we seperated the Coordinator's and Natural's one side would eventually feel threatened by the other being out of sight and would attack and we'd be back where we are now."

Sai glared at her. She made it sound like he hadn't thought of that himself... like he was stupid or something. He was getting fed up with Coordinators again... his good feelings towards Kira were melting away. Couldn't he keep his girl under control? Vanai knew when to talk and offer advice and when to let Sai express his own views... she had nothing positive to add to the current conversation and so she was letting him talk, though she likely had quite a bit to say to Kira... none of it suitable for the ears of minors. "Well, once you've come up with a more advanced solution for world peace than simply praying for us sweetly to get together and talk things out like children being summoned to the principles office for detention, be sure to let me know. Meanwhile I'll be working on my solution as well. I can tell you which is more likely to succeed, but you probably would just come up with another know it all smart ass comment. You seem to be good at that."

"Now, now, lets not fight. It's a happy day today. A wedding. Surely you can put all this tension behind yourselves until a more suitable time?" Cervantes said with a grin. "After all... its not like there's a war on or anything... oh, I guess there is. Well... in that case I'm sure you'll both get to try your solutions... the war won't end tomorrow or anything." _Well, the war might but the mop up certainly won't._ "I can promise you all that Blue Cosmos is not doing anything to harm Coordinators right now. The entire organization is taking a holiday for my daughter's wedding. Let's have a drink and be friends, eh?"

Kira ignored Cervantes's gibes, though the taunting was starting to piss him off something fierce. Only the certain knowledge that they were surrounded and completely in Cervantes's power had kept Ysak and Athrun from action, Kira was sure. "I can't believe you would do such a thing. I can't believe you would join Blue Cosmos... it's so... not you, Sai."

"How would you know what I am? You were always too busy fighting the war to get to know how I was doing. Barring that you were stealing my girlfriend." Sai was digging for his wallet when he brought up that spiky ball of pain. Kira flinched, as did Lacus.

"That's... that's..." Kira started to say.

"Shut up, Kira. I've heard what you had to say on that issue and it's closed. We're past it. I only brought it up to illustrate just how little you really know me any more." Sai searched through his wallet for a way to get through to Kira.

"You were sad when you thought I was dead... you were glad to see I was alive after Genesis... we had a good time in Switerland, didn't we?" Kira retorted, started to get frustrated and angry.

"I don't hate you Kira. I don't think I could ever hate a guy like you. But you really piss me off sometimes. Like now. You just cannot accept that the world and the people you know in it... might actually be different than how you want them to be. You want proof of who I am? Look at this!" Sai said harshly, showing his business card... the one that had the CWM insignia and his official position on the front... and the Blue Cosmos membership card on the back. "I'm a hard working senior executive for a corporation that provides more than 75 percent of the Earth Alliance's armaments in addition to dozens of other products. I earn a salary with more zero's in it than all the calibres of all your mobile suits many weapons added together. I work for that money... I work hard and long hours making technology better for the Earth. And then I come home every day to my loving fiancee. Sometimes on weekends I go out with some mutual friends and have a few drinks... sometimes the conversation turns to politics. I go to Blue Cosmos rallys when I feel like shaping my own viewpoint to more accurately fit what I want it to be alongside the greater viewpoint of the organization. I've even spoken at a few and my views do seem to have a following. That's who I am. Who did you think I was? The crewmember on the Archangel? The student from Heliopolis? The stilted friend from the desert? Who?"

"If you don't hate me... why are you saying all these things?" Kira asked, numb. Sai growled... he just didn't get it. He was taking offense... not thinking. It amazed Sai that such an intelligent guy could be such a pinhead.

"I'm saying them because I do want you to understand me, Kira. I want you to know who I really am... not who you assume I am. We were friends up in Heliopolis... we were friends during most of the war. I wouldn't mind being friends now... in fact I'd like that very much. But I cannot be friends with you if you refuse to accept me as I am. You have some idea what I'm saying... everyone thought you were a traitor to your people because you fought on the Archangel... can't you see how similar the situation is here?"

Kira shook his head. "I was doing that to protect the people I cared about. You... Mir... Tolle... I was fighting to protect you all. How is joining Blue Cosmos at all like protecting people? I'm sorry, but it seems more to me that you're doing all this for you... not for us. I'm supposed to accept you as you are... I can do that. I want to be your friend Sai. But it has to go both ways. I can change and accept you... but you have to change too... you have to see where I'm coming from too."

"I do accept you... I invited you to my damn wedding, you stubborn bastard. How is that not friendly?"

"The wedding where you marry the daughter of the man who is currently in charge of an organization that wants to kill the person I love most just because of how she was born. An organization that wants to kill me and most of my friends for a similar reason. The wedding where you marry someone who to me seems to be strongly influencing you against me, pardon me for saying so. I just can't see where our parallel paths parted. We used to be the closest of friends... sure we had a bit of trouble communicating, but it was never anything like this." Kira said plainitively.

"Vanai isn't influencing me against you... you don't need any help doing that yourself. And if Vanai is influencing me... don't you think the little pink hair vixen behind you might be doing some influencing on you in turn?"

"But I trust..."

"You trust Lacus's intentions are for the best, of course. Just like I trust Vanai's intentions are for the best. We seem to have a conundrum here... are you telling me I should trust you and Lacus more than I trust Vanai? Please be clear because that seems to be exactly what you are telling me." Sai said, his voice going low and rough. He did not need this shit on his wedding day... if Kira didn't come around quick... well, he didn't know what was going to happen... but it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Well... no. Of course not. You should trust whomever you want to trust. But... Sai... you're making a mistake. I can't let you do this. I can't let you go down this path. Can't you see where you're being led to?" Kira said, his voice pained. Alkire winced... Kira's word choice could have been a lot better. A LOT BETTER. The kid could put his foot in his mouth like no other.

"You CAN'T LET ME?" Sai's voice went very calm and neutral. "You can't let me? I'm being led? Making a mistake? Is that what you said?"

"Well... that came out a bit harsh... I meant to say that as a friend I won't allow you to be..."

"YOU won't ALLOW... you're not doing any allowing when it comes to me... Kira." Sai practically spat the name out. "I'm the only one doing the allowing here. You keep saying things like that... I see why Blue Comos doesn't like Coordinators clearer with every word you utter. Your arrogance is staggering."

"But... you're being decieved!" Kira protested. Lacus clamped down on his arm... he wasn't talking anywhere but into trouble right now. Kira had tried his best but he hadn't gotten through. He was only hurting himself now... further damaging an already damaged relationship.

"I'm... being... decieved." Sai said slowly, as if tasting the words. "I wonder if you aren't talking about yourself now? I'm seeing things very clearly, I think. The only deception I'm under was the one that you were a friend to me... ever. All I've been to you is a convenient cutout for you to place against the background so you could feel better about your motivations. You should go. And not come back. Don't even call me. I'll do my best to forget you ever existed. That's probably best, don't you think? Should be easy enough... if I'm not real enough to trust for you, returning the favor shouldn't be too hard, eh?" Sai said bitterly, turning away towards his father in law.

"That's not the TRUTH!" Kira said, stepping forward and reaching out to his friend. He didn't see Sai turn back. Or maybe he just refused to accept that Sai really meant what he said. In any case, he was unprepared.

"**FUCK YOUR TRUTH!**" Sai cried, whirling and throwing a strong, swift and straight right hook into Kira's face. Sai hadn't really expected to hit him, though he'd certainly tried. He'd attempted a similar attack back in the desert and all it had earned him was a twisted arm and bruised pride. But either he was a lot faster or Kira was really a lot slower for some reason, but in any case his punch slipped right through Kira's defenses and he connected solidly. Very solidly. Sai hadn't been in many fights growing up, but he'd had a few... and this was the most solid punch he'd ever landed. It seemed to contain all his emotions... the bitterness, betrayal, sadness, pain, anger, frustration... all the negative stuff Kira had brought out. That one punch drained all that out of him by lending a lot of force to his punch. More even than he'd intended. He didn't break Kira's nose, but he bloodied it damned well and actually knocked the Coordinator right off his feet, to land stretched out stunned on the chapel floor. Sai gasped once and looked down at Kira, who was staring at him like he'd just grown an extra head.

"And fuck you too, **Kira**." Sai said, turning on his heel and walking out with Vanai by his side. He paused briefly by Cervantes and whispered something in his ear. Cervantes nodded after a long moment and whispered something back. Then Sai walked out of the door... leaving the soiled past behind and stepping into his bright future, ignoring the soldiers who poured past him and his wife in all but name on their way into the chapel to apprehend his former friends. He didn't look back even once as the doors swung slowly shut behind the Lieutenant, who saluted his back briefly.


	52. An Interview with Cervantes

The self satisifed grin did not leave Cervantes's face as the door shut. If anything, it grew wider. As the combined might of Hellhound teams Alpha through Delta slowly spread out along the perimeter of the chapel like a river of dark clad bodies, Cervantes stepped forward and looked down at Kira from on high, like a victorious conquerer staring down at his defeated foe. He contemplated the idea of placing his foot upon the boy's chest and crushing the life out of him then and there... he had no doubt he could do it. But almost as soon as the thought formed he rejected it... an abnormality in his thinking, a barbaric fantasy that while enjoyable was totally impractical and counterproductive in the long term. Cervantes instead reached down and grabbed Kira by his lapel and dragged him to his feet with only a slight grunt of effort... a vindication of the strict excercise regime he forced himself to follow ever since he had been just a low level grunt in the terror squad of the old Green Peace organization.

Once the boy was on his feet Cervantes did not immediately relinquish his grip... he held Kira in place by his collar and poked at him with his stick, ignoring the glare he was recieving from the other people present, especially Lacus Clyne, standing well within arms reach. Kira met Cervantes's stare and did not back down... his world may have taken a staggering blow but he wasn't going to show the pain and uncertainty he was feeling to this despicable man. "The Ultimate Coordinator... you don't seem so ultimate to me... you're just a kid with a bloody nose and a surly look in your eyes. Can it really be that you are such a demon?" Cervantes said contemplatively. He didn't wait for an answer... he wasn't talking to Kira. Without warning he jammed the tip of his hard wood cane into Kira's gut and released his collar, leaving him half collapsed and gasping for air.

"Kira!" Lacus cried, diving forward to catch him before he fell. Cervantes let her get close... just close enough for Kira's eyes to fully come open and become aware again. Then Cervantes flipped the cane around in his hand and brought it down in a efficient and precise strike directly across Lacus's temples, knocking her back and to the floor with a loud "crack" of wood on skull. Blood trickled from the scalp wound he had inflicted and the girl gasped, stunned. Kira's eyes bulged and then dilated... he ignored his own pain and surged forward, fist rising to strike down the man who had brutally attacked Lacus. He was still at the fist rising part when Asmodeus, standing by behind his boss, stepped forward and jammed a 750,000 volt taser baton into the exposed armpit. Electricity crackled and clothing charred... Kira dropped like a log, twitching but quite unconscious.

"All of you are nothing. Whatever you may have been at the beginning of the day, before you came here into this chapel, you are not any more. A world leader... an elite pilot... a pop singing peace idol... a commando... a normal teenager... that's who you all used to be. Now that you have given yourself into my power, you are what I say you are. And you know what I see here?" Cervantes said quietly.

"You've won, Cervantes. You have us cold... this doesn't have to get ugly." Alkire cut in, his stomach sinking. Bad enough that they were, for all intents and purposes, captured... but it didn't seem like Cervantes had much interest in just turning them over to the military to be put into jail... he looked like he was planning something a lot more screwed up than that. Alkire started to casually inch his hand into a position where he could quick draw the pistol he wore at his back. Before he had even twitched more than a centimeter he stopped, frozen. A pistol had appeared from nowhere, muzzle pressed firmly against the back of his head. Alkire tensed... he'd never even heard the other person get behind him... he'd had no idea they were there. Whoever it was was damned good.

"Don't." the man holding the gun to his head advised. Alkire looked around... Victor and Vlad and James had also attempted hero moves but had similarly been stopped dead... James by a man mountain who dwarfed him like James did most everyone else. James was a big guy... six foot six and two hundred fifty pounds easy. The guy holding James in place with a hand on each shoulder had at least six inches and a good hundred pounds on him. Alkire recognized the man dimly... Sergeant Glory. A burgeoning legend in EFSOU... Alkire had been on team Omega and hadn't hung around with the Alpha dudes much but he'd heard Glory was a behemoth... if anything the tales were understated.

"You seem to have read my mind." Alkire said softly.

"You have a file."

"You're pretty good, to have snuck up on me... I used to teach a class in EFSOU about sneaking up on people and doing what you're doing now."

"I attended."

"You aren't big on words, are you?" Alkire said, loosening his muscles. What he was planning to do was dangerous, but doable. If he could drop to the floor fast enough and roll backwards he would get inside the reach of the other man and out of gun range... for maybe a second. With skill and a good deal of luck he could use that second to dump the other guy to the ground and come out shooting... hopefully enough of a distraction to let his teammates pull something of their own, because he didn't have anything after that.

"Don't, sir." the Lt. warned Ex-Major Robert Jones. The Lt. had respect for the man... he was one of the few people the Lt. actually considered something of a threat. If at all possible he did not want to have to execute him... which is what he would be forced to do if Jones made a play, like he was planning to. The Lt. could see the muscles relaxing all over the man's body... he was planning a drop and roll ploy... dangerous, perhaps suicidal, but as good as anything when you were probably going to be killed anyway... or thought you were. "If you continue to relax I will be forced to make you tense up again."

Alkire was almost ready... just another few seconds. "How's that?" he asked. The gun muzzle lifted from the back of his head, to reappear less than a second later at waist level. A thin but steely strong arm wrapped around his neck and half lifted him enough for the man behind him to turn him away from everyone else. Alkire tried to drop but the other man held him too tightly to slip free easily. Then the gun went off, shot muffled by his flesh... blowing an appreciable portion of his right hip onto the nearest side table. Alkire couldn't help it, his muscles tensed and locked from the pain and he slid to the ground when released by the other man, who promptly pinned him to the wall by mercilessly putting his foot on the wound and applying steady pressure, while keeping the pistol leveled at his head. Alkire looked up at the grey hair and grey eyes in the pale face of his captor... the man was vaguely familiar to him as well. Alkire's pain blurred eyes caught on the rank insignia the man wore at his collar. "Lieutenant?"

"Speaking."

"The?" Alkire asked... there were lots of Lieutenants in EFSOU. There was only one "The Lieutenant".

"Affirmative."

Alkire chuckled weakly, staring to drift into unconsciousness... his wound was bleeding quite freely... the Lt. must have loaded frag rounds into his gun or something because a wound to a non vital location like the hip should not have incapacitated him so quickly. "Guess I was outnumbered from the start then, huh? You and I will have to talk later about your... strategy... who... who taught you to do that... pull and twist?" Alkire's fluttered closed.

"You." The Lieutenant replied, making sure Jones was really out before administering a pressure bandage... the entire incident had taken only a minute or so, perhaps less. Cervantes was still waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question, pausing for effect. He had ignored the scuffle off to the side... he didn't care what the TEMPEST rogues were up to, no not when there were much jucier targets at hand. As long as the Hellhounds kept the TEMPEST fools contained Cervantes could care less what they did.

"You know what I see?" Cervantes asked again. "I see vermin. You know what you do with vermin? You stamp them out." he answered his own question this time, reaching down and bringing Lacus to her feet... by her hair. As soon as she was on her feet he backhanded her across the face and knocked her down again. "You cannot imagine how long I've wanted to do that."

"Beat on a defenseless girl? Hardly something to be proud of." Athrun snarled. Cervantes smiled at him.

"You don't understand, Mr. Zala. It is precisely because she is defenseless that I enjoy it. And not for the reason you are thinking... that I enjoy beating helpless people. No... I enjoy this because the tables have finally turned... instead of you people... you Coordinators... you abominations... having the power to hold me and humanity at your mercy, it is me who holds the whip hand now. You all dance to my tune now... I cannot yet visit a similar fate on your people so you will all have to be representatives. Though if all goes as planned, in several days time I will have visited partial justice upon your fellow monsters here on Earth... a very large battle is due to commence to wipe Carpentaria off the map once and for all."

"You can't honestly think you'll be able to just take on Carpentaria." Ysak snorted. "I've looked over their defenses and they can withstand just about anything you can hope to throw at them, especially with the geosynchronous warships in low orbit for defense."

"I agree with you. Carpentaria's defenses are nigh impregnable. Thus the defenses must be removed. I am reasonably certain the three hundred and twelve one hundred fifty kiloton nuclear warheads that will saturate the area before the attack commences will do an admirable job of removing them." Cervantes replied casually. He looked over at Victor. "You're an explosives expert... you tell me how much of a hole that will make."

"That's monstrous... that much force will affect mainland Australia as well... the fallout alone might render the continent uninhabitable." Victor retorted. Cervantes shrugged.

"Not my problem. Pestilential land anyway. But that's not the good part, you see. No... that isn't the surrogate beating. That little firework war in Australia is just a flash bang to distract the PLANTS while another fleet circles in from the back and nukes the entire Maius city line. We'll see how long the war lasts without any manufacturing capability for ZAFT."

"But there's millions of civilians who live in Maius as well!" Dearka objected. Cervantes smiled... more leered at him.

"Oh come, Coordinator. I'm Cervantes Zunnichi, Lord of Blue Cosmos. I helped engineer the attack that wiped out Junius Seven. Do you honestly think it bothers me at all, mass killing your kind? Sometimes such thoughts are all that get me up in the morning. If I could I'd burn every last one of you at the stake... or line you up and shoot you against a wall... personally. And I'd be laughing the entire time."

"Then are you planning on killing us, next?" Athrun asked, steeling himself. He did not want to die here. He wanted Cagalli to die here even less. But he didn't see any way out that ended with him being alive. Maybe he could get Cagalli out, but that was all he was going to be able to do. Cervantes lost his smile for the first time.

"By all rights I'd like to. Many have advised me to do exactly that... once you are all dead things will be much easier for me. But... no... I'm not going to kill you... though you will die. There's two main reasons for this." Cervantes replied, absently walking over to Cagalli. He cupped her jaw in one hand and looked her over contemplatively. Athrun tensed... but did not move, because he knew that would only end up in him dying uselessly. Cagalli tensed as well... Athrun could see her fists clenching so hard her entire hands turned white, but she did not move besides that. "Such a waste, that you would give yourself to such as him." Cervantes said softly, flicking his head at Athrun. "I almost regretted having to release that tape... we may have been political enemies but up until the point when I learned that you with sleeping with... that.." Cervantes indicated Athrun again. "... I did not bear you any particular ill will. If I'd had a son, I probably would have arranged for you to marry him. You would have been a welcome addition to the family... if your fiery nature could be properly channeled."

"No thanks... I'd prefer to sleep with someone as disgusting as you think Athrun is rather than anyone even remotely related to you. Hell, even a goat would be preferable to that." Cagalli snarled, wrenching her head out of his hand. "How did you find out where we were, anyway?"

"My son in law." Cervantes replied. "But don't blame him... Vanai managed to wheedle the information out of him after several nights of lovemaking... it's amazing the sorts of things a man will say when he lets a woman he loves ask the questions. That's one of the reasons I never let my women talk... never have any trouble with them. That's some sound advice to all you young lovers out there, by the way." Cervantes chuckled. He looked at his watch... he needed to get a move on... guests would be arriving soon and he didn't want anyone else to walk into this private gathering. It wouldn't do if someone saw Lacus Clyne or Cagalli Yula Attha... he'd have to account for their well being afterwards if that happened. And he wouldn't be able to do that.

"The first of the reasons why you are all going to remain alive is that Sai asked me to spare your lives. Admirable of him, no? Even as infuriated as your Kira made him, he still managed to find it within his heart to beg for your lives. His mercy is his only weakness... but I have the rest of his life to work on hammering that out of him. That is the first and lesser reason. The primary reason is that there are many fates worse than death. All of which I am going to enjoy you enjoying to the fullest. A certain project of mine is in need of new test subjects... Coordinator test subjects will be even better than naturals, my scientist assures me. And so... I will not kill you. Thus fufilling my promise to Sai not to kill you. But, if you happen to die during the course of the experiments... well... oops. He, he, he."

"You sick bastard." Ysak said viciously. He stepped forward, fists raised. Before he could move further the Lieutenant was in front of him, just standing there. The Lt. stared Ysak straight in the face and just barely shook his head no. Ysak ignored the Natural and swung an arm to push him out of the way... he didn't care about this henchman, he wanted to pound the boss man's face in. Ysak found himself flying through the air to land on his back... the Natural had grabbed his arm and almost effortlessly tossed him. Ysak quickly rolled to his feet but by that time the Natural was all over him, leveling him back down to the ground with a snap kick to the jaw. Ysak's head spun and he tasted blood in his mouth. He started to rise again but stopped when the pistol muzzle pressed down firmly between his eyes. He focused blearily on the Natural, who stared back impassively with featureless grey eyes.

"Futile." Cervantes commented. "Admirable, in a sense. But futile. I'd advise the rest of you not to resist... I'd so hate to have to break Mr. Hibiki's little neck here." he continued, kneeling by Kira and encircling his neck with his hands. Kira, unconscious, made no move to stop him. Cervantes smiled up at them as Hellhound members approached from all sides, moist cloths in hand that wafted fumes that made eyes sting and noses itch. Cervantes adjusted his hand position and pressed up under Kira's adam's apple with both thumbs, luxuriating in the power of the moment. He could choke the kid to death right here and now and no one would know. No one would stop him. "Am I doing this right, Andre?" Cervantes called, just before Vladimir succumbed to the anesthetic fumes on the cloth being pressed to his face. Kira started to choke from lack of air flow. Cervantes pressed a little harder, prolonging the moment of pleasure.

"Please... don't." Lacus cried softly from where she lay on the floor nearby... she had not yet recovered her feet from his backhand. Cervantes smiled once more, pressed harder for just enough time to cause Kira to choke a little louder and then relented. He stood and motioned for two Hellhounds to carry Kira to the transport outside. He crouched down over Lacus and glared into her eyes with all the intent he could muster.

"Lacus Clyne, begging for mercy. Maybe not as delicious as begging for her own life... but the life of her love will do for now." Cervantes whispered. All the rest of the Coordinators and their friends had been subdued and drugged for transport... the sleeping fumes would keep them unconscious until they arrived at JIHAD in South America. Where the Doc was eagerly awaiting their arrival. The TEMPEST commando's were being taken under Asmodeus's charge to the maximum security military prison at Levansworth in the Atlantic Federation, where they would stew until Cervantes could figure some way of using them or at worst killing them off quietly. "Do tell Frost hello for me... I've heard he has a bit of a thing for you." Cervantes taunted her as he pressed a drugged cloth to her face. She barely managed a single panicked wiggle before succumbing. Not nearly as much fun as her boyfriend... he had positioned the cloth too well. Ah well, he could replace the enjoyment later, when he saw the videos the Doc would likely take of all the proceedings. Right now he was going to go enjoy his daughter's wedding. He set off, whistling a jaunty tune of victory.

-------------------------------------------------

"Why am I still awake?" Victor asked as his captor locked his wrist and ankle cuffs to a single chain, then locked that chain around the chair support in the military bulk transport plane that was being used to carry the Hellhounds and their prisoners to the mainland Atlantic Federation. The Hellhound operative just grunted and left him there, seated comfortably enough if unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. Five small barred cages rested on the cavernous floor of the cargo plane nearby... the beast of a vehicle was designed for transporting mobile suits and it looked a bit ridiculous with just people in it. The cages, which were more like reinforced kennels used to restrain attack dogs, were each filled with a zip cuff bound and drugged TEMPEST member. Vlad also sported chains around his arms and wrists... thick chains. Plainly the enemy knew well the capabilities of his mechanical arms... though how much chance he would have to use them while drugged was arguable. The fifth cage... Victor's cage, he had no doubt, was of course empty. Victor sat there and waited for nearly thirty minutes, trying to think of what to do. He wasn't an infiltration specialist... getting out of restraints and picking locks were not things he was especially good at.

He just hadn't had the training. If he could get even a small explosive he would be free within seconds, but his captors were professionals... some of the best in the business... they had searched him very thoroughly and removed all of his hidden weapons and equipment. Vlad probably could have slipped out of the cuffs in less than a minute... faster if he just burst out. Of course that was likely a major factor in why Vlad was bound hand and foot, drugged and locked in a cage and Victor was not. The enemy no doubt knew he wasn't good at escape tactics and had planned accordingly. Victor was just about to start trying his restraints anyway, out of boredom if nothing else, though his mind was also racing with its usual speed... the girls and the kids had been carried to another plane, a long range passenger jet. They were being taken to a different location... one quite a distance away. Victor hadn't heard everything Cervantes had said but he doubted the kids were being taken anywhere conducive to their continued good health. Damn it all, but he was one of the experts and a good guy, bad shit like this wasn't supposed to happen to his friends.

"Go ahead... do your best. Surprise me." a somewhat weary voice said from nearby. The transport loading door started to close with an immense hydraulic whine and the Hellhound member who had spoken moved over to sit within easy speaking distance of Victor, but still well out of even normal reach.

"Why am I still awake?' Victor asked again, resolving to relax. He wasn't going to escape while being watched so he might as well conserve his energy.

"You don't recognize me, do you Victor?" the Hellhound said, removing his headset and brushing back his greying hair. It wasn't until the man almost unconsciously fingered his salt and pepper moustache that Victor realized who he was looking at.

"Asmodeus. Long time, swordsman."

"Very, fencer. I'd thought about you, you know." Asmodeus admitted, stretching out. He was glad that the scenario in the chapel was over. It may have been a victory for his side and for him personally... the person who had killed Ray was now within his grasp and all that remained was to exact his revenge... which he would do after fufilling his current mission. But it had still left a bad taste in his mouth... Cervantes's conduct had not been very professional, using his son in law and daughter as tools, taunting his enemies, beating helpless teenagers... such things did not sit well with the old soldier in him. His logical side acknowledged the wisdom of such scare and intimidation tactics... but he was human enough to also acknowledge he found them distasteful at some level. He was pleased he had won, but he did not need to humiliate or torment his enemies to wring every last drop of pleasure from the event like Cervantes did. Even his revenge was short and to the point in its execution. A life for a life. It was that simple.

"I can't say I returned the favor. But I imagine I was a bit busier than you, 'Deus." Victor replied. He was surprised to see his old dormmate again... he'd known that Asmodeus had been a soldier during their time at college together and that Asmodeus had returned to that career after his stint at school, and that Asmodeus was the man in charge of security for Blue Cosmos... but he hadn't expected to meet him in such a way. Much less talk to him... they were enemies... enemies did not talk... they shot each other and blew each other up.

Asmodeus sighed heavily... he hadn't been called by his nickname in a very long time... Cervantes never bothered and few others knew him well enough to be comfortable using it. "That's debatable, Victor. It's astounding how much work there is to do working Intelligence... maybe not as hair raising as planting bombs and laying mines, but it has its perks... fewer people shooting back at you."

"Suppose that's a good thing for an old man like you, 'Deus. Me... I kind of like it. Not exciting... but it's fufilling to know the enemy doesn't like you enough to want to kill you... we all have to find our importance somewhere." Victor said with a shrug. He was joking of course... he liked little less than getting shot at.

Asmodeus chuckled, recognizing the dig for what it was... a front line grunt insulting a rear echelon desk fighter. "Been keeping your sword hand in?"

"A little. You?"

"Not as much as I'd like. I'm even less spry than I used to be."

"So you wouldn't be up for a duel right now then? How about these terms... I win and my friends and I go free. I lose and I let you lecture me on my lack of respect for my elders."

Asmodeus chuckled again. "That's pretty funny, Victor. I'm not as easy to provoke now as I was at college. While I would love a duel I am far too busy... I have this mission to take care of. Maybe I'll drop by your cell sometime and we can have a bout... once the war is over I should have a lot more time."

"Been wondering about that. You cannot honestly think your boss's apocalyptic plan to nuke Carpentaria has any merit, can you? How could you condone the unrestricted planetary use of strategic nuclear weapons?"

"It is not my place to condone them. I had no hand in the planning of that phase of the operation. But between you and me and these walls, I expect the Coordinators will come up with some way of neutralizing the nukes... they're damn clever like that. The Australian Manuever will degenerate into a massive brawl of mobile suits and fleets and conventional weaponry... I still think we will emerge victorious... the BCPU's are being committed to the front and they should be more than sufficient to kick the door wide enough open so that the conventional forces can finish the deal off. It doesn't really matter... the Australian Maneuver is just a giant feint, distracting the PLANTS from the space fleet coasting in to attack Maius... I don't think the PLANTS will be able to stop all those missiles... certainly enough to preserve some industrial capacity but not enough to prevent the losses from crippling their military. By this time next month the war should be all but over."

"The war will be over... what about the Coordinators... will there be any left alive?"

"That's not for me to say. With any luck they will see the futility of the war after Maius goes down and they'll surrender to us before we are forced to annihilate them."

"Cervantes will just let it go if they surrender? I find that hard to believe, given the scene I witnessed in that chapel. He hates Coordinators on a very deep level. He won't give up his genocide just because they do something foolish like surrender."

"That's not for me to say." Asmodeus repeated.

"Why am I awake and not in a cage?" Victor asked after a brief pause.

"I wanted to talk with an old acquaintance. I may not have liked you but I always valued our debates, even if you had a tendency to settle things with your blade back then."

"I still have that tendency, though now I use claymores... as in the mines..." Victor replied. He waited a few beats. "Why are any of us alive at all? Common sense would dictate putting two or three grams of lead into each of our heads and dumping the bodies in the ocean on the way home. You collected the files on us... Levansworth isn't going to hold us for long, no matter what your boss thinks."

Asmodeus looked at Victor and shook his head. "Special precautions will be in effect to better contain you five... like you said I collected your files personally, so I'm not going to underestimate you. It won't be nearly as easy to escape as you think it will be. As for why you are still alive... orders. I'd prefer to kill you and dump the bodies, like you suggested. However, Cervantes seems to think we can use you somehow... convert you to our side, use you as hostages or scapegoats perhaps. He's dreaming if he thinks you'll work for him, but the idea of scapegoats has merit... if we ever need to knock off a public figure we have a ready supply of dupe corpses to take the heat in the freezer, so to speak." Asmodeus leaned forward. "I've answered some of your questions... answer one for me. Who killed Ray? My sources tell me it was Ysak Jule. Can you confirm that?"

Victor considered what to say... he knew it was Chanel who'd actually capped Ray Sark, but he wasn't going to admit that... Asmodeus was a cold hard snake... he'd think nothing of killing her back in revenge. Of course, saying Ysak did it wasn't a good fix either... Chanel would never forgive him if she found out he'd sicced Asmodeus on Ysak. Especially if Ysak ended up with a few grams of lead in his head as a result. Of course, Chanel might already be dead and Ysak too, Blue Cosmos was not known for being kind to captive Coordinators and Coordinator sympathizers... there weren't a lot of options. "I wasn't there and I never bothered to ask." Victor replied... true enough, since he hadn't been there when the shot was fired and he hadn't had to ask, Chanel had blurted it out of her own will.

"I see. Oh well, so much for the easy way... I'll have to use plan B. But that doesn't concern you, Victor." Asmodeus said, disappointed slightly. He hadn't expected Victor to say anything useful... it would be a death sentence for the boy if he did... of course it was already such, but Victor didn't need to know that. The Doc may have dibs on the rest of the Coordinators, but Ysak Jule was reserved for him and him alone... Cervantes had promised him that.

"Where did they take the kids?" Victor asked intently. Asmodeus considered telling him... but thought better of it. Operational security needed to be maintained. Victor couldn't use the information from his cell, but there was the faint chance of an escape or other unforseen event... best not to risk it.

"I'm done talking, Victor. It's been fun. It's time for you to go to sleep now."

"Damn you, 'Deus! Where are my girls? Where did you and your scabarous boss send them? Where are they?" Victor cried, straining at his bonds as Asmodeus brought up a dart pistol and aimed it with deliberate care.

"Dead... in as much as you'll never see them again, Victor. You have my condolences. I know what it's like to lose a child." Asmodeus said sadly and shot Victor in the side of the neck with a tranq dart. The fast acting drug knocked Victor out like a smashed light... he didn't even manage another syllable. Asmodeus stood and holstered the pistol before walking up towards the cockpit, humming a few bars to an old song about revenge and sadness.


	53. In the Heart of Darkness

Dearka's head swum and made the entire world seem to lurch drunkenly from side to side. It was like he was competely smashed, hangover and everything. Not that he would know anything about totally tying one on... as far as Miriallia had yet found out. Speaking of... where was Miriallia? His head was so fuzzy he couldn't concentrate. He forced himself to try and focus rather than slip back into the comforting darkness. He couldn't remember what yet, but something was plucking urgently at the back of his mind, telling him that he really needed to be doing something. Something was wrong... terribly wrong. He just couldn't figure out what. _Screw it._ Dearka thought with weary anger... he'd shelve the alarm for the moment... right now he wanted to figure out where the heck he was... he didn't remember going out drinking... now that Mir was around he generally had much better things to do with his nights.

_Of course I still haven't yet rounded that fabled home plate yet... no... focus, Dearka. Focus on what's around you. You can get angsty about your love life later. God damn, why am I so out of it? Why does my head feel like the Grand Buster's been playing soccer with it? And what the HELL is wrong with this lumpy whatever-the-hell it is I'm lying on? I've lain on softer rocks. Wait-a-minute... why is it so dark... and gloomy... and what the FUCK is that stench?_ Dearka sat up with a start... his head was getting clearer with every breath he sucked past his protesting nostrils. It smelled like something had died in here and been left to rot in a puddle of its own waste. That raised another good question. _Where is here? C'mon man... reconstruct... figure out where you've gotten yourself this time... MAN, I wonder what I was drinking... I haven't felt this bad in... ever._ Dearka cracked his eyes slightly wider... what light there was caused his eyes to water but the sensation rapidly faded... though the dull ache behind his forehead was still going full blast. He looked around. His surroundings did not make sense. The room he was in was no more than eight feet on a side and a maybe a hair more than six feet tall, maybe less. There was a single recessed light bulb that was so dim that Dearka could not make out any color at all in the room... just shades of shadow and darkness. There were no windows and only one door, in the wall he was facing, situated midway between the cot like contraption he was on and a similar thing on the other side of the... cell, for lack of a better word.

_This doesn't look like a drunk tank... even smells worse. And even if it is a drunk tank... where's the other drunks? Speaking of... where the hell is everyone? Last thing I remember is the... wedd...ing._ Light dawned in Dearka's mind, recollection coming back in a rush. Going back to Hawaii to pick up his and Mir's admittedly few belongings from Alkire's bunker. The interrupted feast... the invitations to Sai Argyle's wedding. Showing up early to the wedding, uncomfortable in his rented tux but mind full of odd thoughts about how great it would be to walk into a chapel with Mir under other circumstances. The confrontation with Sai... the arrival of his soon to be wife, Vanai Zunnichi and her father, Cervantes Zunnichi... the acknowledged master of Blue Cosmos. Sai striking Kira and knocking him down, Sai leaving in a fury... the door to the chapel shutting and leaving them all trapped in there with Cervantes and his security director Asmodeus Sark and more black uniformed and well armed soldiers than Dearka had been able to count.

Kira being tasered... Lacus struck on the head... Ysak getting tossed... the soldiers closing in with chloroform soaked cloths... choking sounds from somewhere as his vision greyed out... a voice begging for mercy... and then total darkness. It wasn't a pleasant realization to wake up to. They had been captured by Blue Cosmos. He... an elite ZAFT pilot... a second generation Coordinator with parents on the PLANT supreme council, had been captured by Blue Cosmos and was being held by them... somewhere. Admittedly his parents were distant towards him, but they were still his parents... they'd pay a ransom in money or blood to get him back alive and whole. Assuming Blue Cosmos ever even let on that they had him... Dearka dimly remembered Cervantes chortling about fates worse than death and a scientist requiring test subjects. He shivered... thinking such thoughts wasn't helping, his imagination would run away with him.

His head clear, Dearka looked around what he was quite sure was his cell. It hadn't improved since last he checked... it was still pretty much a worn and filthy metal box, eight feet on a side and roughly six feet tall. The recessed light fixture was covered by a sturdy wire mesh coated thickly with dust and grime. The single door was the only clean thing in the room, sturdy and solid looking steel with large bolts and rivets and a single slot for meals to be passed in through. There was no interior handle or key hole. His eyes started watering again... this time not from the after effects of the drug, which were rapidly clearing from his head... no, it was because his senses were returning to their accustomed sharpness that his eyes were watering... his nose was protesting very angrily at being forced to process the information it was receiving. He'd thought the smell was bad when he'd been half conscious... now that he was awake it was nigh unbearable. It far outclassed the cauldron of filth that had concealed the mine back at the estate in Switzerland... that had merely been disgusting... this was obscene.

He looked around and finally figured out where it was coming from. "Holy shit!" he flinched backwards and collided painfully with the wall behind him. He clapped a hand to his mouth and nose to help cap his gag reflex and used his other to shield his eyes to block out the horrid sight. The cell was double occupancy... though his roommate didn't look to be in the best of shape. Even from the brief glance he'd had it was easy to tell that the huddled shape in the other cot was a corpse, grey puckered skin drawn tight along bones, softer organs dried up and shriveled, blood a dusty sludge that was beginning to flake away. The body looked to be that of a ten year old child... boy or girl he hadn't been able to discern. Cause of death was likely the bent fork made from cheap aluminum protruding handle first from the jugular region of the throat... a self inflicted wound, judging from the dessicated hand still holding tightly to it.

"That's an excellent sign... my cellmate is a suicide victim." Dearka muttered to himself, trying to lighten his own mood. The sarcasm was a bit too dark for his current non-depressed tastes, but it was all he could muster. The room seemed to kill humor right from conception. "Doesn't say much for the place, if the guards let the... kid... kill themself. A right bunch of bastards... they didn't even bury the kid... they just left the corpse to rot. What sort of BASTARDS do that?" Dearka suddenly shouted, angry tears beading at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't known the kid who was lying dead, bled out in the other bunk... but no ten year old child should be placed in a situation where the best alternative was suicide... and no child's corpse should just be left to rot. He couldn't believe even Blue Cosmos could be that callous... even when they employed people like Vladimir they didn't desecrate the corpses of the dead. It did not speak well of the current situation that such a thing was allowed to happen here. The slot in the door shot open with a dry squeal, bright light streaming in briefly before being blocked by a formless shape.

"Shut the hell up, space monster. What are you crying about?" a harsh male voice said from outside. There was a loud bang of metal on metal and the door shivered slightly as the guard outside slammed something into the door.

"There's a goddamned corpse in here... what the hell? Don't you people have any sanitation standards? I knew you Blue Cosmos freaks were a bunch of shit-slicked slime suckers, but I at least thought you decent enough to bury children." Dearka snapped back, seeing absolutely no reason to be civil.

"Afraid of a body? Don't worry, Coordinator... that failed specimen can't hurt you." the guard spat. "And don't worry about the living conditions... you won't have to sustain yourself for long." the guard chuckled and moved away from the slot before something was shoved through. It looked a bit like a box lunch, though it hit the floor with a decidedly squishy sound. "Meal call... chef's specialty... minced mush. Fine fare for a monster."

Dearka stood... noting in the light that he was still dressed in his tux which was only a little rumpled... he hadn't been unconscious for long... hours at most, not days. And he wasn't that hungry... even before he saw the greyish slop in the cardboard box. That was good... that meant it hadn't been long since he'd been drugged. That meant he hadn't been here long... which meant that the others probably hadn't been here long either, if the others had been sent to the same place. That seemed likely...why send them all to different places... that'd be too troublesome. Dearka had the feeling that the more time he spent in the cell the worse it would be for him so having woken up soon was a good thing... a slim hope maybe but all he currently had. He nudged the box of what might have been gruel with his wingtip dress shoe. "How am I supposed to eat this crap?"

"You're equipped like a normal human is... I'm sure your superior mind can figure something out. Though if I hear right, not all your equipment works like a real humans... what's it like to shoot blanks, eh?" the guard chuckled again and started to slide the meal slot closed again. He paused halfway closed. "Ah... if using your hands is repellant I suppose you can use a utensil... there should be one in there somewhere... the last occupant declined to return it after his last meal. Bon Apetite." the slot slammed fully shut but Dearka could still faintly hear the chuckles of the guard as the man moved away from the cell door. He crouched and picked at the gruel with his fingers... it was always a good idea to eat to keep up strength, especially in tough situations, so he ate... but he promised himself that once he figured a way out of this bind he was going to find the guard and give him a very special thank you. Very special. Dearka settled in for a wait. It turned out he didn't have to wait long.

-----------------------------

Ysak was sitting on his "bunk", which he had pulled into the middle of the cell and set crosswise so he could get a better view of the slot in the door while still remaining off the floor and out of the puddles of biological waste that covered it to a depth of at least an inch. His shoes had been ruined in the process but it was a small price to pay... he'd never liked dress shoes and these weren't even his anyway... they belonged to some rental agency. The shoes currently hung off the other side of the bunk, within easy reach but off the floor... he didn't want to venture onto the cell floor without protection if he could at all help it, but wearing piss and shit soaked shoes was hardly appetizing either. He was sure the stench in the room was beyond belief... if he could actually catch more than a wiff of it past the scraps of shirt he had plugged his nose with. He glanced around the cell as he waited for something to happen. It was eight feet square and six feet tall, with a single mesh protected light bulb that cast just enough light for Ysak to be glad it wasn't brighter... he didn't need any sort of closer look at the floor.

He was the only person in the cell, though he was fairly certain it was meant for more than one person... the initial bunk placement had suggested room for another occupant, though there was currently no one but him there. He supposed that was sort of a good thing... he certainly wasn't feeling very chummy right now and besides... what help would anyone who had spent much time at all in the cell be? Ysak was fairly sure he'd be a wreck if he was forced to live in this place for more than a few days... living conditions were far from optimal. On the flip side of that coin, it would be nice if the enemy had been stupid enough to put him and one of his friends together... Ysak would even have held off on beating Kira into the ground for getting them this screwed... at least long enough for them to escape to safety, after which there would be a reckoning. But, unfortunately, this facility... wherever it was... seemed to have been staffed by the cream of the Blue Cosmos crop... common sense still ruled here and dangerous prisoners, as Ysak certainly considered himself and his friends to be, were kept strictly seperated.

He'd waited for perhaps an hour since he first regained conciousness when he heard faint footsteps out in the hall. It was amazing how being mostly denied two senses... sight and smell... had sharpened his hearing. The footsteps weren't loud marching or anything... just a group of sounds, like that made by a unit of soldiers on the move or friends out for a walk together. There were a lot of them though... at least ten, maybe more. The footsteps stopped outside his cell. Ysak put on his shoes and got ready to move... if an opportunity to escape came it would be right now. He tensed, preparing to spring... but was still caught off guard. He had forgotten about the bright light there was no doubt to be outside the cell. The indoor lighting, while by no means especially bright, was like fire in his eyes. He sprang forward but he was blinded and slightly confused by being unable to see. He slipped slightly on the sludge in his cell and was off balance when he made it into the hall. Not the most graceful of maneuvers, but seemingly successful... the enemy were cursing in surprise and they sounded like they were behind him. Ysak blinked rapidly and opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him was not welcome... sure he was past the two guys who had opened the door, but now he was right in the middle of at least six of their buddies.

All were dressed in blue and grey camouflage uniforms that were only slightly ragged, with radio commsets on their heads and mean looking sub machine guns in their hands. Ysak looked up just in time to catch the butt of one of those guns right above the bridge of his nose, the well delievered blow knocking him right off his feet with an arc of blood trailing from the wound. He hit hard and tried to roll, but there were too many pairs of legs around him, he couldn't get anywhere. Then they all started kicking him. Ysak hadn't lead a very peacable life... he'd always been getting in fights since he was young. He knew about bully's and fighting superior numbers and dirty fights. He knew that staying on the ground like this was going to get him killed. But try as he might, he just could not regain his feet... for all that he was faster, stronger and certainly smarter than his assailants, they outnumbered and surrounded him, and had the position of advantage. Heavy steel toed boots thudded into his legs and ankles and hips and stomach and chest with regularity, gun butts were always ready to club him back to the ground when he gained a knee. The guards seemed to be enjoying themselves, they certainly did not appear to lack in commitment or energy.

"That's enough." An officious voice said from Ysak's left... from down the passageway that extended past at least three other cell doors and around a right turn out of sight. Ysak looked up through pain teared eyes... mercifully they had left his head alone so only the initial strike dripped blood into his eyes. The kicking stopped but Ysak felt the muzzle of a gun press firmly into his upper spine and could sense the other muzzles trained on him as well. The man who had stopped the guards from kicking him to death didn't look like anyone special... an average middle aged businessman, maybe a lawyer or accountant, in a standard grey suit and tie. The man even had glasses. He looked utterly bored and slightly put upon, with an unpleasant sneer on his lips. "You've had your fun... save him for mine. And remember, Captain Sark want's him intact. He's got something special in mind for him."

"But... sir." one of the guards started to protest.

"Did I say something unclear?" the businessman snapped, eyes turning cold. The guard shuddered and shook his head. "Excellent. Now, go collect the specimen in cell Alpha one. I find that group sessions always tend to get the initial message across better than individual interviews. Data files suggests that these two specimens know each other quite well... friends even. Odd as it is to think that space monsters can concieve of friendship."

"Yes, sir." one of the guards said, beckoning five of his fellows to follow him. The two remaining guards continued to cover Ysak very closely, though one did haul him to his feet. Ysak had trouble standing... his head may have been spared but the rest of him had been worked over pretty good... he felt like he'd been hit all over with a meat tenderizer. The guards "helped" him stand... by jamming their guns painfully into his side whenever he started to sag. Ysak watched as the larger unit of guards opened another door. Dearka charged out like a shark headed for bloody water. He dropped one guard with a kick to the groin and felled another with hand chop to the neck, crushing the windpipe. He was still turning to hit the next guy when one of the others whipped out a police baton and cracked him across the back of the head with it, throwing the blond haired Coordinator down to the ground hard. The standing guards re-commenced their kicking frenzy, but this time with considerably more vehemence than before... one of their fellows was mewling in a ball holding his crushed organs and another was slowly choking to death through his ruptured windpipe. The businessman calmly ruffled a hand through his thinning brown-grey hair and smirked at Ysak. He let the kicking drag on for several seconds, just watching Ysak's expression. Finally, when Dearka's struggles started to taper off, the businessman held up a hand.

"Enough." he ordered crisply, not even bothering to look. "Revive him and bring him. I can already tell it's going to be an interesting session." The businessman picked up a briefcase from the floor at his feet and gestured for Ysak's guards to precede him down the passageway to the right. The guards manhandled Ysak between them, though there wasn't far to travel... the passage ended at a very secure looking steel door only a few meters away. The businessman punched a code into a key panel and the door hissed open... to reveal a small room with two doors and a wicked looking sentry gun protruding from the wall. The remotely or automatically controlled machine gun tracked Ysak as he was half carried through the room and through one of the doors. The next room was much bigger... creepy and dank stone walls, stone flagstone floor, dark stone ceiling... it looked like a dungeon out of a movie. A steel table stood incongrous in the middle of the room, bolted to the ground. Four sturdy metal chairs were also bolted to the ground about a foot apart on one side of the table, opposite them was an overstuffed blue leather armchair. Ysak was dragged to one chair and forced down into it, his hands were cuffed to his seat, one to a side, and his legs were similarly restrained.

He was at the far left of the line of metal chairs... when Dearka was carried in, still mostly limp, he was secured into the far right chair. The guards took up posts behind the two Coordinators, not quite out of sight but concealed enough that twisting his head to see them was very uncomfortable. The businessman walked into the room with a bounce in his stride and the sneer on his lips... a hideous combination. The man carefully set his briefcase on the table and pulled the armchair to a more comfortable spot before sitting down. A guard disappeared out of the room for several minutes and returned with a fold out drink table and several bottles of water, which he set up by the businessman's side, within easy reach. The guard shut and locked the door and resumed his post behind Dearka, who was just starting to wake up again.

"Who the hell are you?" Ysak demanded, not wanting to let the Blue Cosmos fanatic think he had the upper hand, though he undeniably did. The man was no doubt used to having prisoners be afraid of him... he was in for a rude surprise if he thought Ysak would be at all like that. "What do you want with us?"

The businessman leaned forward and steepled his fingers, as if in thought. He seemed to be studying Ysak. "You're a brash one. Excellent... it appears the files I was provided are at least initially accurate... you'd be surprised how much a person's psyche can change under stress... many of the people I've interviewed did not act at all like the people their files suggested they were. Not the case with you... so far."

"Was that supposed to be a threat? Do you think I'm scared of you... Natural?" Ysak sneered himself, throwing a lot of venom into his words. "Do you honestly think I'm going to tell you anything... you work for Blue Cosmos... you'll kill me as soon as you can."

"Definitely true." the businessman replied. "My name is Charles. Your's is Ysak, right?" Ysak did not respond. "Of course it is. I'm pleased to meet you, Ysak. You and I will unfortunately not be seeing much of each other... just this one session in all likelyhood. Captain Sark has very specifically requested that you be kept alive, whole and coherent for when he arrives here himself... some eighteen hours from now. You see... it's not the alive part thats tough... the human body can withstand an amazing amount of punishment before succumbing... even more so for prime young Coordinators like yourself, I'm sure you know. But since you must be whole and most importantly cognent of your situation... well, that severely limits how well you and I can get along. See, I'm an easy man to get along with, as your friends will quickly learn. All I need to remain happy is cooperation from my patients... all you have to do is answer my questions satisfactorily. Failing that, my sadness can be appeased with varying amounts of pain and suffering on your part. I'm not a malicious man, Ysak. I don't particularly want to torture you or your friends. All I want is answers, so we can all get to where we want to go... me, home to my wife and kids... you, to your grave. The quicker I get the answers I need, the quicker we all get what we want. Pain doesn't even have to come into it... though I must say, given what I've read, I don't think it will be that smooth, do you?"

"You're a sick bastard. I'm not telling you anything." Ysak spat a wad of blood and spit he'd been saving ever since the gun hit him in the head. The bloody spittle did not make it to Charles, but it did splatter across the cover of his briefcase. Charles sighed and withdrew a hankerchief from a pocket of his jacket and wiped the fluid away.

"As expected. Shall we commence?" he asked, speaking rhetorically. "Where is your main base? The one where the Kusanagi was hidden and where the Archangel and the Kusanagi rendevous?" Charles asked, taking out a notepad and pen. He waited ten seconds during which Ysak just stared at him with a superior grin on his face. Charles sighed again and placed pad and paper on the table. He flicked a hand. Ysak tensed for the blow, but none ever landed. Instead Dearka, who was just swimming his way back to full awareness, received a roundhouse punch to the jaw which snapped his head around and sent blood flying from smashed lips. The guard followed up the blow with a hard left jab to Dearka's gut, which audibly drove the breath from him. Charles flicked his hand again and the guard backed off. Ysak stared, speechless with fury.

"GODDAMN YOU!" Ysak shouted, heaving at his restraints to no avail... even a Coordinator can't just burst out of handcuffs. Especially with the near zero leverage he had sitting in the bolted to the floor chair.

"Shouting won't do you any good. The room is soundproofed, and all of your friends are in similar situations as you. All your yelling does is annoy me. You don't want that... I get exponentially less pleasant when I'm annoyed." Charles said in a bored voice. "Now, you see, this is how it is. Because of my orders, I cannot hurt you. I thought I made that clear before, but perhaps I was not plain enough. Thus the presence of Dearka here... I'm under no such orders with regard to him... oh, he must be kept alive, but whole and cognent is totally up to my discretion... the Doc only needs his body, not his mind. And limbs are not impossible to replace these days... you've encountered an example of such, the records say. Thus, my current strategy, as you have no doubt realized... you are smarter than me, after all. I'll ask you questions. You give me answers. For every non-answer or smart remark, Dearka will get progressively more beaten up. We're currently only on the surface marks... we'll graduate to the lesser bones if I don't like the next couple answers." Charles said calmly and without venom.

He started to pick up the pen and pad again, but stopped and gave Ysak a glare that sent ice running through his veins. "And if you prove resistant to that system of persuasion... Dearka is JUST a friend after all... well, my files indicate a certain attachment to two females also in our custody. My children are both boys... I have a soft spot for males. I have no such pity for females... whiny bitches. You don't want your loved ones under my thumb, Ysak. Now that things are clear, let me ask again. Where is your main base? Where is the Archangel and where is the Kusanagi?"

Ysak looked at Dearka. Dearka eyed him back, a grim look in his eyes. He was awake enough to have heard the interchange... his situation was unenviable. Especially since that while Ysak could reveal the base in Antarctica, he didn't currently know where the Archangel or Kusanagi were... he couldn't give a satisfactory answer. "I don't know" didn't seem very likely to be the sort of answer Charles was looking for. "Look... I can't really tell you that. The ships are mobile, they could have moved since..." Ysak started to say. Charles shook his head.

"No... no, I'm afraid that won't do. I'm sorry, Ysak, but that qualifies as a non-answer. Please, consider your friend... I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be suffering like he is, if your situations were reversed." Charles informed them.

"Actually I can..." Dearka started to say before one guard belted him across the jaw twice in quick succession while a second kicked him viciously in the shins and clubbed his gut with a baton. Dearka coughed up mucus stained thickly with red, it dripped slowly down his chest, utterly ruining his tuxedo. Ysak gritted his teeth... this wasn't going well.

"Again..." Charles began to say, leaning back to take a sip of water as he settled in for a long haul.

--------------------------------

Ashino walked without hurry through the bowels of the JIHAD complex. He was moving at a slow pace deliberately... his pulse was elevated and he had to admit he was getting antsy but he ruthlessly denied himself the luxury of hurrying. He frowned... normally he had no trouble with being in the facility that was the closest thing he had to a home, but ever since the war started it had begun to feel... constrained. Too small. Perhaps an understandable side effect of being allowed to experience the real world at long last, but still disconcerting. He didn't like the feeling... he didn't have much to cling to in his life, but his home, such as it was, was one of those things... and now it was slipping away with him barely realizing it. He set aside the lesser worry for the situation at hand... eight hours before a passenger jet had arrived unscheduled but not unexpected at the concealed landing strip that serviced the non military side of the installation. Ashino and the other BCPU's had been in a rest cycle at the time, he had only just found out that nine prisoners in their late teens had been unloaded from the jet and rushed into the facility and secured in the detention wing amidst a great deal of hubbub and secrecy.

Ashino had questioned several people as best he was able... few were willing to talk to a BCPU, even him, and those few who did either did not know anything or deliberatly concealed information from him for enjoyment... there were a lot of bastards like that at the facility, who thought they were better than a BCPU just because they were pure human. They treated him like a computer console that could move and talk and repair itself over time... not even as a living creature. A dog recieved more respect than he did from most people, even scientists at the facility. The only one that ever showed him any measure of respect or care was the Doc... and he was the third favorite son currently, behind Cray and Frost. But Ashino didn't need the respect of others... his respect for himself was more than enough. And while he didn't revel in it like his fellow BCPU's, Ashino admitted that when he couldn't get respect, he was more than glad to take the fear humans felt for him as recompense. Fear had ended up being the emotion that was most useful thing today.

It hadn't taken very much persuasion to get the guard to give him his passkey. Ashino had known the man for five years... had first met him by walking in on an illicit affair between the man and a female scientist. Ashino hadn't told on them and had performed a few other favors for the man over the intervening time. This combined with a slight roughing up in one of the observation dead zones had produced the passkey along with some interesting information, in exchange for Ashino's continued silence on the guards predations amongst the female BCPU candidates, the promised return of the passkey and a very badly sprained wrist on the guards part... Ashino had not appreciated the man's attempt to draw his baton. Ashino wasn't Frost or Cray... but a lot of people seemed to think that made him weak. It did not. If Ashino had wanted he could have crushed the guard's skull like a grape bewteen his hands... by all rights he should have as a man who preyed on children wasn't fit to live in his mind, but he'd waited... the news was important enough that he could not suffer the issue of explaining his action to the Doc.

Ashino wasn't particularly worried about getting in trouble or being prosecuted for killing the guard... the Doc was the law here and wouldn't get rid of a valuable asset like Ashino over just one guard... Frost had killed more than two dozen and was still around. Thinking of Frost, Ashino allowed himself to extend his stride slightly. Last time he'd checked Frost had been chilling out with an iced drink and a bloody horror movie down in his cell, but such things could change in an instant and Ashino needed to get to the prisoners before Frost did. Once Frost learned that Lacus Clyne, Kira Yamato and all their friends were only a few hundred meters away he would be after them like a wolf after fawns... Ashino was reasonably certain Frost would have little issue with killing his way past the guards to get to his hated enemies. But all that was hopefully in the future... as a matter of course Frost did not have Ashino's rapport... such as it was... with the guards and other sources of information and so he wasn't likely to learn anything until Cray told him.

Within minutes Ashino found himself at the security doors that led into the prison wing where Blue Cosmos hostages and prisoners were held for interrogation or ransom, or for execution. Also within the wing was the control center for the cameras and sentry gun turrets that were sprinkled throughout the walls and ceilings of most of the facility as well as the group holding cells used to contain groups of new BCPU candidates. The current candidates had been moved to temporary quarters elsewhere to ensure isolation of the prisoners, who were being treated with almost laughable caution. Four teenage guys and five teenage girls were hardly a threat to the security of the facility, even if they were mostly Coordinators. Especially given the condition they were bound to be in after... Ashino did a few mental calculations since he was denied the use of a wristwatch for safety reasons... nearly two hours of interrogation. Ashino eyed the cameras and gun barrels that tracked him as he swiped the card and entered the passcode. The Doc almost certainly knew what he was about... Ashino had figured this out when the first sentry gun he'd come across hadn't wasted him... and therefore the Doc had given his tacit approval as well. No doubt he wanted whole Coordinators to experiment upon, rather than bloody scraps. The doors hissed open and Ashino stepped into the small section of passageway and confronted the second set of doors. He reached out to enter the second password.

"Hold the door!" Frost called from behind him. Ashino turned... the other BCPU was trotting down the corridor towards him, every nerve and muscle wired tight. Frost was excited, it was plain to see. Ashino did not have to stop and think of why. Frost carried a combat knife, dark with crimson, in one hand, unmindful of the drip. Doubtlessly a spoil from the first guard to cross his path. "I've got a special appointment!" Frost cackled, hurrying his steps into a near run. Ashino grimaced... this was sooner than he'd hoped for. But not too soon... he jammed the door close button, meanwhile cupping his hand to his ear as if he couldn't hear what Frost had said. Frost still almost made it over the lintel before the door shut... he slammed into the six inch thick steel door hard enough to make it quiver. "Damn you, Ashino! You'll regret that!" Frost shrieked from the other side of the door. Ashino considered a moment before lashing out with a foot and demolishing the control panel on this side... shorting out the controls on the other side of the door.

Nothing a little repair wouldn't fix, but Ashino doubted Frost had the patience for that... and he'd have a lot more trouble getting help too. Ashino opened the inner door and entered the prison block. He paused a moment and considered. He wanted to meet the pilots he'd fought against in the desert for a while now and he wanted to meet the pilots who had fought Frost and emerged alive and intact as well. Ashino himself could not do that, at least as far as the simulators indicated. But while that meeting would satisfy his curiousity in a professional manner, he found himself heading towards the female side of the cell blocks. There would be a lot of interesting insight into the minds of the pilots to be gained from interviewing their lovers... such a close emotional bond was mostly beyond his understanding and he was intruiged to know how its dynamics worked to influence pilots of such skill.

Ashino looked into the cells as he passed... they were as filthy and dreary and disgusting as he remembered. He'd been sent here for punishment for a bad attitude once. He'd lost the attitude when he'd made BCPU 3... sarcasm just wasn't so funny after the operation... but the memories of the place had stayed. People had died here... other BCPU hopefuls he'd known. Ashino unconsciously shrugged. They were dead and he was not. He was good enough and they weren't. That was the end all and be all of it. Most importantly to the current situation, all the cells were empty. That meant all the females were being interrogated as a group. His pace quickened again... the guards had been given specific orders not to touch the prisoners except as the interrogaters indicated, but when beautiful females were involved male reason tended to be left behind... too often in a pile of torn clothing. While he himself was fully in control of his emotions and physiological responses... far more than any human he'd ever met... he knew the guards were not such... that they were in fact some of the lowest scum of the earth. They would be more than happy to make the ladies acquaintances... willing or not. He couldn't hear anything through the soundproofed door but now was not the time for dithering, he kicked open the door and strode in like he owned the place. The scene that greeted his eyes was far from pleasant, but not quite yet at the stage he had been fearing. Quite. Barely.

----------------------------

It had not been a fun time for Lacus. For that matter it hadn't been a fun time for Cagalli or Miriallia... or Katie and Chanel either. But it had been especially bad for Lacus. They'd all been drugged and woken up in seperate cells, cells so dirty Lacus wouldn't have kept hermetically sealed supplies in them, cells that stank beyond her ability to comprehend. Blood, waste, decay, neglect, and death despoiled the air and the rank stench of terror also seemed to seep out of the very walls. Lacus had tried to tell herself that she had just been letting the shock of captivity get to her... but it was a hard illusion to overcome. Especially with Cervantes Zunnichi's last words cycling over and over through her head. "Do tell Frost hello... I've heard he has a bit of a thing for you."... the icy, almost gleefully delievered sentence twisted in her mind like a venemous serpent, driving away conscious thought and threatening to bring blind panic in its place. Lacus did not have good memories of the last time she'd met Frost, in Switzerland. And Kira had been around to protect her then.

_Attempt to protect her... Frost ended up striking down Kira as well, despite his best efforts._ an unpleasant side of her mind wickedly pointed out. Now she had been locked in a dark smelly cell, with no idea where she was, no means to escape on her own and no idea if she was totally alone or if her friends were just a wall away. She had tried to take comfort in the certain knowledge that Kira would be moving heaven and earth to get to her... _assuming he's even still alive... Cervantes Zunnichi looked like he wanted to choke him to death and Frost doesn't bear him any good will either... nobody in Blue Cosmos does. And unless I'm totally imagining things, I am in a Blue Cosmos stronghold._ She'd wrestled with despair and panic for quite some time... at least an hour, until finally she was able to calm herself. Panicking would only makes things worse... being calm and serene would work to her advantage as no doubt her captors expected terror to reduce her to rabbit like meekness. They had another thing coming if they thought her meek... sure, maybe that was the impression a lot of people got, since they saw her expressing her ideals in song and forum in public. But there was a steel hard core inside her, a sense of purpose and determination that would not let her falter, would not let her back down and let the world spiral into darkness.

She'd started singing herself a silly little song, more a nursery rhyme than anything thought out, but the repetitive sounds and familiar motions helped center herself and collect her thoughts, like it always did. She'd sung like that for perhaps fifteen minutes, voice slowly rising from a near whisper to a normal talking voice to close to the normal volume she reserved for when she sang to private audiences at parties without voice amplification. A practical side effect of the singing was that maybe her friends would hear her and know she was about as okay as she could get. Someone had heard her, that was for sure. She'd barely reached her stride volume when at least one someone had started banging very loudly on the metal cell door. She ignored it, raising her voice louder. If they didn't like what she was doing they could come in and try to stop her... she could out sing any noise they could make on the far side of a secure door. She'd felt very proud and determined and courageous right then... until the metal slot in the door whammed open and a small cylinder was dropped through.

The cylinder had barely bounced twice when a thick grey mist began spewing from it. Lacus had tried closing her eyes and holding her breath, but it was no use against the tear gas, which quickly left her gasping for breath and crying uncontrollably on the bunk. The people outside waited a few minutes and then yanked the door open and pulled her out, still gasping and weeping. She'd been helpless to do anything but cough as a pair of bulky and well armed guards had muscled her down a brightly lit passageway and through a pair of doorways. She'd tried to call out for help but the gas had irritated her throat and mouth so much she could barely manage a croak. The guards had sat her down in a hard metal chair and cuffed her hands to it's armrests, though they'd left her legs free. She'd been staring around the dank and dark dungeon-y type room for perhaps two minutes, slowly recovering her sight and voice when the door banged open again.

This time the girl that was being lifted between the Blue Cosmos guards... dressed in reasonbly well fitting blue and gray splotch patterned uniforms and armed with wicked looking stub nose machine guns... was Miriallia. She was still in her evening dress, just as Lacus was. She wasn't coughing... obvious she hadn't irritated the guards by singing like Lacus had. But she had sported a fresh and livid bruise under her left eye... clearly a punch mark. Lacus frowned in anger... Miriallia was one of the nicest people she'd ever met... and one of the most non-threatening... most of the time. Like any person she had buttons you could press that would turn her from nice girl next door to angry lioness, but she was hardly much of a threat to two well armed soldiers. There was no need to have struck her in order to get her to come with them. Of course, there was little need to have tear gassed Lacus herself for the same purpose... obviously the people here did not believe in the principles of restraint. The guards cuffed Miriallia into the chair next to Lacus. This time the guards did not leave, instead standing at rest behind them, one behind Lacus and the other behind the stunned Miriallia. Mir was just beginning to recover her full senses when the door almost slammed off it's hinges. Lacus looked up with hope... surely such a violent opening presaged Kira or Athrun or one of the other guys breaking in to rescue them. No such luck... a tangled ball of three guards and a single set of shapely but well muscled limbs clothed in a green silk dress rumbled through the doorway, followed quickly by two more guards.

Cagalli got in more than a few good licks... unlike Lacus and Miriallia she reveled in physical activity and had never shied away from ungirlish things like knife fighting, fist fighting, gun fighting and lots of other types of fighting. While other girls of her social station learned diplomacy and business management and horseback riding and musical instruments, she'd been in martial arts lessons or on the pistol range or playing sports. She could take good care of herself... as she'd proved in several situations during the last war... she'd given Athrun a run for his money on a deserted island from what Lacus had heard... sure, she'd caught him off guard but Lacus knew Athrun was no easy target for anyone, much less a teenage tomboy princess. In any case, Cagalli hadn't come with the guards quietly. She was a tornado of kicking legs and scratching fingernails, coupled with karate chops, knee thrusts and head butts. To Lacus it looked like Cagalli was working out more than a little bit of stress on the guards... something Lacus very much wished she'd been able to do.

Pacifism aside, she was sure these men did not deserve any mercy she might be able to muster up. They did not deserve to die... but that didn't mean that capturing them had to be painless either. However, the elation quickly faded, as even as Cagalli managed to ground one guard with a open fisted strike to the nose that left him twitching sporadically on the floor, the two others not in the melee drew extendable metal batons and clubbed her down from behind. The remaining four guards wasted no time in securing the semi-conscious Cagalli to the chair to the left of Mirillia, two down from Lacus. They also secured Cagalli's legs to the chair legs, which were bolted to the ground, as were the legs of all the chairs. There was a steel table in front of them, similarly secured to the floor and beyond that a large but worn looking armchair with a blue leather covering.

Next in the door were Chanel and Katie, both carried in semiconscious or unresisting by groups of guards. Both bore signs of recent physical abuse... a pair of black eyes for Katie and a stomach welt for Chanel...clearly the guards had not wanted to chance another altercation with their female prisoners after their bad experience with Cagalli... the man she'd downed had been dragged away flopping limply... the guards hadn't looked hopeful about his recovery. It was too bad, in Lacus's opinion... as good a fighter as Cagalli was, she was mostly just spirit and fire and instinct... Katie and Chanel were both trained by combat experts in hand to hand fighting... they probably could have accounted for several guards each if they'd been allowed to fight. Of course the aforementioned guards would likely be dead, which was contrary to Lacus's wishes... but she wouldn't have been able to blame them. Killing someone in self defense was not okay... but it was sometimes necessary. She could admit that. I

f the guards tried to tear her dress off she'd show them how well she herself could fight... she was sure they'd be surprised. Following Katie and Chanel in was an older woman... maybe thirty five or forty. She was dressed in a severe red business suit of average quality. She had dark blond hair bound back in a tight bun and worn spectacles. She looked like a secretary from sort of workplace drama movie. She had a blue leather briefcase in one hand and a thermos of liquid in the other. The secretary strode calmly over to the armchair and set her case down on the table, with the thermos of what now smelled like tea next to it. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose as if to clear away a headache and then turned to the five girls. "My name is Angela. Please, call me Angie. I'm sure we'll all become very close friends. We certainly are going to be spending a lot of time together." the woman said with a cheery smile. She beckoned at the guards, who mostly left the room, leaving a single guard standing at port arms behind each girl.

"What do you want with us?" Cagalli demanded, experimenting with how far she could move while cuffed to the chair. It was a distressingly short distance... no more than an inch or two. She wasn't going anywhere until she figured out how to get out of the cuffs.

"I'm going to have to ask that you quit fidgeting around like that, Ms. Cagalli. Oh, pardon me, Mrs. Cagalli. You see, it makes me nervous when my patients fidget. When I get nervous I have this defense reflex... I get mad." Angela said, her voice cheery until the last part, where it twisted into something almost feral. "When I get mad, my I may do things I would ordinarily not even consider. Observe." Angela flicked her wrist casually, as if shooing off a fly. Without warning the soldier behind Cagalli stepped forward and slapped her hard across the mouth, following the slap up with a backhand that rocked her head back violently. The guard readied another blow, but Angel flicked her hand again and he backed off. "I trust we all understand?" Angela asked, voice lighthearted and almost breathless again.

"I understand you're a very sick person..." Katie said.

"...Who gets their kicks hurting other people." Chanel finished. "Just the sort of person..."

"...Blue Cosmos would use as an interrogator. You bitch." Katie completed. Angela looked at them with annoyance. She withdrew a pen and note pad from her briefcase and tapped the pen on the steel table.

"That is interesting. I'd heard that twins could sometimes complete a thought for their sibling or accurately predict their actions or thoughts, but never have I seen something like this. There's something about you two girls... I can see I'll have to be more careful with you two." Angela wrote herself a note... it was probably nothing but better to have investigated for naught than wasted something potentially valuable. "That curiosity aside, the finishing each other's sentences thing? Yeah, that makes me nervous." Angela told them, a wicked smile distorting her face. "I'm a twitchy scared rabbit in truth... it doesn't take much to get me nervous. I'm sure you'll learn what does and does not make me nervous over the course of our association. Well, you will if you want to live very long anyway." Angela said, flicking her wrist at Katie and Chanel, who braced themselves. The guards did not hit them. Instead they reached into lockers hidden by the wall behind them and withdrew buckets of water. Ice water, glacial ice melted from the tops of the mountains. Without ceremony they drenched Chanel and Katie, who shrieked in shock at the freezing water. "Oh, it seems we've ruined your dresses... too bad, they were quite nice." Angela commented. "We can't have you shivering all over the place, poor dears..." Angela nodded at the guards, who wasted no time in tearing the sopping wet dresses off them, leaving them in their underclothes, still damp and shivering.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Miriallia cried. "You're supposed to be an interrogator, aren't you? Why haven't you asked any questions? Don't we have to answer wrong before you start hurting us? Isn't that how it's supposed to like?"

Angela smirked. "You watched too many action movies, dear. Maybe if I had even the least bit of respect for you girls, it might be something like that. But one of you is a Coordinator... a space monstress of renown. And the rest of you little tarts are Coordinator lovers... the lowest of the low, race traitors. You welcomed the enemy into your arms and your bed and defiled yourselves in the process. You must be punished for your stupidity... after we've purged your taint... contained it in the case of Miss Lacus... then the questions can start. Right now it's purgatory." Angela said, rubbing her hands together in delight. She opened her briefcase further and started taking things out... jumper cables, batteries, silken cords, jars, pliers and other normally innocuous items that took on a hideous new light in the current situation. "Of course it's not quite true... not all of you have slept with a monster... Miriallia, Chanel and Katie are all still virgin... actually a bit of a shock in this day and age. Your prudence is to be commended... but the intent for taboo was there, that there can be no doubt. We have to punish you to save you from yourselves... your wantoness shames all Natural women. I'd sooner bed a crocodile than a Coordinator... I find it incomprehensible, where could such sweet girls as you have gone wrong?"

"You're going to torture us?" Lacus asked , shocked in disbelief. She remembered the conversation they had with TEMPEST in Hawaii before Pearl Harbor... she'd been sure that torture was a thing of the past. Now it was staring her in the face... not a pleasant awakening.

"Bonus points for the Coordinator... she can recognize and state the obvious. Now if only the rest of her race could be so observant, the world would be a better place." Angela mocked. She placed the batteries and jumper cables off to one side and then unscrewed a jar and tapped out the contents onto the table... a tarantula of abnormal size, as big as James's hand. With deft and sure motions Angela stabbed a barbed hook through the thickest part of the spider, the hook was attached to a strong thin cord that was tied to a metal rod about three feet long. Angela held the rod and lifted the writhing spider off the table, swinging it around like a load on a crane, making happy little noises of enjoyment. "Treatment proscribed... shock therapy for the twins... the belt for Miriallia... the hot poker for the fiery Mrs. Cagalli... and the icky spider for the delicate Ms. Lacus." Angela informed the guards. She stared at Lacus and licked her lips. "Don't worry... the venom has been removed... the bite will be very painful but you won't die, Ms. Lacus. You don't like spiders, do you? I can get a snake or a centipede or a rat if you aren't an arachniphobe." Angela swung the spider over so it passed within inches of Lacus's head... she couldn't help but flinch away. She wasn't arachniphobic... but the spider certainly wasn't something she wanted to have placed on her, much less bite her.

"Miss Angela..." one of the guards called hesitantly. Angela looked over with a bemused expression.

"What?" she snapped. The guard looked almost ashamed.

"Well... well, it seems a waste... I mean, I know we're supposed to soften them up for you... but, well... it's been a long time for me, you see. I've been on guard duty here for months without relief. Would... would it be okay if we were to... well, y'know... before we start purging them?"

"They'll still be suitable for that after you purge them." Angela pointed out. The guard shook his head slightly and looked at her plainitively... Lacus realized the guard and his friends couldn't be more than a few years older than her. Of course, right now that mattered very little to her, since she had a very bad feeling about the way the conversation was going. It was worse having to keep an eye on the spider, which was twisting on the end of its cord as Angela absently bobbed it around, inching it closer to Lacus with every bounce. Angela sighed... and withdrew the spider. "Very well. Be quick... shouldn't be hard for men your age. And try not to rough them up too badly... I want them aware for the purging... if they are incoherent then it largely defeats the purpose of it all."

"My lucky day..." the guard behind Lacus said, stepping up and putting his hand on her shoulder in a manner she most definitely did not want anyone other than Kira doing. Lacus started to steel herself... she had thought this sort of barbarity was gone from the world but as usual the world had decided to drop a decidedly ugly surprise right in her lap just when she really didn't need more trouble. It was just as the guard started to slide his hand down from her shoulder that the door was kicked almost right off it's hinges. Lacus's heart jumped into her throat... certainly this was rescue. Her heart dropped back down almost instantly... she did not recognize the short red haired boy who stood framed in the entranceway... he didn't look much older than her, if that. Worse, he was dressed in the uniform of an Earth Alliance pilot, though all rank insignia had been carefully removed. The young man surveryed the room with an imperious eye. Lacus watched with mingled hope and dread. She had no idea what was going to happen next... she could only pray it wasn't some new and worse torment about to be visited upon them.


	54. the Tarnished Soul

Asmodeus sighed with relief as Alkire, released from wrist and ankle cuffs, was safely deposited in a small and highly secure cell deep within the maximum confinement ward of Levansworth Military Prison in the Atlantic Federation. Levansworth was where most of the criminals from within the ranks of the EA military served their time... often life sentences, since most crimes in the military either resulted in non judicial punishments like loss of pay or rank, or in removal from the military via dishonorable discharge. It took something special to get sent to Levansworth... cowardice in the face of the enemy, malicious malingering, lesser treason, gross insubordination, manslaughter, gross incompetence and a few other things. The military prison was one of the most secure on the planet... no inmate had escaped alive in over forty years. And escaping dead could hardly be called escaping.

There was an entire regiment of guards with highly advanced security systems and defenses all around the complex... ditches, electric fences, barbed wire, mines, laser tripwire alarms, cameras, motion sensors... the works. The cells themselves were built from reinforced concrete designed to resist explosions, the doors to the cells were hardened steel bars more than an inch thick that withdrew into floor and ceiling when the inmate needed to be removed from the cell for exercise or meals... there were no locks to pick or jam. The prisoners were watched night and day by both cameras and roving teams of guards and emergency reaction forces... including a unit of mobile suits... were at constant standby in the surrounding area. No jail was perfect... but Levansworth was as good as they came. Alkire glared out at Asmodeus, not even bothering to inspect his cellmate, who had not bothered to get up from his bunk on the left wall.

"I suppose you think I'm intimidated by this place?" Alkire asked, folding his arms casually across his chest. Asmodeus looked at him and then glanced around speculatively.

"You are most definitely good, Major. Ex-major... whatever. Mr. Jones. In any case, I know how good you are. I know how good Vladimir is. I know how good all of you are. If I'm satisfied with the security, don't you think you might be acting a bit overconfident? I do not have a history of making underestimations of people."

"A lot of people have said that to me... most of them ruined their perfect records shortly afterwards too." Alkire retorted. It wasn't all bravado... he'd been in a lot of tough spots in his career and he was still right here... but there was a good portion of bluster to his words as well. He'd been looking around just as much as Asmodeus... this place was a fortress... a labyrinth designed specifically to keep people like him secured. He didn't doubt that he could eventually escape... no jail was perfect... but right now he couldn't see any way that would have him out in less than a few years... he'd have to get to know the place before he could make a go of it. And he didn't have years... he might not even have days or hours, from what brief shouted and whispered conversations he'd had with Victor as they were transported from the plane to the jail. Victor had been groggy from his tranquilizer, but had managed to convey to Alkire the distressing news of the kids being loaded onto an entirely seperate plane... destination unknown.

"Even the Lieutenant couldn't break out of this place quickly." Asmodeus replied with a sad shake of his head. "And as good as you are, you aren't the Lieutenant. After I get back from my little side trip, I'm sure we'll have a good long time to talk together, Mr. Jones. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long distance flight to catch."

"Where are my girls, Asmodeus?" Alkire demanded, stopping just short of clenching the bars when he detected a faint electric crackling emnating from them. "Where did your boss take the kids?"

Asomdeus looked back over his shoulder at the commando. "To a place as close to hell as any living being is likely to experience. You won't be seeing them again. It hurts, I know... but those are the cold hard facts, Mr. Jones. You mess with Blue Cosmos... Blue Cosmos messes with you back... harder. Much harder, as I'm sure you're realizing now. Goodbye, Mr. Jones. We'll be meeting again in the near future. Until then..." Asmodeus waved formally and then hurried away... he did indeed have a plane to catch, a date to keep, a vengeance to exact. He did not want to be late.

"My name's Jean Dylan. Self confessed coward, traitor and mutineer. Currently awaiting execution by firing squad, date yet to be determined. I've logged nearly a year in this pressure cooker. Now shut the hell up and leave me the hell alone." Alkire's cell mate intoned almost as soon as Asmodeus was out of sight. The average looking man did not turn and look at Alkire, did not even open his eyes or roll away from the wall he was facing. Alkire sighed and sat down on his bunk, currently made with fussy military precision.

"Alkire Majesty. Captured freedom fighter, branded patriot and general thorn in the side of Blue Cosmos. Currently in for the long haul, since the bastards think they can convert me to their side. Date on that is impossible to guess, since I'll be dead first. I've been here approximately... twenty three minutes and twenty four seconds. And counting. Pleased to meet you." Alkire told the man, who did not respond. "As a cell mate you'll find me motivated, depressingly cheerful and generally a right annoying son of a bitch. I doubt it'll be more than a fortnight before you slit my throat with a shiv while I sleep. Fortunately for me, I don't plan on being here for more than ten hours. At the most. After then I'll be on a jet out of here, destination unknown."

"Cocky bastard." Jean muttered. "This must be my punishment... sharing a cell with a crazy man."

"You have no idea. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get cracking if I'm going to get out of here on schedule." Alkire replied, dropping to the hard concrete floor and getting in position. Jean looked over at him curiously and sighed in disgust when Alkire started doing push ups. It looked like he was saddled with one of those uber jock grunts. His life sucked. Jean tried to go back to sleep... it was difficult listening to the grunts of exertion from Alkire. But Jean was used to discomfort... he drifted off within the hour.

------------------------------------

Vladimir sighed... he was disappointed with Levansworth. Sure there were lots of flashy gadgets and well dressed troops and cameras and all the whizz bangs the Atlantic Federation could come up with... but security really wasn't as tight as all that. He'd been in tougher places to get out of... heck, he'd broken out of those places back in his early teens and moved on to escaping from the real shitholes in his twenties. The places where maximum security lockdown consisted of beating you unconscious until you pissed more blood than urine, then chaining you down until you got better, and repeating the process ad nauseum... it was very difficult to escape when you could barely breathe for the pain. Compared to that hellhole, the electrified bars and cameras and polite but firm patrols... well, it was just on a whole different scale. A lesser scale. Vladimir paced around the cell one more time to consolidate his thoughts. Victor was no doubt working on his own escape plan... the german wasn't much for escaping restraints but put him in a cell and he'd have a bomb made before the end of the day. Raine would be waiting for rescue... her specialty was long range combat and hand to hand... two skills she would be unable to put to good use in a cell. James would be similarly waiting... his great strength was of little use vs steel bars, electric current and armed guards. Alkire would be waiting... furiously thinking of a wider escape plan than just bust everyone out of their cells.

By the time Vladimir found him and released everyone, Alkire would have thought of some way to get them all out of prison and into a jet and following Asmodeus. Vlad hoped that was the case anyway... he didn't have any idea of what to do besides break out of the cell. He passed his cellmate's bunk... the man lay unmoving on the covers. His cell mate had been an enthusiastic little private... full of contrition for his cowardice in the face of the enemy and eager to please his captors and impress upon them his willingness to return to service whenever they thought best. Vlad had immediately pegged him as a tattletale... the low sort of son of a bitch who'd call the guards when Vlad tried to escape. It was a good thing in a way... a brown noser would have a lot more material stashed away from guard gifts than an average prisoner. Vlad had put the smaller man in a sleeper hold about five minutes after he'd been left in the cell by the guards... the private wouldn't be waking up until TEMPEST was long gone.

As Vlad had expected, the private's stash had been most useful. Porno magazines, CD player and disks, batteries, a small framed photograph with glass cover, nail clippers, a carton of cigarettes and a lighter summed up the hoard. Vlad shook his head slightly... the guy had so much stuff it was almost pathetic... any reasonably competent soldier with half a brain could have made a decent go of an escape attempt with half the crap this guy had. Of course... that was probably why he had it... all the guys who would make a go for it never got the opportunity to get this stuff since the guards were wary of them. This nothing private was no threat to anyone, least of all the security of the jail. Someone must have made a blunder when they assigned Vladimir to his cell... probably beacuase they got hooked on his "prosthetic arms"... after all, what could a double arm amputee do to escape?

Well, one hell of a lot when your prosthetics happen to be robotic arms grafted to your nerves. It was a mistake that would certainly not be repeated twice... he'd have to make sure he never got thrown in here again. Not a hard promise to fufill... if things went as he wished he'd never set foot in the AF again. And he didn't think he'd be lucky enough to be captured alive twice. Vlad completed his rumination circuit and bent down close to the bars where they met the wall of his cell. There was perhaps a half inch gap between the electrified bar and the concrete wall. Carefully hiding his movements from the cameras in the hall, he flicked the lighter over the ball of crumpled up centerfolds and lit them on fire. The blaze was small and mostly just gave off acrid fumes and smoke... but that was all he needed. He tossed on more pages and let the smoke cloud grow. Within seconds it was large enough to meet his needs.

The smoke reached the fire detectors that were standard in all AF buildings... even jails. Alarms sounded and lights started to flash. Automatic sprinkling systems came on with a cycling sound... Levansworth was an old complex, several centuries in age... it's fire system was still water based rather than gaseous or powder based like more modern systems. To preserve the safety of the inmates the electric charges running through the bars disengaged... a touching if somewhat stupid mechanism, in Vlad's opinion. He got to work fast... he may not have been an explosives expert like Victor, but he could make an improvised bomb just as well as the next terrorist... he'd made a number of similar devices over the years during his rampages in the PLANTS. He opened the lighter and soaked the batteries from the CD player in the fluid, leaving a little in the lighter for later.

He connected the batteries together in series using wires ripped from the CD player, connecting them so that their current would flow in opposition to that of the electric current that normally flowed through the bars. He stripped the wires bare with his fingers, glad that the metal prosthetics were finally useful for something other than killing. He then used spare wire to tie the batteries to one of the bars, about eighteen inches apart. He guestimated the time and flicked the lighter on just as the guards in control got the fire system turned off. He lit the butane soaked batteries, ignited a pair of cigarettes off the flames and waited... the guards did not disappoint, flipping the electric bar system back on with alactrity to preserve security. The flaming batteries exploded when the jolt of current ran through them, spraying their acidic contents onto the bar, eating away just a fraction more at the already blast damaged metal. Alarms started whooping again, but with a different timbre this time... escape alerts. Vlad had seconds to act. Steeling himself he wrapped both metal hands around the damaged portion of the bar, careful to transfer his cigarettes to his mouth beforehand... and he pulled, squeezed and twisted with all the power available to him.

A normal man would have been powerless, not to mention struck unconscious by the voltage that still sent waves of agony rolling directly into his chest... but Vlad's mechanical hands were many times stronger than flesh and blood... the blast and acid weakened cracks in the steel bar gave way with tortured shriek and he ripped it free of the rest of the bar. Without waiting he tossed the eighteen inch piece of metal so that it struck lengthwise across the remaining bars... shorting eight of them together all at once. Vlad didn't have a degree in electrical engineering, but he did know that granting several hundred thousand volts a path across more voltage with no resistance to speak of... well it did what he'd hoped, to say the least.

The power supply giving current to the bars for the entire cell block suddenly had a load thousands of times greater than design expectations... the system shorted out and breakers tripped to avoid damaging the system, but the entire electrical system went down in that cell block in the interem... all the bars dropped back into the floor or dangled loosely from the ceiling. In the four seconds it took to restore power, Vlad was up and out of the cell and running. The halls were empty for the moment... everyone else was being a good prisoner and staying put, or gaping around in shock... most of these people felt they deserved to be here, obviously. Vlad dismissed them with a sneer. A pair of guards came rushing around a corner, batons in hand, radios squawking... Vlad did not have time to play nice. He palmed the glass photo cover he'd broken out of the picture frame and threw it sidearm... the unsharpened glass corner was still more than pointy enough to puncture flesh... sinking halfway into one guard's jugular.

The CD disk Vlad threw at the other guard did not possess an edge... but when struck in the eye it matters little... the guard yelped and automatically brought his hands up to protect his face. By the time he brought his hands down Vlad had snapped his neck like a twig. Vlad paused only to take a radio and a baton. He rushed to the security checkpoint that acted as a gateway between each cell block and the connecting halls... there were five guards there. He did not pause... this was all or nothing, no holds barred...the lives of the girls were at stake. The guards started to bring up their guns... he threw the baton... not at them, but at the security switch that opened the door to the hall. The door zoomed open and Vlad dived forwards, rolling under the first few shots, taking two more on his metal shoulders and a graze along the back as he did so.

Now at the feet of the guards he grabbed an ankle and crushed it, rising to jam a lit cigarette into the nose of another guard, twisting aside to bat aside a pistol barrel and rip the arm that held it from its socket, ducking under a panicked shot that left him bleeding from the scalp rather than the skull and finally throwing the other cigarette into the hair of one of the downed guards, setting it alight on the hair gel... the remaining two unwounded guards paused a brief moment to look in horror at their burning friend... a moment too long. Vlad had one's heart in his grasp and had stove in the face of the other before they could gasp. Not a bad fight... five against one, unarmed. He looted a few pistols and some ammunition and took a security diagram from the pocket of the senior guard. After that it was easy.

As predicted the others were waiting for him... it was a simple, if bloody, matter to overpower the guards at each cell block's control station and open all the cell doors in each cell block he passed... within fifteen minutes half the prisoners in Levansworth had freedom to come and go from their cells as they pleased. Few did, but some made breaks of their own. By minute twenty four he had joined forces with James, Victor and Raine and they were all armed and ready to go. At minute thirty four they found Alkire, who was so antsy he was practically shivering. He, of course, had a plan. At minute fifty six, the laundry room was merrily ablaze, all the security systems were shut down, and the fire system was going full flow... in every space but the ones that were on fire. One hour and thirteen minutes after the first fire alarm went off... roughly two hours after they first arrived and were placed in custody, TEMPEST had officially left the building... as had nearly forty other prisoners, including Jean Dylan. The mobile response squads scrambled and managed to recapture most of them... though TEMPEST managed to escape in a military transport, leaving two mobile suits sceduled for maintainence in smoking ruins in the process... and the traitor Jean Dylan, convicted for selling out his own unit to the Coordinators during the last war, disappeared without a trace... much to the disgruntlement and outrage of those people who knew of his incarceration. All in all... not a proud day for the Atlantic Federation military police.

--------------------------------

"That's not something you should be doing." Ashino commented mildly, taking in the scene of the guard with his hand half down the dress of the girl with the pink hair... Lacus Clyne he suspected, since few had hair of such a distinctive color. The five security guards were staring at him with undisguised shock, frozen in the midst of acts of lechery... or the beginning of them anyway. He was just in time it seemed. These girls may have been the friends of his enemies... one of them was a Coordinator, an enemy of his entire race. But they did not deserve to be brutalized in such a manner, then subjugated to the sort of interrogations Ashino was only too sure were in store for them. The people in charge of interrogating prisoners were also the discipline masters for the younger BCPU's... Ashino had run afoul of them before, back during his sarcastic days... he'd lost a lot of his starch and sass in rooms much like these, before the second operation. T

hough his interrogators had never authorized his guards to molest him... there were guards who leaned that way... but a BCPU was too valuable a item to let the guards treat as they willed. Not that he would have been damaged, but even BCPU's, with all their training and conditioning... well, they were still basically human. Piss them off enough and they'd flip out. Even Ashino. And when a late stage, fully trained BCPU flipped out, people died. Sometimes many people. Ergo Frost. And Cray. And Amy, back when she was alive. And potentially Ashino too... if and when he ever endured whatever stimulus it was that would set him off. He brought himself back into focus... the guards were still gaping and the woman in the red business suit was still standing up from the armchair, spider on a stick dangling forgotten at her side. "Good day, Dr. Prayce." Ashino nodded in recognition. He remembered her... the woman who affected nervousness in order to justify her own cruelty.

"Markov Ashino! What are you doing here? This is a secured area, BCPU's are not allowed here. You know that." Angela snapped, flicking the spider away from her leg before it could bite. "You are in very deep trouble, young man. There will be punishment for this infraction. Leave here at once and return to your cell. DO IT NOW!" Angela commanded decisively. It was important to adopt the proper tone of voice and posture when addressing a BCPU. They were conditioned by their handlers to have a subconscious fear of their human masters... all it took was a few harsh words and and angry gesture and they'd cower like a whipped dog. Unfortunately for Angela, her security clearance was only mid level... she dealt only with the BCPU 2's and 3's. She had no experience with the more advanced models and their relatively strong personalities and psychoses. Ashino's conditioning was strong... the lessons and punishments he'd endured quite fresh in his memory. Maybe if he hadn't been a little frustrated, annoyed and even a smidgeon indignant at the treatment of the female prisoners, he'd have been more susceptible. He was a reasonable person after all... he had nothing personal against Dr. Prayce and she was technically a superior and had given a lawful order. But he was all those things and he was pressed for time to boot. There was no time to be nice.

Ashino stared back at her with slightly narrowed eyes. He didn't even flinch away from her words or her gesture. "I don't think so." he retorted. Angela's eyes widened in shock... she'd never been talked back to by a BCPU... an object... a computer terminal with legs and a stomach for all intents and purposes. She was flustered, she did not like unexpected things, did not like not being in control. It made her nervous. There was only one acceptable response. She got mad. Dropping the spider and the stick, she whirled back to her briefcase, withdrawing a heavy aeresol can full of concentrated pepper spray. This'd teach the braggart, she thought smugly. BCPU's were tough... strong, fast, durable, thick skinned and almost immune to pain. But they had weak spots... the eyes... the nose... armpits... groin... small of the back. And they were trained from inception into the program not to hurt humans. Ashino was incapable of laying a hand on her without a direct order from a superior officer. And there were none about but her.

She glanced at the guards and frowned when she saw they were still frozen in shock, as were all five young ladies, who were looking more than a bit confused. "What the hell do you idiots think you are doing? You're the one's who wanted to grab some ass... get to it or get on with the softening up. Don't mind that thing in the doorway... I'll get rid of it soon enough." Angela snapped at the guards. They blinked and slowly started to get back to what they were doing, much to the distress of the girls, who started to shriek and writhe in a way that further frayed Angela's nerves. The guards tried not to make it too obvious, but they continued to watch Ashino. The guards at JIHAD had a grapevine that was suprisingly accurate... they'd heard about the three high grade BCPU's... about the guards and scientists that went into the lower levels of the base... and came out in body bags, if not minced up or broken like dolls. Ashino was supposed to be a pretty okay guy... he did favors for people, kept his mouth shut. But you never could tell with a non-human... it was like having a wild beast in the room with you... sure it may have been more scared of you than vice versa, but that didn't mean it couldn't maul you anyway.

Ashino switched his gaze back to the guards. "I told you to stop doing that." he repeated, his voice dropping several degrees. "If you don't take your hands off them this moment, I'll remove your hands for you." Ashino was actually surprised at how angry he was getting... unfamiliar instincts were rising within him at the sight of five pretty girls being mistreated. He'd never really noticed girls much before. Oh sure, he'd gone through puberty and he knew about sex as much as anyone... being surrounded by biologists and doctors made getting access to instructional videos and texts quite easy. But he'd never been attracted to one. Never been anywhere close to in love. He wasn't sure he could love... it wasn't an emotion the Doc had much use for and so the BCPU's did not have much use for it either. The closest thing Ashino had was a great warm feeling of respect for the Doc... and a similar feeling for the deceased Shani Andras, his former best friend. In any case, despite being around girls, some quite physically attractive... BCPU's tended to be easy on the eyes... he'd never felt like this. He wanted to stop the guards from molesting these girls... even though they were strangers. It wasn't right for the guards to do that. He wanted to stop them. It would make him feel good, he felt sure. He didn't feel good all that often.

"And I told you to leave this secure area and return to your cell. You ignored me as well. Ignorance has a price, foolish Ashino. I'd thought you'd learned that before. Now I can see additional lessons are required. Starting with this." Angela carefully stalked over to him and sprayed his face thoroughly down with the pepper spray... enough to convince a bear to back down and go away. A human should have been doubled up on the ground wailing in agony as the chemicals seared his eyes and sinuses. Ashino merely blinked a few times and sneezed once... he didn't even tear up. BCPU 4's had fewer weak spots that BCPU 3's... something as simple as pepper spray didn't bother his enhanced physiology much at all. It required chemical warfare agents to really hurt him. He looked up at Angela, irritation plain on his face.

Without further consideration his arm snaked out and grabbed her by the wrist. With a twin cracking noise his grip crushed her wrist bones as he twisted her arm down and away from her body. She dropped the can as he face went white. She started to scream in pain but he thrust a knee into her lower abdomen and knocked all the breath out of her before she could do more than drawn in her chest. She made a strangled gasp and sank to her knees. Unwilling to prolong the distasteful activity... he may not have been prevented from hitting her, but he didn't like it... Ashino chopped her on the back of the neck, rendering her unconscious almost instantly. The guards had looked up from the moment her wrist had cracked. Their expressions were mingled fear and anger.

"Damn you, you little bastard. How dare you lay hands on a woman like that? You're just a BCPU... how could you hurt a human?" the senior guard snarled, taking his hands off Miriallia's chest and starting to bring his sub machine gun around. The other guards did likewise... reluctantly in the case of the guards of Cagalli and Lacus, those two guards had been enjoying themselves quite a bit, having been the ones to come up with the idea in the first place.

"Don't even think about it." Ashino warned the guards. "I'm not Frost. But I won't hesitate to fight back if you try to hurt me. Or continue to molest those five girls."

"What... does the computer terminal want some of the action?" one of the younger guards snickered. "Why don't you just go download some videos? Jack yourself into the base system and jack off somewhere else... the selection ain't half bad here. But you ain't welcome here, module man. These here are girls. G... I... R... L... S. Human girls. For human consmption only, not bio-freaks. Go get yourslf an electron date or whatever it is you things do." the rest of the guards chuckled with enjoyment at the cutting insults. Or at least they thought they were cutting. They might have provoked Cray into a height of rage. But Ashino just let them pass... the guards did not understand what he was... a human sacrificed to technology in order to preserve the human race. He wasn't less than human or more than human... he was outside humanity.

"My reasons are my own. I request again, remove your hands from the girls, step away and preferrably, leave this room." Ashino replied, voice level. He walked forward a few paces until he was standing only a few feet from the guards. He kept his posture non threatening... if the guards opened up with their guns there was no telling who they might shoot by accident.

"And if we don't?" the senior guard asked, hand on the grip of his gun, finger beginning to curl around the trigger. Ashino didn't bother replying... it was self evident. He crossed the distance between him and the guard before the man could fully bring the gun to bear. Being short, at only 157 cm (5' 2"), Ashino was able to get well inside the reach of the bigger man. He blocked the gun as it started to turn towards him and grabbed the guard by his ballistic vest so the man could not back away. With a quick twist and pull the gun was in Ashino's hands and the guard was groaning over the compound fracture newly acquired in his forearm. With exclamations of surprise and anger the other four guards jerked out their weapons and brought them in line with Ashino and the guard. "Don't shoot, you morons!" the senior guard yelled. "I'm in the line of..." the other four guards started blasting away.

Ashino grimaced as the girls screamed as a gun battle broke out just behind them and only a few inches above their head level... they were powerless to escape too, being chained to their chairs. Ashino rotated the guard so he was fully between the guns and Ashino... the bigger man made an effective if messy shield... the ballistic vest was not designed to resist concentrated fire from multiple automatic weapons at close range. A slurry of shots blew the senior guards brain out through his face and the corpse started to drop. Ashino drew the corpse's knife as it slid towards the ground and then kicked the inert mass of flesh directly at the guards.

Ashino wasn't nearly as strong as Cray or Frost... but he was far stronger than any normal human his size and the corpse only weighed about two hundred pounds... Ashino's kick propelled it like a game ball across the six or so feet to his assailants, knocking one of them down but more importantly providing valuable moving cover for Ashino to use to get closer. He dived left and rolled, drawing fire away from the girls. As bullets chewed down all around him and ricocheted from the stone walls of the interrogation room, Ashino calmly lined up his shots. It was much safer for him to be shooting in the direction of the girls, even though the guards were standing right next to and amongst them... Ashino was trained to shoot better than just point and spray. He fired two controlled bursts, three rounds each. Two guards dropped, heads and necks full of holes.

Gore splattered all over the place. Ashino ignored a casual graze along his cheek and another along his side... the guards were so panicked that the hits were nothing but luck. With a practiced flip of his hand he palmed the knife and threw it underhand with a slight spin. The flash of the blade in the dim light distracted the guards for a bare instant... natural reflex causing them to glance at the source of brightness and duck away from the softly thrown blade. One went low, that one had barely regained his feet from being knocked down by the corpse, the other went back, both still keeping triggers firmly depressed and not giving a damn about where they were aiming. Ashino estimated they'd be out of bullets in another second and a half... far too long a time... they were sure to hit one of the girls by mistake unless he brought them both down before the next second was over. His enhanced glands pumped raw adrenaline into his system and time seemed to stretch out. His mind felt on fire with all the signals it was processing... it was just like a rousing training session.

Ashino took aim again... this time the single shot struck the knife in mid rotation, impacting directly on the middle of the handle butt, imparting almost all of its forward kinetic force. The knife shot forward and buried itself point first in the jugular of the guard who'd been backing up. Ashino blinked... he'd only been trying for the shoulder... he'd done better than expected. A wash of crimson jetted out... all over the girls, who were still shrieking from the beginning of the fight. Ashino had rolled to the side and was lying on his back before the first drop of vital fluid left the veins of the guards neck. The last guard looked down at him from a crouched position about five feet away, back to Lacus's chair. Ashino did not pause, he fired two quick shots, taking out the left knee and ankle of the guard, causing him to drop to the left. He switched to burst fire again and drilled three rounds through the smae half inch wide target point between the eyes of the guard as he fell. Brains exploded everywhere and bits of skull clattered on the floor.

The guard with the knife in his throat finally hit the ground, gun firing its last few rounds ineffectually into the far wall. From first shot fired to last droplet of blood splashing onto Lacus's forehead... the fight had lasted six and three quarters seconds. More than ninety bullets had been fired... mostly by the guards. Ashino had been grazed twice by bouncing bullets but was otherwise unharmed and his uniform unsoiled... he'd avoided all the flying gore as well as the inaccurate fire. All the guards were dead. No girl had taken a single wound, though they were covered in the blood of their guards... and bits of internal organs too, though he had tried not to get them too dirty. Ashino was forced to admit that it was a reasonably successful operation... a 3.2 out of 4, maybe. Not his best. He felt himself start to hyperventilate as he came down off the adrenaline rush. He forced himself to take slow deep breaths to calm himself. He casually dropped the gun and paced over to the door, shutting it firmly. Now what was he going to do?

Cagalli couldn't stifle the scream that erupted from her as the gunfire erupted from what sounded and even felt like was no more than inches from the back of her head. She was almost sure she could feel her hair being parted by the lead flying through the air. She tried to duck her head forward but it was hard to move coherently with both arms and legs chained and immobile. It didn't help that she was totally out of whack... still woozy from the hit on the head, scared pissless at the prospect of torture, pissed as hell about the guard pawing his hands all over her, afraid for her friends and especially Athrun, who was likely trapped somewhere else in this nightmare place, probably being tortured as well... she was sure Athrun ZALA would not be popular around here... even less than other Coordinators. And completely flat footed about this short red headed guy in an unremarkable Earth Alliance uniform who had just walked through the door out of nowhere and demanded the guards stop molesting them.

The guards had been less than willing to listen and Miss Angela... the psycho torturer bitch... was positively inflamed by the short guy's appearance and apparent arrogance. She'd tried to hose him down with pepper spray... a nasty self defense weapon if there ever was one... when he refused to be browbeaten by harsh words. Admittedly it had rather less effect than Cagalli had feared... she'd caught a wiff of the police stuff before and it had made her weep for an hour... that much concentrated spray could do permanent harm, even cause blindness or death. But the short and rather plain looking red head just shrugged it off like morning mist. And then broke Angela's wrist like a twig, kneed her in the gut hard enough to burst a kidney or so it looked and mercilessly rendered her unconscious with a neck chop. All so fast the dropped can of spray hit the floor roughly the same time Angela did. His speed was incredible... not the fastest she'd seen... Athrun could move like that when he needed to, and so could Kira. But faster than any normal human... any natural... had any business moving. Not as fast as Frost moved. But in that same ballpark.

Cagalli hadn't been able to make much of the taunting the guards gave the short red head... she hadn't caught his name, but the insults she heard made her blood boil... largely because she was being talked about like a posession but also for the disregard for the feelings of the red head. The soldiers were treating him like an object... like less than human. Less even than a Coordinator. But the red head hadn't even frowned... he'd just repeated his order for the guards to leave the girls alone... a request Cagalli agreed with wholeheartedly... she'd had more than enough of being groped... the soldier was so pathetically eager to touch her he was getting in his own way... he couldn't figure out where to go first and so hadn't gone nearly as far as he'd wanted to. Which was perfectly acceptable to her... she frankly didn't want anyone's hands on her but Athrun's right now.

The guards had started acting tough... even Cagalli could see they were intimidated as hell by the red head. The big soldier had tried to pull his gun and the red head had broken his arm for it... incidentally ending up with the gun. The other guards had ceased their harassment and opened fire... right next to her. A guard stood directly to her right, using her as cover for his lower half as he blazed away just above her head. Another guard was behind her and similarly blazing away... a frightful waste of ammunition and almost impossible to aim, an analytical part of her mind not connected to the fright centers told her reasonably. Kisaka would be shaking his head at her if she ever shot so terribly. Lacus and Mir and Chanel and Katie were all screaming just like Cagalli was... though Chanel and Katie were also looking around and watching their red headed rescuer like Cagalli was. Or trying to anyway.

Red head had pulled the big guard into the path of fire and was using him like a shield... the other guards mowed down their protesting friend like a rabid dog, blowing his head off and riddling his back with bullet holes. Then the corpse came flying at her... one limp arm slapping against her bare leg, the guard to her right falling over, tripped by a dead leg. Red head followed the corpse closely, his own gun firing in short controlled bursts that left a red rain sprinkling through the air as two guards fell back, neatly clustered holes in their faces and necks. Red head moved out of sight behind her... from how the guards turned the red head was firing in Cagalli's direction now while the guards were shooting away from her. She tried to turn her head to look but wasn't fast enough... she didn't like the idea of a stranger shooting in her general direction, even if he did seem to be a good shot. But such thoughts were interrupted by the flash of the knife slowly twirling through the air. Cagalli fancied she could see her reflection in the silvery blade for an instant.

A guard blundered past her, sub gun yammering away, hot ejected brass slipping down the front of her dress after spinning from the firing breech. She opened her mouth to cry out in shock and caught a huge mouthful of arterial blood as the knife was shot out of the air and into the guard's neck. Gasping and choking on the vile coppery stuff, Cagalli still managed to catch a glimpse of the last guard falling to her left, leg blown to shreds... she turned just in time to feel a deformed bullet whisper past her cheek on the way out through the back of his head, followed shortly thereafter by yet more gore and even, grossest of grossities, fragments of brain which slopped wetly onto her forehead and neck. She found herself speechless... mouth still partially filled with arterial spray, face covered in the cranial gore of a fellow human, hot brass too warm against the skin of her stomach, gunfire echoes blocking out all sound... it was a bit much, coupled with the strain of captivity, the disgusting memory of hands on her chest and the general confusion of the last few weeks. She didn't exactly faint but she did grey out for a few seconds. When she came back to herself the red head had discarded his weapon and had shut the door to the interrogation room he'd kicked open less than two minutes before.

"I apologize for that." the red head said, still facing the door. "I didn't want to kill anyone. But they forced my hand."

"Umm... I forgive you?" Katie said cautiously, trying to wriggle her way into a more comfortable position in the hard metal chair she was cuffed to. She was also trying to cross her legs to cover herself, with a notable lack of success. Now that the bullets had stopped flying Chanel was similarly engaged... also unsucessfully due to how she was secured to the chair. Neither girl was bothered by public nudity... clothes or no clothes were good with them, but despite that they didn't like being naked in this place, this unwholesome place. It made them feel very vulnerable... brought back bad memories of a time before Alkire and Raine and TEMPEST and Ysak... something they hadn't felt in several years and they did not like one little bit.

"I wasn't speaking to you." the red head replied, turning around and moving back towards them. Cagalli found herself grinning slightly... the guy was just so short. Cagalli wasn't by any means tall... only five foot five. She was taller than both Lacus and Miriallia by about an inch and was shorter than Chanel and Katie by about two inches. But the red head was a good two inches shorter than Lacus. He looked like an overgrown child... well, until you took into account his very well developed musculature and hard eyes. This guy was built... Athrun had lots of muscles... nice muscles, with pecs and a good six pack... but this guy looked like he lifted big weights for fun. His arms bulged his sleeves and his legs did likewise for his pants, while his chest shoved out a good inch past his chin. The muscles were not out of proportion to his size... but they were definitely visible. And his eyes... a jungle green, like a rainforest, framed by his pale skin and cherry red hair which was styled short and slightly curly... he wasn't actually all that bad looking. Cagalli shook her head. She had a fiancee... was happily married in all but name. She shouldn't be appraising other guys. But it was hard not to... this guy had just saved her from a fate she didn't want to think about... it would be unnatural not to feel grateful. And he had made it look pretty easy too.

"Then who were you speaking to?" Chanel asked as the red head stopped about three feet away, leaning casually on the steel table which still held Angela's briefcase.

"The walls here have ears. Someone is always listening. And watching too, for that matter. I was specifically speaking to the Doc, who is no doubt observing us remotely right now." the red head replied almost nonchalantly. He gazed at them, letting his eyes wander across them, apparaising them like fine paintings or statues in a museum. Cagalli watched him carefully, eyeing him back as he eyed her... he just seemed to be looking at her, not lewdly, his eyes spending as much time or more on her face as the rest of her. He was similarly detached when looking at Chanel and Katie... so much so that they might have actually found it insulting in less stressful times. He did not stare at them, but neither did he look away from them. It was like he did not even recognize they were naked.

"Oh, great... so some sicko was just watching all that go on merrily. These Blue Cosmos guys are so screwed up." Miriallia muttered angrily. The red head glared at her, his face turning markedly less friendly.

"He's not some sicko... he's the Doc. You don't know him but I'll thank you to keep such an opinion to yourself... the Doc allowed me to come here and therefore indirectly is responsible for me saving you. Gratitude isn't something I'm familiar with, but I'm reasonably certain something of the sort is common in these situations." the red head told them frankly. He paused a moment as if considering. "Of course, the Doc is also the one who ordered you to be interrogated in the first place, he assigned Miss Angela personally, I'd imagine. So he is also to blame and that usually provokes anger and hatred from you humans."

"You say you humans as if you aren't one." Lacus noted, flicking her head to keep some red fluid from oozing into her eye. She hadn't got as coated as Cagalli had but she was currently covered pretty well with fluids that belonged in a living being, not on her. She tried not to think about it... she wasn't a vegetarian or anything but the sight of all the red meat lying around was making her sick. The red headed boy... he wasn't much older than her, if even as old... turned to look at her. His expression did not change even a little as he shrugged. Lacus found it disconcerting... usually she could get some feel for a person just by looking at them... she'd known Kira was a gentle and trustworthy person from the moment she'd laid eyes on him... the same for Captain Ramius. She'd been able to glean that Alkire was trustworthy too... a good man, if misguided in her opinion.

She could also tell bad people when she saw them... people like Cervantes Zunnichi, mad for power and filled with hatred. She'd gotten mixed feelings from Sai... anger, love, confusion, growing impatience... but he was also basically a good person... just mixed up right now. It wasn't quite a sixth sense... she couldn't direct it around and often did not even realize she was getting an impression of someone... but it was usually very accurate. But she wasn't getting anything at all from the red head... it was like he really wasn't a person, impossible as that was. Lacus noted that Chanel and Katie also looked a bit discomfited, as if they too were missing some nonverbal cue about the boy that was ordinarily there, only noticable in its absence. Cagalli and Miriallia were the same as usual... Cagalli feeling obviously aggressive, masking her fear well, Miriallia doing less well at masking but still staying in the game.

"Lacus Clyne, you are not a human either. You are a Coordinator. Don't you feel different? Detached from human concerns?" the red head asked. Lacus was so shocked she couldn't figure out what to do for a moment. Then she started laughing... she didn't mean to but it was just so funny. The guy sounded like he expected her to admit to not feeling human emotions or something. Like he expected her to be some sort of alien in human form with no connection to her friends besides physical appearance. The red head tightened his lips slightly but did not get angry at her for laughing at him... she felt more than a little guilty... she'd heard the horrible things the soldiers had called him. He must be very used to being verbally abused like that, because he hadn't shown any reaction at all... though Lacus was sure he'd been hurt deeply... she would have been in his place. No one liked being treated like property or an inanimate object.

"I'm sorry for laughing. But that is just not true. Just because I am a Coordinator does not mean I am not also human. The only thing that makes me different from Miriallia or Cagalli or Chanel or Katie is that my parents had my genes tinkered with while I was in the womb and my mother followed a stricter diet than normal during her pregnancy. Other than that we're all still flesh and blood, memories and mind, soul and personality... just like everyone." Lacus told him. She paused a moment. "By the way, could I ask you your name? I'd like to thank you for attempting to restrain the guards from their... advances."

Ashino studied the pink haired Coordinator girl. She was beautiful, he supposed. Certainly more physically attractive than the BCPU girls. Even covered with foriegn gore, chained to a chair and clad in a abused evening gown, he felt attracted to her... almost a subconscious effect. It wasn't sexual in nature... his body was not responding... but his emotions were. He liked her. He didn't know why, but he did. She was trustworthy and kind and gentle... he knew it without knowing why. "It was nothing. Men should not behave in such a manner towards girls. It is not nice. And my name is Markov Ashino. Everyone calls me Ashino."

"Pleased to meet you Ashino." Lacus said politely. She almost started laughing again... the situation was so fantasticly ludicrous she could barely make sense of anything at all. Here she was, a famous Coordinator, captured by Blue Cosmos, slated for torture, chained to a chair, half dead from exhaustion with no idea where her friends were or if they were safe, covered in blood and bits of organ stuff...and she was exchanging polite greetings with someone who was in all likelyhood an enemy. The strange nature of the world sometimes defied her mind's capabilities to reason it out. "My name is Lacus Clyne. Do you also know my friends?"

"I know Cagalli Yula Attha." Ashino nodded at the blond with the lioness brown eyes. He looked at the other three girls and quirked an eyebrow.

"Miriallia Haw." Mir said in a near whisper.

"Chanel Belaruse, pleased..." Chanel started.

"Katie Belaruse... to meet ya." Katie finished. Ashino flicked his eyes back and forth between them as they spoke, he was amused by how they spoke in sequence. He supposed that some people would have trouble telling them apart... they were nearly identical in physical appearance. But his enhanced senses picked out small clues... variations in sweat smell and breathing patterns that let him tell them apart with ease.

"Likewise." Ashino replied and lapsed into silence. Now what? He'd come here to beat Frost to the punch and do a little investigating... but now he was here and he had no idea what to ask about. He needed to think of something quick or the Doc would cease to be amused and would have him removed.

"Hey... hey Ashino... I don't suppose you could be bothered to give us some clothes?" Chanel asked hopefully. "I mean... it's nice that you aren't staring... a little odd actually... but I'd feel a whole lot better if I wasn't sitting around open for eye candy business for the next guy who walks in the door." Ashino looked up, brought out of his reverie... he hadn't thought of that. Clothing wasn't important to him... he didn't really get cold or hot and physical discomfort from weather was far beneath his notice. He looked around... the guard's clothing was all pretty ruined... and filthy even before that. Personal hygiene was not common amongst the grunts of Blue Cosmos. He shrugged and removed his uniform shirt and undershirt. The cloth caught for a moment on the graze on his side, briefly reopening the wound before blood coagulant dispensors in his bloodstream kicked in and clotted it back up... a process which took less than two seconds. He noticed the girls shooting each other amazed glances and felt absurdly proud of his augmentation... like it wasn't something every BCPU 4 and above had. He walked over to Chanel and Katie and contemplated them.

"Yeah... we can't get dressed with our legs and hands chained to the chair." Katie pointed out cheerfully. "You can't even dress us for us either... not without tearing the clothes up and making them useless. And frankly that would make the gesture rather pointless, eh?"

"I suppose there is no harm in it... there's little chance you could overpower me in your current condition, five of you or not. And there is nowhere for you to go... Frost is prowling around outside the cell block area." Ashino told them casually. The girls jumped, every one of them, at the mention of Frost's name. They feared the BCPU 6. Ashino did not blame them at all. He studied the handcuffs... the guards had the keys probably but he could sense the Doc's faraway frustration at the lack of interesting topics... he had minutes at best to get them talking before Frost was let in or something equally bad happened. Without further ado he grasped Chanel's ankle cuffs as he bent down to get better leverage. He closed his eyes politely... he was head level with her lower waist. She snorted slightly but said nothing... Ashino almost felt embarassed. He resolved the situation by crushing the cuffs and snapping the chains off with two quick jerks. His hands hurt slightly but it was nothing he couldn't tolerate. He repeated the drill until all the girls were free of their restraints.

"I was going to try and make a break for it... Frost or no Frost... but not after you just snapped a pair of steel cuffs right in front of my eyes... you're pretty damned strong." Cagalli commented. Ashino grunted noncommittally. "Don't brush it off like it was nothing... you're a pretty special guy, you know?" Cagalli admonished him as she wrung circulation back into her hands and legs. "I'm not saying I like you or anything... but you don't need to act tough to impress me... I'm already pretty impressed."

"I'm sorry if you got the impression I was being modest." Ashino replied, circling back around to lean against the table once more. "It is merely that I am used to doing things like that... and seeing my peers do similar things as well. Cray can snap a five inch thick oak block in his hands and Frost has put his hand through a brick wall on several occasions... merely breaking apart some cheap steel handcuffs by utilizing leverage isn't all that big a feat." He paused a few moments, digesting her comments. "What do you mean by special?"

"You are the first nice guy we've met here. That's damned special in and of itself." Miriallia put in. "You haven't tried to hurt us or yell at us or threaten us... even though I'm sure you could if you wanted to."

"Yeah... and you took out the guards who were... well you know what they were doing. And you did it without even breaking stride... or a sweat. I'm not entirely sure who you are..." Katie said.

"... Or what you've been turned into by Blue Cosmos, but so far you've got serious positive points in my book." Chanel finished. She slipped on the white undershirt... it barely reached her waist even as it hung in very loose folds everywhere else... not the best fit by any means but at least it didn't look like she was wearing a short jacket, like Katie did... arms protruding six inches from the sleeves, sleeves so baggy they looked like they belonged on a kimono, body swallowed up inside the jacket which ended two inches above her waist. Katie was busy winding her wrung out evening dress around her hips as a sort of makeshift skirt... Chanel started to do similarly.

"That raises another question... besides the moral reason... that it was wrong... why did you stop the guards from touching us?" Cagalli asked. Ashino did not answer immediately. Instead he reached into his pants rear pocket and withdrew a slim notebook bound in white dyed leather. He jotted a few things down in the notebook before looking over at her.

"I wanted to talk to you. And I didn't think you'd be able to answer well enough to satisfy my curiosity while dealing with the guards attentions." Ashino replied, looking back down at the scrawled note. He had reminded himself to consider the moral reasons for his action today... it would be a good thing to meditate on.

"What did you want to talk about?" Lacus enquired. Ashino turned his gaze to her, his face as blank as it had been the entire time.

"Love." he replied, very seriously. Miriallia stifled a giggle of shock and Chanel and Katie exchanged glances.

"You're in love?" Lacus asked. "That's wonderful. Umm... we're all taken though."

"You misunderstand. I seek to understand love... how the love you hold for the pilots of those mobile suits makes them into the people they are. And how their love back makes you into the people you are. I understand the physical attraction... but there is something more to this love phenomenon that I just do not understand... I don't have the words for it precisely... but mainly the question is... WHY? Why do you act the way you do... why do you love... how... when, where and what does it mean? Can you explain to me?" Ashino answered.

"That's a hell of a topic... why do you want to know?" Cagalli asked.

"So I can understand better the men who have fought with Frost... the men who are my enemies and who I have fought. The men I may kill. And so I can understand you... the driving force behind those men. Or one of them, anyway."

"Uhm... yeah. You see, I'm grateful for you saving us and all... but I'm not telling you a damn thing that will help you kill Dearka." Miriallia told him very firmly. She thought for a moment. "That's one side of the love thing... you don't betray those you care about... not for anything."

"I don't want details about the pilots... I've read the files on them that we have and they have plenty of detailed information on the pilots. I want to know what they're like as people. Why do you love Dearka? Or why does Lacus love Kira... or Cagalli, Athrun? Why? How? Is this love the factor that makes them such undefeatable foes or is it something else intrinsic to them?" Ashino assured them.

"You really don't know what love means?" Chanel asked, voice slightly sad.

"That is terrible... whoever raised you needs to recieve a good beatdown for mistreating you like that." Katie added. "What the hell did your parents do to you when you were a kid? Did they beat you and lock you up or something? I spent a great deal of my younger life in captivity... but I still know what love is. What was done to you... I can't imagine that you have no concept of love."

"I don't remember my parents. I don't have any family that I'm aware of. I suppose you could call the Doc my "father"... though it'd be more accurate to call me his "son". Frost and Cray could be my siblings... as could the rest of the BCPU's here at this base. I was raised from a young age... six or so, I think, by the Doc and the scientists here. I learned how to kill and hurt and fly machines. I was tested to my physical limits and beyond them too. I underwent trials the details of which I cannot remember, more than that they were extremely unpleasant. I endured multiple full open body surgeries... you ask what was done to me... I cannot tell you, because so much has. I survived, I grew, learned and I moved on... eventually becoming what I am today."

"Who you are today." Lacus corrected him, noticing how even he referred to himself as a thing not a person. "And who are you today?"

"I'm BCPU 4, designation number 74R. Label of preference is Ashino... full name is Markov Johanavich Ashino. Age... unknown... place of birth... unknown... family... unknown... blood type... classified... Interface Unit... the Bane." Ashino rattled off, the oft repeated phrase automaticly spilling from his lips. It wasn't all that hard to remember... his name, his type, his number and the Bane... everything else was unknown or classified.

"What's a BCPU?" Miriallia asked. "And what's the four mean?"

"Biological Central Processing Unit, level 4. I am the control module for the X-3 series GAT mobile suit Bane. I perform the same duties as a standard pilot... but due to my augmentic and biological enhancements, I am more than equal to any Coordinator ever born. I am chemically dependent upon the drug Gamma Glipheptim, which is released into my blood in constant slow doses by internal medical units which must be refueled once per month... without this drug my reactions are slowed, my stamina decreased and I am wracked by terrible spasms of pain until I either recieve more or am injected with the temporary antidote, which staves off withdrawal symptoms for sixteen hours. I am superior in performace specifications to the BCPU level 2 and 3 units and inferior in physical and reflexive specifications to Craydon Louis Thresher, number 31D, BCPU 5 and to Zacharis Quentin Frost, number 13z, BCPU 6. I prefer to think myself saner and more mentally sound than the 5 and 6... but my opinion has little weight and such things are of minor consideration to my handlers and superiors." Ashino explained, his voice bored. He'd had this whole dogma mashed into his brain ever since he first got to the project... it was a part of his personality now... the relative status of him to his peers, the realities of his situation... it was an immutable fact. The expressions on the faces of the girls were horrified but he didn't feel unhappy with his lot in life... it was his lot and he knew nothing else.

"They treat you like you're just a piece of equipment? That's terrible!" Cagalli told him. Ashino shrugged.

"I am just a piece of equipment. Untold tens of millions of dollars have been sunk into my enhancements and training. I have no life outside of war... no home besides my cell here, no family, no loved ones, no friends, few desires... and absolutely nowhere better to go."

"You are a person. You should never let anyone tell you anything to the contrary because it just isn't true. You live, you breath, you talk, you think, you feel pain... you're a human being." Lacus told him, eyes tearing a little in her sympathy for this tormented boy in front of her... a boy so abused he didn't even know it any more.

"Is it this endless optimism that attracts Kira to you?" Ashino suddenly changed tacks, going back to his original question.

"Uhm... I don't precisely know." Lacus replied, off guard. "I know he appreciates having someone always looking on the bright side of things... he gets depressed quite often because of the choices he's had to make and well... I don't want to make more of it than it is... but I'm the only one who can cheer him up again really, when that happens. I don't know exactly why Kira is attracted to me... its not from any one thing, but rather a multitude, I'd say." Ashino nodded, though he didn't understand at all. He looked at the other girls in turn, quirking an eyebrow as he did so.

"And why are your lovers attracted to you?"

"Well, you see..." Cagalli started to reply.

"Ashino... this has gone on long enough... you've been quite informative. But now is not the time for this. You'll have plenty of time to talk to them once they've been inducted into the program." a voice crackled from hidden speakers. The voice sounded slightly weary but wasn't unkind. It was the voice of an older man... a businessman or a office worker of some means, talking to his kids after getting home from work sort of voice.

"Aye aye, Doc." Ashino replied. "What do you want me to do?"

"That's the Doc? He doesn't sound like a mad scientist." Katie whispered to Chanel.

"There is good reason for that... I am not a mad scientist. I am merely a visionary who's vision has been rejected by the people in the light and so must preach from the darkness." the Doc replied, lips curling in a slight smile as he watched the girls jump on the camera screen... clearly they had underestimated the quality of his listening devices. He noted the twins sharing significant looks and head nods... clearly communicating in some form of private code... or perhaps something more. Much like Dr. Prayce had, he'd instantly noted the twins talking style... he'd been involved with projects studying the phenomenon before... just maybe, maybe it was something more than a private code. If that was the case then he was fortunate indeed... such a thing was so rare as to render pricelessness an inadequate adjective. "As for you, Ashino, I want you to come down to the lab. We need to have a talk about your actions."

"Aye aye, Doc." Ashino agreed. He turned and headed for the door and paused just before going out. "What about the captives? With Frost still outside it is not safe for me to open the door."

"Maybe I want Frost to kill them."

"You want them for the project, you said so not a minute ago."

"So I did... good to see you listening. Frost has been taken care of... you needn't concern yourself for the girls... though your chivalry is noted."

"I wasn't concerned for them... beyond their ability to talk they hold no interest for me." Ashino replied... not completely the truth but not a lie either. He wanted to talk to them a great deal more... preferably while they were still themselves.

"Of course. I should have known that desires have no place in your mind... after all, I'm the one that burned them out of you in the first place. They will be returned to their cells. Unharmed, if they cooperate."

"And if we don't?" Chanel challenged.

"Then you will be returned to Cray Thresher's cell, unconscious... an unenviable situation for any female, let me assure you. I want you all for my project... but not so much I cannot afford to make an example of a few of you."

"I'll cooperate... it doesn't seem like we have any choice in the matter." Lacus said with a sigh. She turned to Ashino and bowed politely. "Thank you very much for saving us. I'll remember your good deed and kind nature, even if we never meet again."

"As you will." Ashino replied, face neutral as always. He walked out of the door without a single look back, his stride unconcerned, his posture relaxed. It wasn't more then three seconds before a tide of guards poured through the door, as if to fill the gap he'd left in the room. Staring down into the muzzles of ten machine guns, the girls dejectedly lifted their hands and resigned themselves to returning to their disgusting cells.


	55. Vendetta

Charles yawned, covering his mouth in unconscious politeness as he did so. It had been a long four hours... even for him. Some people thought being an interrogater was easy... that all you did was ask questions and make the perp sweat until they cracked and told you everything. They didn't realize anything about the intense battle of wills that characterized each and every interrogation. Even if the perp caved within the first few minutes, it was still mentally exhausting to drag all the facts out of them, then go back over them several times to make sure everything added up correctly... of course it was exponentially harder on the perp. Especially when he was authorized to use any force at his disposal in order to wring the information from the perp, like he was for this job. But when he was restricted from harming the interrogee... and the interrogee was a hard as granite cold hearted bastard Coordinator, like this Ysak kid was... well sometimes it really felt like he was fighting hand to hand rather than will to will.

Charles finished his yawn and wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead and neck and took another sip of water. He was currently on his fourth pint... something of a record for him... usually the perp cracked by the time he was halfway through the second bottle. His clothes were starting to feel clammy and even the plush armchair was making his back and ass hurt abomidably. He wanted to go home and see his wife and eat dinner with his kids. It was time to call it a day. The perps needed time to recover too, or else they'd be too fragile for the next session. Well, in Dearka's case anyway... Ysak was as pristine as he'd been the entire time. That was one of the reasons Charles was sweating so much... it was harder to be icy cool when the perp wasn't bleeding all over the place, moaning in shock and pain.

"I think we've covered as much ground as we are going to today. I'd usually say it's been pleasant talking with you... but it really hasn't. You've been most uncooperative, Ysak. I am very annoyed with you. I'm sure Dearka will be too... once he regains consciousness. Not very friendly of you, to let him catch the heat from your willful stupidity. All you had to do was answer a few questions... but you consistently refused. And sadly, I believe this is the last time you and I will be seeing each other... by the time our next session is scheduled, Captain Asmodeus will be here. He wants to talk to you, personally. I doubt we'll be meeting again... most people Asmodeus requests by name go the way of the Dodo bird."

"Bastard. When I get out of here... you are going to regret it. And so will your family." Ysak snarled. He looked over at Dearka, sittingly limply in the chair next to him and his anger re-intensified. His best friend's face was so damaged that both eyes were forced shut, the nose was smushed to the side and the cheeks were swollen to twice their normal size. Fist shaped and sized bruises were mixed in with large patches of dried blood to make a checkerboard across his face, down his neck, onto his chest and back around his torso and up to his scalp. The guard's hadn't actually ended up breaking any bones... they may have cracked a rib or two and they'd certainly knocked out a few teeth... so the wounds looked worse than they really were.

But that didn't make things any better. Ysak had been forced to watch his best friend get the crap kicked out of him by a team of sadistic guards for hours... just because the damned guy behind the table wouldn't accept any answer but what he wanted to hear. Even when Ysak broke down and told them about Antartica and everything else he could think of, they still thought he was lying. He'd eventually just stopped talking because he was so mad he was just making things worse by shouting insults at the interrogater. Charles's eyes went as cold as Ysak had yet seen an the unprepossing man got up from his chair and walked over to Ysak with slow, deliberate steps.

"Don't you dare threaten my family, Coordinator. Hate me if you want... but you had better not even dream of hurting my wife and kids. I will kill you and everyone you care about so fast..." Charles trailed off, suddenly reaching forward and grabbing Ysak's head by the hair. Shocked at the sudden physical touch after hours of being left alone, Ysak froze. Long enough for Charles to line up and execute a very professional straight right jab to his nose, which broke loudly and sent blood spraying everywhere.

"Thaught you waren't supposad to tauch me?" Ysak said bitterly, turning his face to absorb most of the force of the blow.

"I didn't touch you... you tripped when you were being escorted out of the room. I'm not responsible for your own clumsiness. Everyone here saw it, right?" Charles asked. The guards all nodded, turning their faces away. "I'll remember you threatened my family when next I see Dearka. The kid gloves are going to come off, I promise. I'll be sure to tell him why his agony has been so greatly intensified. I'm sure he'll appreciate your little verbal jab at his expense." Charles turned away and gathered up his briefcase. "I'm done with them... we'll pick up again at the same time tomorrow. Return them to their cells... and tell medical to send someone to check on Dearka... I need him to be physically capable of withstanding phase IV interrogation techniques." Charles turned to Ysak and smiled grimly.

"Today was phase I techniques... in case you were curious." Charles stalked out of the room and left the prison block area. As he was walking out he noticed the maintainence man working on the door control panel... which was stove in and smashed rather well. Charles privately wondered when that had happened... it had been pristine when he'd walked in. Another man, dressed in a business suit like him and carrying a similar briefcase, gave a small wave as they passed in the hall. "Tim." Charles acknowledged the fellow interrogator.

"Charles." Timothy Vagne, senior interrogator of the JIHAD facility, replied evenly. "You look like you've been through a memorable session."

"It was the rules, Tim... I couldn't hurt the talking perp and it's just not the same to see someone else get punched... doesn't get to them nearly as much as it could. And they were both Coordinator elites... they'd had training in resisting a lot of the techniques. Asmodeus is seeing Ysak... the talker. I've got another session with Dearka... the punching bag... tomorrow. I'm taking him to phase IV for the first round... maybe I'll break his shell with that."

"Not usual for you to be so heavy handed, Charles." Tim said, stopping and looking back at his co-worker. "I thought you preferred the chisel to the sledgehammer."

"He threatened my family. I don't envy you your session... files indicated I had the two easier guys. Have fun... see you tomorrow." Charles said, walking around the corner and heading for the elevator up and out of the base.

"Interesting. Well, Mr. Zala and Mr. Hibiki... this should be most exciting, methinks." Tim cracked his knuckles and rounded his own corner and walked into the cell block. There were twice as many guards as usual waiting for him. "Bring them... and don't mark them yet... I must have unflawed clay to work on." Tim ordered.

-----------------------------------------------

Athrun was dozing in his cell... he was exhausted to tell the truth. At first he'd worried when he woke up... but after investigating the cell and finding it quite beyond his current means to escape from, he'd resolved himself to trying to think of a plan... something coherent that would get all of them out of this terrible situation. It had been a chore initially to block out the sights and smells of his cell... it looked and smelled like someone had been beaten repeatedly to within an inch of their life in here... though there was no-one but him there now. It didn't help that the place was completely bare of all furnishings... not a cot or even a tin can for a toilet. That was going to become a problem in a few hours... but he pushed that aside for the moment. It was part of the psychological war he was currently in.

The enemy was denying them even basic amnenties in an effort to break their will. No doubt there would be questioning too... likely under less than lawful circumstances, if he knew anything about Blue Cosmos. He'd been trained as an elite in what to do and expect if captured by the enemy... but somehow he didn't remember seeing Blue Cosmos sign the various articles and treaties that governed the treatment of POWs and civilians during wartime. Anything could happen... up to and including torture and summary execution... though if they were going to be killed they probably would have done it already. That they hadn't meant that Blue Cosmos thought they could be used for something... despite what Cervantes had said about honoring Sai's wishes... that was a load of bullshit... the man would have killed them with his bare hands if he hadn't thought of something worse to do to them.

Thinking of Cervantes and Sai caused him to grimace in distaste. Sai in particular. He hadn't known the guy well... but he'd been directly responsible for Cagalli being declared a fugitive and the peace talks breaking down... thus a part of the reason why the war started at all. Indirectly responsible if what Cervantes said about his daughter luring the information out of him after sex... but Athrun didn't fully buy that. He and Cagalli had sex quite often... he still didn't tell her about the secret things he knew of Ysak and Dearka and even Kira for that matter. God know's she'd asked... sure it was innocent curiosity about her only sibling... but there were some things you should only get direct from the horses mouth... not secondhand. The intent to tell had to be there before anything was told, in Athrun's opinion. Athrun wasn't mad at Sai for the blow to his own reputation... which was abysmal as things were. He didn't care what the world thought about him. All he cared about was the terrible damage done to Cagalli... and indirectly the world...by the intolerance and betrayal of one young man, a friend of his own best friend... a friend of the brother of the person he'd brought down. If and when he got out of here... after he'd remonstrated with Kira a bit about his too trusting nature and incautious impulses... if he ever met Sai again... well... he wouldn't kill him. But he'd make damn sure Sai realized just what a mistake he'd made, dragging Cagalli's entire life through a latrine like that.

Thinking of Cagalli, likewise imprisoned by Blue Cosmos, likely held not too far from his current location, also made him angry. Angrier than he'd been since the death of Nicol. He didn't so much care what Blue Cosmos did to him... but the thought of them hurting Cagalli tore like a knife through his heart. The thought of Lacus and the other girls being similarly abused hurt as well... they'd done nothing besides fall in love and yet here they were, suffering for the alleged genetic sins of Athrun and Kira and Dearka and Ysak. It was so stupid that he almost cried out in frustration. Little wonder the Coordinators fought back, when the enemy was hatred and ignorance like this. You couldn't reason with these people... you could only fight them. And just defeating them didn't work either... they'd always be back, in bigger numbers, with worse atrocities at hand. Of course, killing them all wouldn't solve anything either... it'd just make them popular heroes and martyrs... spawning the cycle all over again. He tried to stop thinking about it... the endless cycle was making his head hurt. It was while he was doing this that he'd dozed off... getting what sleep he could while he could.

Sleep ended when the reinforced steel door sprung open with a shriek of metal on metal and four large and heavily armed naturals charged into the room. They grabbed him by the upper arms and hustled him out of the cell. They didn't quite rough him up in the process... but they weren't gentle either and he got the impression that if he'd resisted even slightly they would have been more than glad to make him regret it. He did not resist in the slightest... he thought he could probably take the four who grabbed him... they weren't the most alert people he'd seen. But they had lots of friends out in the hall... at least eight more guards were standing around looking twitchy mean with fingers on triggers or metal batons hefted in hand. Them he could not take. The guards did not waste time... without even saying a word he was dragged or carried... depending on your definition of the word... down the hall and into a small room equipped with camera's hanging from the ceiling and an automated gun projecting from the wall.

The sentry gun tracked him closely... barrel looking big enough to fit his thumb into. Something else to remember... this place was probably well equipped with similar sentry guns... it wouldn't do to go blindly running around corners in here. Athrun was hustled through another door into what looked like a dungeon, with a metal table and four metal chairs all bolted to the ground roughly in the middle. A plush armchair faced the bolted down chairs across the table. A small wooden table well stocked with water bottles stood at the side of the armchair. Athrun was pushed into one of the two chairs in the center of the room and was handcuffed arm and leg to the chair. The guards left, except for two who stood to either side of the door, watching him coldly. Athrun looked around the interrogation room.

The chair to his right was smeared with recently dried blood... whoever had shed it had done so not more than a few minutes ago, if that... some of the clots still looked to be flowing slightly. Athrun grimaced... it appeared that interrogations had already been underway... he wondered who'd been unlucky enough to go first. He studied the gore besmirtched chair... somewhat to his relief there wasn't an overwhleming amount... whoever had been in the chair had been hurt and not lightly... but it didn't look like they'd bled enough to indicate serious or life threatening wounds. He supposed that was a good thing, in a way. Blue Cosmos not only wanted to keep them alive, it wanted them relatively unhurt as well... though that did bode ill for the reasons behind the generosity, such as it was. Anything Blue Cosmos needed Coordinators to be reasonably healthy for was not likely to be anything wholesome... the organization much preferred to just gun their enemies down indiscriminately. This patience and planning was unlike them... another indication of just how serious the situation was. Athrun did not doubt for a moment that this facility... wherever it was... was one of the nerve centers of the entirety of Blue Cosmos... if not the beating heart itself.

Athrun was not left to contemplate long... within minutes the guards were back in force, dragging Kira. Kira looked slightly worse for the wear... he too had also not struggled but the guards seemed to regard him with a special sort of loathing. A Coordinator was bad, taboo and evil. A Coordinator like Athrun Zala as all those things squared. But the Ultimate Coordinator... a child birthed entirely without biological input... that apparently was the greatest monstrosity imaginable. The guards indicated their displeasure at handling Kira by shoving him as roughly as possible, causing him to bang himself up more than a little as they secured him ruthlessly to the chair next to Athrun's. Athrun's restraints were tight enough to be uncomfortable... Kira's were locked so tight that they cut the flesh of his wrists and ankles.

"Not exactly how I wanted the day to turn out." Kira commented with a meagre smile as the guards, finally happy with his restraints, left the room again. The door watchers glared at him fiercely but did not stop them from talking. "I'm sorry Athrun... I was stupid to expect that my words could have gotten through to Sai. It was plain that he'd changed considerably since I last saw him... I just didn't want to believe it. He was my best friend, after you. I just can't believe he's a member of Blue Cosmos."

"Kira..." Athrun said sharply. Kira looked up from where he'd cast his eyes down in apology. "That isn't the issue right now. We can all agree on how stupid you were later. Preferably after we get out of here." Athrun ignored the amused snorts of the guards, who plainly didn't give much for their chance of escape. "I'm willing to forgive you... it wasn't all your fault... Sai did take advantage of your somewhat too trusting nature. Just... don't make a habit of being so trusting... okay? Once I can forgive and forget. If you put Cagalli into another situation like this through blind faith in your expectations of others... we'll have more than words."

"I understand. I can imagine that most everyone is pretty angry with me." Kira nodded. "No doubt there will be very harsh language directed at me once we escape."

"If that's all that's directed at you, you should count yourself very fortunate." Athrun muttered. "I'm one of your best friends, Kira. And if I wasn't chained to this chair right now... I'd smack you. Hard... repeatedly. Think on that. Then think of Alkire and Vladimir and Raine. And Kisaka."

"Yeah, I get the picture. There's no need for threats." Kira retorted. "I'm not an idiot... I can figure out for myself that a lot of people are going to want to take a swing... or a shot... at me. I'll deal with it." Kira cranked his neck around to look Athrun in the eye. "If you need someome to blame you can blame me... sure. But smear some of the blame on yourself too. You're supposed to be more sensible than me, by all accounts. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Stop you? I would have had to punch your lights out to stop you." Athrun hissed.

"Then do that next time!" Kira snapped back.

"I will, thank you." Athrun paused. "You just remember you said that... I don't need Cagalli and Lacus on my case just cause you need a few ounces of common sense drilled fistfirst into your head."

"Oh, like you've never needed that? What was with that little stunt in the Justice I heard about? I asked you to protect Cagalli... I didn't ask you to blow yourself up and leave her to fend for herself in the process. Or that trip to the PLANTS... even you said it was a stupid idea to go see your father. If Lacus and Mr. Waltfeld hadn't rescued you you'd probably still be in jail. I oughta smacked you then, but you know me... always the nice guy." Kira shot back.

"Fine, that's how you want it, eh, Mr. Nice Guy? You got some nerve, bringing up stuff like that. Sure, I may have made some rash decisions... but they're nothing compared to the crap you do regularly. Don't talk to me about stupid ideas... you're the prince of stupid ideas."

"That's it... you are my friend, Athrun. My best friend. I can put up with a lot. But stop calling me stupid! I made my decisions because I thought they were the best thing to do at that time. If you've got a problem with that, we need to address it."

Athrun sighed heavily. "Let's just drop it... this isn't the time or the place." he said with a head shake. _Stupid idiot._ It wasn't until he heard Kira draw a sharp intake of breath that Athrun realized he'd whispered that as well as thought it... and of course Kira's hearing was as good as it ever was.

"Oh... I'm done. That is it! Once we get out of here... good and gone, safe all of us... I'm going to kick your ass, Athrun. I've had it with everyone criticising me for the things I've done! You aren't me... you don't know how hard making the decisions is. You may make hard decisions of your own that I don't understand... but I don't shove them in your face all the time!"

"Whatever. I'd personally really like to see you try to kick my ass. Frankly, I don't think you can. Ysak... maybe. You... no. Not going to happen."

"We'll see about that."

"We will, won't we?"

They were cut off mid argument by the sound of a man chuckling in honest amusement. They both looked around to the door, where a middle aged man with a thick mane of slightly curly black hair stood casually in the door. The man wore a business suit of fine make and carried a metal briefcase easily in one hand. "Teenagers and their tough talk. It never fails to amuse me... you always have to talk so much shit before you really get down and dirty and into the fight. An interesting psychological phenomenon but not currently relavent... you two have far more to worry about than a fist fight that will probably never take place."

"And who the hell are you?" Kira asked, still very pissed off. It felt good to let his anger flow for once... usually he kept it under tight rein. It wasn't something he wanted to do often but right now he really had had it as far as he was willing to take it. Maybe fighting wasn't the way to solve most problems... but some things just couldn't be resolved without fighting for them. He dimly recalled Alkire giving him advice similar to that a long time ago back in Switzerland... something about provoking a fight and feeling better about things afterwards, win or lose.

"My name is Timothy Vagne. Around here I am better known as Terrible Tim. For reasons which should become rapidly evident to you. I am the interrogator in charge of extracting every last scrap of potentially vital information from you... before you are turned over to Doc for his experiments. You two are very valuable intelligence assets... there is much that Mr. Hibiki can tell us about the workings of Orb and the Archangel and an even greater volume of things Mr. Zala has inside his head regarding the ZAFT forces. I expect to be seeing a lot of you two... both together and individually... over the next few days or weeks. I certainly hope for the former... if you force me to take weeks to extract what I want to know... well, I'm Terrible Tim. I'll do terrible things to you." the man replied casually.

"Unlike most of the interrogators here, I prefer a more personal touch. The others utilize the innate talents of the guards... such as they are. But I find that people are more willing to talk when their words actually might stay the blows of the man hitting them, rather than be forced to trust that they will appease someone slightly detached from it all. And the same applies to the more esoteric torture techniques as well... all of which I am sadly sure I will be introducing to you two. You strike me as the sort who are loyal unto the end to their friends, their ideas and their morals. Too bad the rest of the world is not like you two, eh?"

"So you're going to try to torture information out of us... surely you know that is pointless. Athrun and I won't tell you anything. You must have studied us a little... you know my birth name after all. I find it hard to believe anything even a casual perusal of our lives could grant you would indicate that I... or Athrun, would be at all cooperative, no matter what you do to us." Kira said icily.

"There is truth in what you say. But it never hurts to try. Well... it never hurts me." Tim replied with a sunny smile. "After all, we won't know what stimulus it takes to crack your defiant shell until it actually cracks and you spill everything I want to know, will we? And, distasteful as it is to an artist like myself, if you do prove as resilient as you think you are... why I can merely arrange for a special joint session with Lacus and Cagalli... maybe your tongues would loosen when it is them who is hooked up to the electric chair, hmm?"

"You would NOT want to do that." Kira said very firmly.

"Oh... pray tell, why not?"

"Because if you hurt even a single hair upon Lacus's or Cagalli's head... I would forget myself and KILL you where you stood."

"And if he didn't, I would." Athrun added, voice deadly serious.

"You might find it hard to accomplish my death while chained to your chairs like you currently are."

"If you really believe that these chains would stop me if you hurt Lacus..." Kira just trailed off and shook his head in a pitying manner.

"Hmph." Tim shrugged, recovering as much poise as he could... he wasn't used to being so comprehensively threatened by his subjects... he was actually slightly intimidated by the monsters. They certainly made good threats... as someone who made threats for a living he could recognize quality when he heard it. "Why am I not dead now, then? I may not have touched them myself, but it is my understanding that the female prisoners underwent a group session with Nervous Angie several hours ago... those who walk out of Nervous Angie's clutches tend to do so missing bits of themselves... and not in the metaphorical sense."

"Lacus wasn't hurt... she was scared and confused but not hurt. Not even by the pain of others, which always hurts her as well. I don't know who this Nervous Angie is... but she hasn't lived up to her reputation so far as I can see." Kira retorted calmly.

"How can you be so sure?" Tim growled wrathfully... he was of course briefed on Ashino's intervention on behalf of the female prisoners, who were now being treated with more respect... very slightly more, but it was an admission that he was not happy with at all. To give in to the perp was the worst sin he could imagine... a fatal weakness no interrogator could ever afford to fall prey to. But there was no way Kira Hibiki could know of the outcome of the failed interrogation. Utterly no way.

"I would know if Lacus was hurt. I don't know how, but I would. I'm certain of it." Kira replied.

"You sure?" Athrun muttered.

"Completely. I don't know why... but if Lacus or the people around her were hurt I'd know about it. Trust me."

"Of course."

"Thanks."

"Okay... now that you're done male bonding... I suggest we get on with some metal to flesh bonding!" Tim snarled, angry at being ignored. He opened his briefcase and removed a heavy pair of gloves, which he donned, and then took out a heavy soldering iron... usually a tool he reserved for the endgame but right now... terrible things were going through his mind. Terrible things. He activated the tool and smiled teresly as he smelt the air heating up around the tip. He eye'd Kira's hand meaningfully. "Where are the Archangel and Kusanagi hiding? Where is your main base? You have ten seconds to answer. Ten... nine... two... one... oh, out of time..." Tim strode forward. Kira just stared at him impassively, as did Athrun. Tim grimaced... this wasn't any fun at all. He couldn't get into it if they didn't show fear. He gritted his teeth... Charles had it right... he'd gotten the easy pair... this was not going to be a fun session.

-------------------------------------

Asmodeus groaned as he tried to stretch his back to work the kinks out. He really was getting too old for this sort of crap. It may have been a luxury travel jet... but it had still been an eighteen hour flight and he never slept well on airplanes... especially unarmed ones. But he was as fresh as could be reasonably expected given his tight schedule. He had his business to take care of here at JIHAD, after which he was due for another ten hour flight to rendevous with the Purifier and an AF fleet due to take part in the Australian Maneuver, for which the opening missile salvos would be launched in... approximately... twenty hours time. Five hours after the missiles were launched... or whenever the last missile impacted or was destroyed, whichever came first... the land, sea and air attack would commence. Five hours after that... or as soon as Carpentaria engaged with its full forces, the space fleet would launch it's deathstrike.

If all went according to plan... Asmodeus for once could not see any reason why it should not... in a little more than a day the war would be over and he could get back to his normal life of dealing with security matters... retirement, for a man like him. He tugged his uniform shirt into a more comfortable position and adjusted the pistol holster on his belt so it hung more securely from his hip. His uniform was cut in the same style as a Naval Commander's... but instead of white and grey his uniform was dark grey and black with crimson splotches... the special uniform of the Hellhound unit. He wore the rank insignia of a Colonel... he'd retired a Captain but Cervantes had felt him deserving of a more upper tier title and had him reinstated as a Colonel at the beginning of the war. Asmodeus didn't particularly care... he was a Captain as far as he was concerned and everyone who knew him always referred to him as Captain, so that was all that mattered.

"All right... time to get this done with so I can finally sleep at night." Asmodeus muttered. It was true that sometimes his sleep was troubled with visions of his son, Ray. They'd never been particularly close as father and son... he'd kept tabs on the boy, who had tried to avoid him as much as possible... an independent streak acquired during Asmodeus's extended absences during the boy's childhood no doubt, since there was no other parent around... his wife had died soon after bearing the boy. But Ray had still been his son, damn it... he wasn't always proud of the boy, but they were blood. And blood cried out for blood. Ray always appeared in his nightmares with a hole fleshly blown in his temple, eyes weeping blood as he clawed at Asmodeus's legs, begging to be told why he had to be killed... by a Coordinator of all things.

Asmodeus had never been an ultra Blue Cosmos fanatic... he was a dues paying member and he killed Coordinators for a living at times... but he did not hate them as a people. There were many of them he did hate... Rau Le Creuset... Patrick Zala... most of ZAFT high command... but Coordinators as a whole... they were just people. And he hated this Coordinator... this Ysak Joule... like he hated no other. The boy would pay for killing Ray. Asmodeus swore it. He felt the jet touch down with a gentle bump at the concealed runway that serviced the civilian side of JIHAD... there was also a military airstrip but it mostly serviced mobile suits... it was not big enough for the jet to land on. The civilian entrance was closer to his goal anyway... the military side had all the factories and storage areas.

"Captain Sark, sir... we've landed and there is a vehicle waiting for you. We'll be refueled in two and a half hours... Mr. Cervantes wants you back onboard before then." the pilot said over the intercomm.

"I understand. This won't take that long." Asmodeus pulled on his uniform cap and waited impatiently for the drop down door-stairs to deploy. The moment it touched the ground he was down and walking at a brisk pace towards the camouflage painted humvee parked a few meters away. He had buckled himself into the passenger seat before he recognized the tall and slight blond haired driver. "What are you doing here, Cray?" Asmodeus demanded, putting one hand cautiously on his pistol.

"I live here, sir. You may have noticed that." Cray Thresher replied with a grin at his own sarcasm. His grin died when he saw the very unamused look on Asmodeus's face. _What the hell is bugging him? Isn't he here to kill someone in a messy way? He should be smiling. I would be._ "Fine... the Doc ordered me to give you a hand... you may think yourself perfectly capable of handling them alone but these people are Coordinators... and you're getting up there in the age department. It'd be pretty embarrassing if the Coordinator managed to off both your son AND you, don't you think? I'm just along for your protection."

"Very well. Now shut up and drive. And don't talk about my son."

"Yes SIR!" Cray cried in mock fear. "Yeesh... so grim." he murmured to himself as he shifted the vehicle into drive and quickly drove up the winding path through the mountains that led to one of the vehicle access ports to JIHAD. The facility was enormous... about half as big as the old JOSH-A site in Alaska... massive for a non-government owned facility. It had factories for producing mobile suits and a year round staff of 5000 civilian technicians and scientists, plus a Blue Cosmos military presence that was quite strong as well. It was here that all of the advanced weapon technology utilized by the cream of Blue Cosmos was designed and built. Cray drove into what looked like a cleft in the side of a mountain... and kept driving down the spiraling ramp for a good two hundred meters, descending about a quarter that distance in the meanwhile.

He finally parked the humvee in a garage filled with civilian cars of all makes and models... many of them luxury vehicles owned by the scientists themselves. Asmodeus was out of the vehicle before Cray had fully finished parking it... across three lines... but who was going to give HIM a parking ticket anyway? Clearly the intelligence director was in a hell of a hurry. Cray could understand... he was going in with the main force of the Australian Maneuver too... he couldn't wait. Though he wasn't going to leave for another ten hours or so... he was just going to fly straight through with the Merciless, along with the Bane and the Fury and a complement of Crusader's from JIHAD. Cray pocketed the keys and strode after Asmodeus... his long legs making catching up depressingly easy.

"I'll need you to collect the Coordinator and bring him to the waste disposal pit. I'll meet you there... I've got to collect some collateral items." Asmodeus instructed without looking as soon as Cray caught up.

"What sort of items?" Cray asked.

"That's not your concern. Your concern is meeting me at the waste pit in fifteen minutes with the Coordinator... fully alive, unharmed and conscious."

"Me or him?"

"Him... I don't give a damn about you."

"Bastard... I should kill you. I can, you know... there's no way you can move fast enough to trigger the self detonate control... I'm right next to you. I can tear your head off before you can blink... hehe, yeah." Cray smiled viciously, imagining the blood spray. It would be glorious. He started to bring his hands up. Then his eyes met Asmodeus's. He stared into the ice blue chips for what felt like forever... feeling his murder intent drain away like blood from a artery. "Or not." Cray ripped his gaze away and shivered... what was with those freaking eyes? Cray was a stone cold murderous bastard... evil to the core. But those eyes scared him... as much as Frost did or more. Frost was just plain fucked up crazy... you knew that going in. Asmodeus was just a guy... a forty something year old guy, a natural. But those eyes... they weren't at all human... he didn't know what they were but he was glad they were looking elsewhere.

"Don't mess this up, Cray." Asmodeus admonished.

"If I don't?" Cray asked, interested.

"You can have point when we attack Carpentaria... you go in before Frost." Asmodeus told him.

"And if I do?"

"Frost goes into you, fists first... and I take your limbs and have them made into candlesticks."

"That's fucked up. I like it. But I don't wanna experience it. I'll get you your Coordinator... Ysak right? The guy with the scar."

"That's him. He's in cell Alpha 4. Now git." Asmodeus strode into the elevator, leaving Cray standing up in the garage, cut off by the closing doors. By the time he'd gotten down into the confinement levels, he only had five minutes left of his time. Cray muttered nastily to himself... but forced himself to move faster. The waste pit was on the same level as the detention facility, so getting there would not likely be a problem. He didn't want to go to the waste pit though... that was where the dumped the useless biological waste parts of the BCPU's that failed to perform to spec. It was like visiting your own open grave... he'd be tossed in there eventually, when he finally died. Whenever that far away date was. But he wanted to go on point in the next attack more than his fear could compensate for... he strode briskly into the cell detention area like he owned the place.

He'd certainly spent enough time in here to own it. He'd always been something of a problem child, even before becoming a fiver. THE fiver, now. The guards stayed well out of his path... his expression was stormy and he was like as not to kill the first person to cross his path... except for Ysak. Cray reached Alpha four and ripped the door open so hard he bent the hinges. Ysak... the tall silver haired Coordinator with the pale scar across his face, leapt off his bed in a small splash of shit effluent from the crap caked all over the floor. He was dressed in a mostly spotless dinner tuxedo... except for the few spots of blood that had fallen from his freshly broken nose, which was clotted with dried blood. Someone had busted it but good... within the last day too. Cray licked his lips.

"What do you want?" Ysak demanded, his anger burning white hot and close to the surface... if this was another interrogation session they'd have to drag him in unconscious... and mising a few of their number as well. It was strange though, there seemed to be only the one abnormally tall and somewhat emaciated looking soldier in an unremarkable uniform. The guy had lank blond hair and flat grey eyes like those of a decaying corpse. His uniform hung off him like rags on a scarecrow. A devilish smile was plastered on his face and as Ysak watched the man licked his lips in a suggestive fashion.

"I want to kill you." Cray replied. "But I can't. Orders, you see. So I'm just going to take you with me somewhere."

"Like hell. You're not taking me anywhere, you skeletal freak. Not without a few broken bones on your part anyway."

"Ooh... that's a laugh. Here... give it your best shot... but hurry... we're on a deadline here." Cray mocked, holding out his right arm. Ysak eyed him warily and then grabbed the arm and twisted it around so it would snap at the elbow joint. Well... he grabbed it anyway. With all his weight and muscles straining, he couldn't move the thin arm more than a few inches back and down. It was impossible that such a thin limb... no thicker than Chanel's, certainly... could withstand his attempts to break it. He even had leverage on his side. The sudden realization hit him like a bucket of ice water.

"You're one of them. Like the girl... she was tall and bony too. You're one of Frost's things."

"A BCPU. Yes. But I'm not like Frost... yet. Yet. I'm the next best though. And you're coming with me, Ysak. You've got a date with death. Yours, if I'm not mistaken. But not at my hands... there's a bereaved father waiting at the other end of the line for you. Now, c'mere... we need to hustle." Cray suddenly oozed into the room... agile despite how ungainly he looked, he seemed to scuttle his way around rather than walk, like a giant human spider. Within a second he had lifted Ysak from the floor like a featherweight and flipped him around into a half nelson wrestling hold. Holding the struggling and cursing Coordinator like a large misbehaving child, Cray quickstepped out of the detention facility and towards the waste pit. He should have enough time... he didn't want to be late.

--------------------------------

The sensation was like sitting on a warm beach, surrounded by gently lapping waves and rustling palm trees, in some tropical paradise somewhere. Chanel imagined herself sitting on the soft white sand, cross legged, just soaking up the heat from the sand. There was no sun... just nonspecific light that filtered down from somewhere above. The water appeared next, aquamarine blue, even lighter than her eyes... a blue that was so pure it could never exist in nature. Slowly her mind filled in the familiar illusion, mapping it out and blocking out the cell she knew was actually around her. She was actually sitting on her cot thing in the tiny cell which stunk like death and pain and resonated with the screams of children... but in her mind none of that existed... no walls, no doors, no smell, no screams... though those were harder to ignore, since they weren't actually physically present. Her breathing slowed and became deeper... even deeper than sleep.

The outside world faded almost entirely from perception as the sun warmed lounge chair grew out of the sand under here, along with an accompanying side table complete with iced fruit drink and a straw sun hat to cover her head. The hat she'd always found odd... not quite sure where in her mind it came from or what it represented. It was definitely out of place here... in this land of dreams clothing was not even a concept, much less a reality. She was just getting settled when she felt the approach... as usual Katie wasn't as practiced as her... she spent too much time in the real world exercising her real muscles, rather than here, exercising the mind muscles. Within moments her twin sister appeared, walking out of the water that had been empty a moment before.

_Always the beach... I would have thought you'd have changed it after Hawaii._ Katie commented. She didn't speak exactly... her mouth didn't move. Or rather, Chanel could not see it move... Katie's facial features were hazy and indistinct and her voice did not always come from her present location. It had taken getting used to, but now it was just the way she expected them to be. She wasn't awake right now, in the traditional sense... the dream world didn't have to follow the laws of physics.

_You've improved your shielding... I can't tell what you're feeling with that haze over your face. As for the beach... well, unlike you I don't fixate on a new thing every few days... this beach is my next best friend after you... I'm not going to just change it on a whim._ Chanel replied. She could not feel her own mouth move and did not hear her own words... but she knew what she said. More strangeness that at first had been frightening but now was just matter of fact.

_You mean after Ysak and me._ Katie corrected, walking around and sitting on the lounge chair beside Chanel. Chanel did not move but she allowed the chair to stretch a little to accomodate both of them... it was her mind, her dream, her place... she could alter it pretty much how she wanted.

_Of course. Speaking of... could you feel him a while ago? I could almost swear I felt something from him._

_It was another echo from Lacus and Kira. He's latent, you know._

_I do know. She isn't... she's an Active, like us. She doesn't know it and probably wouldn't believe us if we told her, but she is._

_Belief... a sore subject... Ysak just won't listen to us about this._

_I don't blame him... if I didn't live it I probably wouldn't believe it either... this sort of thing is usually consigned to the pages of fiction novels._ Chanel said with a pang of mixed embarrassment and anger. Why was it her fault she'd been born with this ability? Why was it so strange that she and her twin sister had had to be taken from their parents and reared like animals in captivity, in a lab somewhere that studied the Newtype mutation? What had she or Katie done to deserve that? Why them?

_Why not us? Would you rather it was someone else... another waif like the ones at the center?_ Katie asked, eavesdropping on the private thought. She was getting good at that... Chanel would have to watch it. _At least we have the strength to use it... rather than live in fear of it, not understanding the voices we hear around us... the thoughts not our own that we sometimes stumble across... can even direct at times._

_Of course not. I was just thinking that... well, sometimes I wish we didn't have this power, you know?_

_Sometimes? All the times, sister. It's made a bloody hash of our life... we don't like to admit it but we both know what I'm thinking._

_We are our own people, Katie. You have to believe that. We aren't one mind... no matter what those scientists said. They don't know... they just theorize. None of them are Actives... none were even Latents. I'm Chanel. You are Katie. Keep it together. If we freak out... well at the least neither of us will get Ysak... and that would be worse than death. Love for us doesn't just fall out of the blue sky... I wasn't even sure we could until I saw him._

_Now we... I... know we can though. We can make it work. It won't be fun or easy, but we can make it work. Thanks, sis, for the backup there. This place is getting to me... so many bad flashbacks._

_Want some help with those? I've got mine pretty much locked down._

_I can maintain my own mind, thank you. If you're really looking for something to do you can try looking for the others... I know it's hard to sense them through the walls, but you're far better at that than I ever could be._

_I've been trying... it's not easy, like you said... but I think everyone is within this one cell block... we're all right next to each other... as much good as that does us with the walls and doors and guards everywhere. I've tried beepcalling them... but you know as well as I how hard it is to beepcall even a Latent... much less a Stump. They've just been dismissing me as this place getting to them as well._

_Have you tried to beepcall Lacus? As a fellow Active, she'd probably receive you no problem. Sure... it might be a little strange but..._

_A little strange? Just sitting in your cell, worried stiff when suddenly a familiar voice pops out of nowhere into the back of your head after a sudden loud "BEEP!" and says "Hi... this is Chanel... I'm an Active Newtype, like you. I'm communicating with you telepathically. It's called beepcalling, like the cell phone stuff. You can do it too, you just don't know how. Bye... call back in a minute." ... she'll probably think she went crazy. The only thing worse than beepcalling an unknowing Active would be inviting her straight into the trance... forcing her in this case. I know you know what can result from something like that. I wouldn't wish that on any friend of mine... I'd hold off on some mortal enemies for that matter. I'm not beepcalling either her or Kira until we can explain to them in the real world first. And I'd strongly suggest you don't do so either._

_Yeah, yeah... I hear you... hold on... what the...?_ Katie's trance image suddenly blinked out, pulled instantly from the dream world. Chanel blinked and dispelled the trance herself... when an Active disappeared from the trance so suddenly it was usually because they'd just been woken by some outside stimulus... and any outside stimulus in this place was not a good thing. Chanel did not have long to wonder about what was going on... she could already feel Katie moving closer to her. If she closed her eyes should could almost see the pulsing blue spark representing her sister's mind moving closer to her from around the corner. The blue spark was surrounded by three flickering yellow sparks... Stumps. Normal people, who for the most part had no idea the mentally talented even existed... and could be contacted by Actives only with the greatest difficulty.

Ninety nine point nine nine nine for several iterations percent of humanity... Naturals and Coordinators both, were Stumps. Most of what was left were Latent Newtypes... in Chanel's mind they would be red sparks... there was only one she could detect within her radius and that was Kira, currently asleep in his cell on the opposite wing, recovering from some moderately burned hands... wounds from his own interrogation. He was having a nightmare about something... Chanel took care not to look... Latents were much more receptive to mental efforts... for a practiced Active like her, Kira's subconscious mind was like an open book that she could read whenever she wanted. Of course she didn't... she respected him too much to do so... but she could if need be. The tiniest fraction of people remaining were Active Newtypes, like her and Katie and Lacus. Most Active Newtypes were unaware of their talents, like Lacus was... they either manifested not at all or subconsciously. The Stumps and Katie stopped in front of her door.

Chanel spared one last check around... she exerted herself and checked in on Cagalli and Miriallia... both were sleeping fitfully... it was hard to get a good read on them... it was like looking into a shaded room through thick gauze... but they were as all right as they could be, given the circumstances. She did not have to exert herself to check Lacus... on the contrary she had to shield herself a bit so she didn't disturb her. Chanel had only a limited sense of newtype power... she knew she was about as strong a Newtype as there was, and so was Katie... but she sensed a great depth to Lacus that wasn't immediately obvious to the physical senses. Maybe that meant she was an exceptionally strong Newtype... maybe it just meant she had a lot more to her personality than the nice girl everyone saw on the surface. Chanel wouldn't be able to tell for sure until she tranced with her... a faraway event if anything. She was just about to check Ysak when the door opened and a man walked in. She started and her eyes flew open... she'd heard his steps on the floor but hadn't sensed his mind at all. That had never happened to her before. The man was familiar... she'd seen him at least once before. She leafed through her memory for the image, finding it within nanoseconds. "Captain Asmodeus Sark. What do you want?"

Asmodeus had a very grim look on his face. "You are coming with me, Chanel Belaruse. We have business to conduct. You can come quietly or my men can carry you... your choice."

How could she not sense him? It was like his mind was a fire banked so well not even the heat shimmer was visible... she knew disciplined people could shield their minds... Katie had just done it to her during the trance... but there was no way Asmodeus could be a Active... if he was he'd already be trying to get into her head by now, she was sure... she wasn't hidden at all, he would have been sure to have sensed her. Could it be that a Stump with a sufficiently disciplined mind could become practically invisible to mental detection? She'd never heard of such a thing... but that was little surprise... she was making most of it up as she went along... there wasn't exactly a manual on being a Newtype. "I'll go quietly."

"Excellent. I don't particularly like manhandling young girls. Hold out your wrists, I'm going to cuff you." Asmodeus instructed. She did as she was told... he cuffed her wrists together and then chained the cuffs to a canvas belt he looped around her waist with a very short chain, in effect binding her hands to her waist. She was grateful for the belt in a way... her makeshift dress-skirt didn't stay on very well and the belt went a long way towards preserving her privacy. Not that it mattered much to her if she went nude... but the guards around here seemed to have trouble keeping their hands to themselves and that she definitely did mind. She stepped out into the hall and sidled up close to Katie, who was bound in a similar fashion.

_BEEP. This is strange... I can't feel Asmodeus at all._ Katie flicked her head slightly in irritation at the close range beepcall from her sister. She didn't know why the messages always arrived like that... it was like someone flicked her on the forehead with their forefinger just prior to every message... not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to get her attention.

_Tell me about it. And can you keep it down... it's like you're yelling?_ Chanel blinked in apology at the grouchy reply from Katie. She felt the announcement flick-beep as well... it was just part of the system... everyone she'd ever successfully beepcalled had felt it... maybe it was a mechanism of the brain being stimulated that usually remained unused... she didn't know and didn't really care. "Where are we going to conduct this business? And what business can you have with Katie and I? What could we tell you..."

"...That Uncle Alkire, Raine and TEMPEST could not?" Katie finished, butting in to the thought. "I mean, they're the commandos... we're..."

"...Just two teenaged girls with a few hobbies that have to do with special forces stuff." Chanel stole the conversation line back.

"Do you always talk in sequence like that?" Asmodeus asked.

"Only when..." Chanel began.

"...We're together." Katie finished.

"Then I'll have to ask you to stop speaking... you're making my head hurt worse than usual."

"I'm sorry." they chorused in perfect unison. Asmodeus glared at them from over his shoulder as they walked, his ice blue chip like eyes meeting their cerulean blue orbs. They did not back down... he could respect that... few could stare him down or even resist being stared down by him.

"Don't do that either." he warned them. Both girls opened their mouths to apologize again... he forestalled them with an upraised finger. "Ah... we're here. You men can leave... I won't be long." Asmodeus ordered, drawing his pistol. He gestured through the doorway that lead into the cavern over the waste pit. "Ladies first." Chanel and Katie walked through the doorway and down the short rocky tunnel. The room was quite dim. "Keep walking straight and do not stop or turn until I say so." Asmodeus ordered. "If you do not do exactly as I say I'll blow either one of your heads off." Chanel and Katie looked at each other and shrugged in snychronity. They walked together, side by side, into the middle of the room. It wasn't long past the tunnel when their feet rang on mesh decking rather than stone. The very faint smell of decaying rubbish wafted from somewhere.

"Where are we... I can't see more than a few feet in any direction." Katie asked.

"I don't..." Chanel started to say when Asmodeus hit the room lights... not more than crude spotlights bolted to rocky outcrops on the walls, but more than enough to illuminate the room. What there was of it. The girls were standing on a mesh walkway that was suspended by ceiling cables over a great dark chasm that took up three fourths of the floor of the room. The walkway formed a "Y" shape, with the base towards the room exit and the two forks ending at opposite corners of the far wall. The chasm went down farther than the spotlights could illuminate... more than four hundred meters all told, straight to the bottom of the roots of the mountains. It was here that all hazardous waste and biological byproducts of JIHAD... including most of the bodies of guards, technicians and especially BCPU's...were disposed of in complete security. It was here that Asmodeus would exact his revenge. He moved out onto the catwalk and pushed Chanel to one end of the Y fork, chaining her chains to the decking, forcing her to kneel with her back to the wall. He did a similar thing for Katie on the other fork. Preperations were complete. Now he just needed Cray to show up with the star and he could get on with things.


	56. Mistaken Revenge

Ysak struggled mightily in the grip of the lean BCPU... but no matter how hard he twisted or how often he kicked, he just could not get free. It was humiliating to be carried like this... he hadn't been lifted about like this since he was five. Worse was that the damn BCPU... whatever that meant... just seemed to think his struggling was amusing at best. A full grown man who worked out for a living wouldn't have been able to carry Ysak with such contempuous ease, especially when he was doing his best to get free. "You're a monster, you know that?" Ysak complained, ineffectively striking at Cray with his non-locked arm. "An inhuman monster."

"I never denied that. We're all just who we're made to be, by circumstance or desire. Lucky for me, my circumstances fufilled my desires." Cray replied. "Would you stop twitching? I'm under orders not to hurt you... but you're really stroking my pleasure centers... if you keep it up I might not be able to stop myself from breaking your limbs."

"You're sick... seriously twisted in the head. Just like that girl... whatshername, the one in Switzerland. She called herself a homicidal maniac... she seemed proud of it."

"Amy was pretty unstable, I'll grant you. But no more so than I am. If I wasn't under threat of death AND promise of reward right now... well... you won't need your legs, will you? And you can lose a couple pints of blood for me, couldn't you? You'd never miss it. And you don't really, really need TWO eyes, right? I mean come on... Asmodeus is probably going to kill you anyway... what does it matter if you're a little under the weather... he's just going to dump your carcass in the pit anyway."

Ysak couldn't think of a reply to that. He just renewed his struggles... he had to get out of this situation before it got any worse. He struggled until Cray sighed in annoyance and tightened his grip, bending Ysak like a twig between his arms. His spine groaned under the stress of being bent in the wrong diretion and his breath seemed to flee his lungs faster than he could draw it in. It didn't so much hurt as ache... an ever welling ache that kept getting stronger and stronger until it felt like his body was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. Just when he thought he was going to start screaming the pressure eased away. In minute fractions... but it was amazing how much relief even a little was. "You're tougher than I gave you credit for." Cray muttered, sounding somewhat surprised. "But try to keep as still as possible... it's for your own benefit... next time I might not be able to stop myself from breaking you in half... death threat or no death threat. You see, I'm not always in full control of myself... I'm ruled by impulse more than mind... I really want to kill you. You're a Coordinator... the enemy, the people I exist to kill. Nothing would make me happier than stnapping your spine, tearing out your throat and feasting on your still beating heart as you watched. Don't give me any opportunities. Ah, here we are." Cray advised.

He stopped and looked tenatively at the doors leading to the waste pit chamber. He wasn't superstitious or anything... how could he exist if there was God, after all? But he still felt something... mixed reverence and fear. A lot of his predecessors had taken a one way trip through this door... and he himself eventually would too, if he ever was crippled or killed or rendered obsolete. He steeled himself...today was not his day to die. It was the day of death for the flesh sack in his arms. That would be good... it'd been too long since he killed something or even saw something killed... he hadn't realized how much he'd needed to end a life until right then. It wasn't nearly as bad for him as it was for Frost... he wasn't drooling... he didn't think anyway. But it was a growing thirst... he wasn't a man lost in the desert yet, but he was getting there.

Ysak blinked as they traveled through the dark tunnel and into the reasonably well lit room. It was larger than he'd expected... it really was just a big cave, a cavity in the mountain about forty meters across and ten meters tall. More than three fourths of the floor area was just a big pit, which descended out of sight into the darkness below. Above this pit was suspended a metal mesh catwalk in the shape of a "Y", obviously placed so people could carry waste or trash out into the middle of the pit to dump so containers or whatever would not burst on the way down by hitting the pit walls. The lights in the room were just big mounted spotlights, maybe taken from a scout jeep or something of the sort. They were arranged so much of the room and the pit were in shadow, as were the two far ends of the "Y" catwalk. Most of the catwalk was lit up bright as day and standing right at the junction of the three legs was a man in a Earth forces uniform of unusual make... all dark reds and blacks and greys, unlike the usual white. The uniform contrasted sharpely with his prematurely grey hair and salt and pepper moustache... the man looked sixty or more though he probably was only in his late forties. His posture was ramrod stiff yet also loose and ready for action. His was like a cocked gun... ready to go off at any moment but able to maintain a degree of stillness that was quite shocking. A large pistol holster was belted at his left hip. Ysak met the man's freezing gaze almost the moment he entered the room... the hate in those eyes was startling.

Ysak knew a lot about hate... he seriously disliked a lot of people. A lot of people seriously disliked him, for various reasons. But he'd never been looked at with so much personal animosity... Ysak wondered what he'd done to piss this man off so much... he couldn't recall any sort of connection between himself and the Intelligence Director of Blue Cosmos. Ysak only really knew of this man because Alkire and the other TEMPEST people knew of him and had toldhim about him. Apparently this guy... Captain Asmodeus Sark... was supposed to have been a real hotshot in EFSOU... Alkire's old unit... back during the time before the previous war and during the previous war. He was supposed to be a real genius with gathering intelligence on targets, making sound plans, and executing perfect missions, no matter what.

He was so good he'd been given permission by the EA high command to create his own autonmous unit of Special Forces troops, the Hellhounds, named after his own nickname. Only the best soldiers the EA had to offer were even considered for joining the Hellhounds... they were the equivalent of the ZAFT red elites and maybe even FAITH members... they could act as they saw fit in battlefield conditions without recourse to the commander at the scene. They were only accountable to Asmodeus and the EFSOU directors. And apprently they were also loyal to Cervantes Zunnichi and Blue Cosmos as well... Ysak strongly suspected that it was a unit or units of Hellhounds that had captured them in the chapel. Certainly the natural who'd tossed him to the ground was one of them... Ysak hadn't been so easily thrown in his entire life... even when he'd been holding himself back against Katie and Chanel. It was people like that guy who always served to remind him that Naturals weren't quite as inferior as a lot of Coordinators and even Naturals themselves thought.

"Ysak Jule. I am Captain Asmodeus Sark. The Hellhound of EFSOU and Intelligence Director for Blue Cosmos. Do you know why we are meeting here, in this place?" Asmodeus asked. His lips quirked slightly at seeing a Coordinator held so helplessly by Cray... he looked like a long suffering older brother carrying a young sibling home from a long day of play.

"I haven't a freaking clue. Now put me down, you bastard piece of shit." Ysak growled.

"Put him down, Cray. And then kindly come over here and join me." Asmodeus ordered, drawing his pistol. It was a custom made firearm, built for his hand alone. It fired a full sized assault rifle cartridge and had a magazine of twelve shots, making it more like a carbine than a pistol. A bulky and well used laser sight was mounted on top, and a large silencer was permanently attached to the muzzle. All in all the gun was nearly a foot long and weighed a good twelve pounds... the exercises he needed to do in order to heft it were a large part of what kept him fit these days. It was getting to the point where he was actually starting to feel it's weight when he held it for an extended time... a sure sign of his age. But his hand was as steady as always... the little blue laser dot did not waver even slightly as he centered it on Ysak's head. The Coordinator was about eight meters away... too far for most people to go for a pistol headshot, even with a laser sight. But Asmodeus knew he could do it... he'd made harder shots for years. "Do not move... if you try to rush me, you will die before you reach me." Asmodeus advised Ysak.

"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?" Ysak retorted, rubbing feeling back into his limbs after being dropped by Cray... he noted that Asmodeus's aim had not left his head even when he'd been dropped... this man was an excellent shot, it was plain. He could almost certainly kill Ysak before he managed to cover the distance between them. Not saying he wouldn't make a go for it anyway if the circumstances demanded it... but things didn't look good. This guy was no idiot... he knew how fast Coordinators were. Cray scuttled over to Asmodeus, careful not to block the line of fire. Ysak shuddered slightly... whenever the tall and lanky BCPU moved he reminded him again of a humanoid spider.

"That remains to be seen." Asmodeus replied coldly. He waited for Cray to come abreast of him before drawing a regulation pistol out from behind his back and handing it butt first to the BCPU.

"What's this... you're actually giving me a gun?" Cray asked, incredulous... he hadn't been handed a gun willingly in... since he was a BCPU four. Usually people nowadays went out of their way to make sure he didn't get a gun. Cause he tended to use it on people as quickly as possible. He liked guns... liked the sound they made, the feel of the recoil, the flash of light... and he especially liked the bloody holes they put in people.

"There is only one bullet loaded. I'm not stupid. The gun is for a very specific purpose... one I'm sure you'll probably enjoy anyway." Asmodeus replied.

"What is that?" Cray asked. Asmodeus beckoned for him to lean down so he could whisper without Ysak hearing. He only whispered a few sentences, but Ysak watched Cray's face light up with pleasure and his heart plummeted to his toes... anything that could make a madman killer happy was not a good thing for him. "That's awesome! You were right, sir, I do like it. I'll do it... and I'll even follow your plan, it's so wonderful. Thank you sir. Thank you for letting me do this. I'll never forget this... why, when it comes time for you to die, I'll make it quick even."

"I suppose that's about as good as I can hope for, hm?" Asmodeus replied in a bored voice. "Now get into position... I'm on a timetable and I need to bring this to its conclusion." Cray clumsily saluted with the gun hand and bounded off down the left fork of the "Y", disappearing into the pool of shadow at the end. Asmodeus proceeded at a more measured pace... keeping Ysak's head fully in his sights at all times. Ysak cautiously moved forward one step for every backstep Asmodeus took... by the time the Hellhound was at the end of the right fork, half hidden in shadow, Ysak was at the junction of the three forks. "That's far enough, Ysak Jule. Do not move a single muscle. You and I need to talk and I need you to be completely honest with me." Asmodeus called out, reaching down and grabbing a handful of Katie's hair. The girl was secured to the metal deck next to him, hidden from easy view in the shadows and gagged so she could not call out a warning to her precious Coordinator. Her sister was similarly secured on the left fork, with Cray standing by for the order.

"All right... talk. I'll do what you say for now... but if you think I'm afraid of dying... you're wrong. I think I can get to you before you hit me with that clunker of a gun. I just want to hear what an old stogy like you wants to say first." Ysak replied with a superior smirk.

"I never thought you were afraid of death... youths these days never are." Asmodeus replied. "In Switzerland, at the Zunnichi family estate... you were ambushed by Blue Cosmos on the grounds during a costume party?"

"Yes... they got more than they asked for though, since not only was I armed but so were Chanel and Katie... they're also captives here, I'm surprised you haven't talked to them."

"Maybe I have." Asmodeus countered, moving so that Katie was almost fully obscured from view... the Coordinator hadn't sighted his love birds yet and he didn't want him to until the proper moment. "Anyway... one of the Blue Cosmos soldiers was my son, Ray Sark. He was killed in the gunfight... shot through the head. Held down and shot through the head if the forensics team reconstructed it right. Did you shoot my son?"

"If I did?" Ysak challenged.

"I asked you if you SHOT MY SON! I'd appreciate a reply." Asmodeus said flatly, fingers tightening both on his gun and in Katie's hair, pulling her head back painfully. She was looking with wide eyes at Ysak, a very concerned expression on her face... well that was too. She was in a very dire situation... her very life was dependent on a choice not her own, one that she would be utterly unable to influence.

"I don't remember." Ysak answered. "I killed a few people that night... after they attacked me and my friends. I don't remember... I was trained to always shoot for the head at close range."

"Think harder... it would have been after the grunts were killed, but before you engaged Amy and Frost."

Ysak suddenly pursed his lips... he remembered now... He'd been half garrotted by the Amy girl and there had been a gunshot... Chanel had pulled her gun away from a Blue Cosmos man on the ground for a moment and he'd tried to pull a weapon, so she'd planted one right through his head, single tap death. "What exactly are you planning to do to the person who killed your son?"

"I thought you weren't afraid of death?" Asmodeus taunted in reply.

Ysak was in a quandry. He knew he hadn't killed this guy's son... Chanel had done the deed. But if he admitted to that, this guy would kill her... he'd as much as said it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he caused Chanel to be killed... Katie and everyone else would never forgive him... more importantly, he would never forgive himself. On the other hand, if he claimed to have killed Asmodeus's son, he was probably going to get shot in the head right here and now... and that wouldn't make many people happy either. Certainly not him.

Katie was trying to stare around Asmodeus's leg... trying to move so Ysak could see her or make some noise or something, so that he knew they were there. She wasn't exactly sure why Asmodeus had brought them here, since apparently he thought Ysak had killed his son, not Chanel. She had a very bad feeling about this though. She couldn't move at all with her wrists chained together, chained to her belt and then chained to the metal walkway. And Asmodeus was right in front of her, gun almost pointing in her direction, pulling hard enough on her hair to make her want to cry, holding her head up and back so her neck was bared almost towards the ceiling. The gag tasted rank in her mouth and her hands were numb from lack of circulation, as were her legs from her sitting on them for nearly ten minutes now. She wished she had some way of warning Ysak... she tried to drown out all the physical sensations she was feeling, tried to go for her inner balance... it was hard for her, she hadn't spent nearly as much time practicing with her mind like Chanel had. But Ysak was still dithering when she managed to put herself into a sort of trance. It was ugly, shoddy work... but it was enough to get her into dreamland. She wondered if Asmodeus would notice her body going slack... hopefully he'd just think she had fainted or something.

_Took you long enough._ Chanel said the moment she saw her sister. She had appeared much where she was in the real world... the dream world was a replica of the room they were actually in. The dream wasn't very high detail, unlie the beach meeting point. There was no pit in the floor, just a big black spot, and the colors were mostly washed out of everything. But it was enough for them to converse and that was all that was important.

_I'm sorry... I was a bit busy having my hair half yanked off my head while being forced to kneel in perhaps the most uncomfortable position ever._ Katie retorted. Chanel's image turned to her and Katie shivered... her sister's eyes were brimming with tears but more fiery with anger than she'd ever seen before... normally she was the one who got royally pissed and Chanel who urged calm... now she was the one looking askance at her sister not vice versa. _What did I miss?_

_Don't you complain to me about your hair... I've got the crazy tall guy holding me hostage... and I can assure you, he's doing quite a bit more than just holding me. If I can ignore that you can ignore a little pain._ Chanel informed Katie. _I've been trying to beepcall Ysak... but the Stump barrier is just too hard for me to break given the cirumstances... if he was asleep I might be able to do it... but if that were the case he'd hardly be in a position to do much either, would he?_

_Well, what do you want me to do about it?_

_I don't KNOW! I'm nearly out of ideas... and I'm getting a real bad feeling about this. Ysak will never admit to me shooting Asmodeus's son... not after Asmodeus practically admitted to planning to kill the person who did it. I need to figure out some way to tell him we're here... I think we're going to be used as hostages so Ysak doesn't try to fight back._

_I don't know... I think it might be worse than that. _Katie replied, forcing herself to be analytical. _Asmodeus isn't just your average revenge oriented bastard... he's got something bigger planned than just shooting Ysak in the head, an eye for an eye. Don't ask me how I know... I can't even sense the man, much less get a feel for him... but there is something in his voice and posture that suggest to me that he's got something worse planned._ Katie ran through the mental mantra that brought her sensing ability to the front of her mind... she didn't see people as sparks like Chanel did, she saw them as colored cartoon animals. Ysak was the silver eagle over there... Chanel was a green housecat... Asmodeus wasn't anywhere to be seen... and the guy standing behind Chanel... Katie flinched away from the image. It wasn't any beast she knew of... a swirling black and white conglomerate of several things, all fangs and claws and crude stitch marks. She didn't want to know what the person who's mind looked like that was like. _Christ... what sort of person is that guy?_

_He's insane... very homicidal and twisted to his core. It's hard to ignore him when he's so close to me... he kills for fun and pleasure... the cries of his victims feel like they're leaking off his hands and onto my body. It's... it's terrible._ Chanel replied with more than a shiver... she wanted the man to stop touching her, to go away... preferrably by falling into the pit and cracking open his head on the bottom. She could feel his spark burning right on top of her... it felt like she was wilting in the heat. He was easy to read... he almost projected his thoughts, no mental barriers to speak of... he was either the most receptive Latent she'd ever seen or something else... not an Active though. If he was Active he'd already have been in the trance with them... which would have turned it from a dream to a nightmare. He was a seriously messed up person, this Craydon Thresher. _But that's not the issue here... Ysak's in trouble... he needs help. And we're the only ones who can help him. I need your help... I'm going to try to beepcall him again... I need you to try as well... maybe with both of use trying one of us can slip through. And if that fails and cirumstances get as bad as we're both fearing... well, I know of something else we can try. Hopefully it won't come to that._

_Come to what?_

_You don't want to know. Now get calling._

_--------------------------------_

Ysak was still weighing his options. He sure had the raw end of the deal here... damned if he did, doubly damned if he didn't. He steeled himself... there really wasn't an option. He'd sooner get his own head blown off than condemn Chanel to the same... a thousand times sooner, really. "Yes, I killed your son. Shot him right in the head when he tried to pull a gun on me rather than surrender... he tried to kill me and my friends and I stopped him. Happy?"

"Not yet." Asmodeus replied. Something didn't ring true here... from his files, Ysak Jule wasn't the sort who'd even think twice about shooting a Natural who threatened him with a gun. Yet there had been that long pause... almost as if he was debating which truth to tell. There was more to his son's death... Asmodeus was sure of it. He knew just the way to jog Ysak's memory too... abject terror and love were a potent mix after all. "I don't believe you yet. And don't worry about me killing you... I don't plan to, unless you try to come over here."

"How can I be sure you're not lying?" Ysak asked.

"I swear I'm not... unlike Mr. Zunnichi, I'm a soldier like you... my word means something to me. Tell me again... did you kill my son? No lies... I won't kill you... you have my word."

"Yes, I killed your son." Ysak retorted... he couldn't exactly change his story now that he was committed. His head suddenly buzzed a little bit... it sounded like a very distant alarm clock had gone off for just a second. He blinked the distraction away... he could not afford anything less than total focus right now... a single slip could end up with him dead... or worse, Chanel dead.

"Very well... I will not kill you, like I promised. However, you don't get away scot free... you tore a hole in my heart with that shot... a hole that can never be filled again. I'm not a sadistic man by nature... I much believe in equal retaliation for equal hurt. If I have to live with my son dead... it is only fitting that you should go on living with the same pain as well."

"What? I don't understand... I don't have a son..." Ysak trailed off, blinking away a slightly louder buzzing noise, half raising his hand to bat away the gnat or whatever it was.

"Fortunately... or not... for you, you don't need one. And you'll still have the chance to create one, assuming your genes let you, after I'm done here. You see, it's come to my attention that you have a rather close personal bond with two rather pretty young girls, who also happen to be languishing in our care." Asmodeus casually thumbed the control he held in the hand entangled in Katie's hair... flipping on the lights that had formerly been off, stripping away the shadows that had cloaked the ends of the forks, revealing Katie kneeling next to Asmodeus, hands bound close to the floor, head tilted painfully back, his pistol muzzle pressed flat into the side of her head. On the other fork Chanel was similalr chained down, with Cray standing over her, gun pressed hard into the top of her head, which lolled limply atop her neck as Cray ran his free hand over as much of her available flesh as he could... which was nearly all of it, given how long his arm was. For a second Ysak thought they were both dead, given how limp they both seemed... but then he noticed their deep steady breathing. They were just unconscious. Both were gagged as well, which went a ways towards explaining why they hadn't alerted him to their presence.

"You would not dare..." Ysak snarled. Asmodeus stared him back down, as calm and assured as a man who has all the power can be.

"I would dare anything... my legacy... my heir... my son... he's dead. Killed by your hand. My heart died when he did... the world is almost meaningless now, to me. This war... Blue Cosmos... my friends and colleauges... all of them are just shades now, without Ray. It's strange, since we were never close... but he was my SON! He was me... he was all I had... and you stripped him from me. You did... by your own admission. None other than you. And I'm going to make you pay for it yourself. It's too bad your girlfriends fainted... I wanted them to hear what you had to say. I wanted them to hear you make your choice. You see, I'm no monster...I'm not going to take both your loves from you... my son's single life is not worth the lives of two people. But they're twins, you see... I just couldn't make up my mind who to kill. Katie here..." Asmodeus nudged her head with his gun. "... or sweet Chanel, lavishing in Cray's arms over there? Which? Then I hit on it... you can choose, Ysak. Choose who lives and who dies. It's really not all that different from what you did to Ray... you chose to pull the trigger, chose to aim for the head. Now you can chose which head too... isn't that wonderful? And then afterwards you can explain to the surviving sister why her twin had to die. No doubt that will be an interesting conversation." Asmodeus gave Ysak his most wintery smile. "So... who's it going to be?"

"You wouldn't... I can't... I can't make that sort of decision!" Ysak yelled back frantically. "I can't just chose one!" He didn't even feel the buzzing this time, thought it was like a frantic toothache in the back of his mind. His thoughts were shooting off like flares in the night... they'd briefly illuminate his mind but not enough for him to make his way to a good answer. "You bastard... I CAN'T CHOOSE ONE!"

"Then I'll kill them both... maybe going a bit overboard... but I'll offer you a consolation prize... I'll let you shoot me in the head if you end up forcing me to kill them both. That way we'll be even." Asmodeus promised.

"I'm not forcing you to do anything! You can just let them go. You can shoot me... please shoot me... just don't hurt them!" Ysak begged, finding himself suddenly on his knees, feeling nauseated.

"No... I'm not letting you off easy, Ysak. Now CHOOSE WHO LIVES AND WHO DIES! It wasn't that hard for you to do it to my son... why can't you make a snap decision now, Coordinator?" Asmodeus said, baring his teeth in anger and hate. He hadn't been so worked up about anything in a very long time... not in years and years. He pushed the gun muzzle harder than strictly necessary against Katie's cheek... working out a little of his pain beforehand, even if she wasn't the target... yet. He was perfectly serious about his punishment... he would kill who Ysak chose and that would be the end of it. An eye for an eye... a heart for a heart... a head for a head... a son for a girlfriend... equality was the only way to do business.

"Don't... please... I'm begging you not to kill either of them. They haven't done anything to you... I'm the guy who killed your son... why can't you take it out on me?" Ysak pleaded, tears falling from his eyes. "I can't make that choice. I can't. I love them both. Both equally. I LOVE THEM BOTH!"

"I am taking this out on you... you can feel the pain, can't you? And let us not forget... you have a third option... if you fail to choose within the next five minutes... both die... and you get to kill me." Asmodeus hissed.

"Five minutes! You bastrard monster! I can't chose in five minutes. God damn, I CAN'T MAKE THAT **CHOICE!**".

"Then it'll be a long five minutes... for you. You may as well start mourning right now, if you really cannot choose. And looking up a few old girlfriends might be a good idea... you'll need a replacement... assuming you ever leave this base alive... which considering who the Doc is... isn't likely."

Everything was starting to get a bit blurry for Ysak... he hadn't cried this much in his life, not even when he'd gotten his face torn open. But it was more than that... the world was starting to recede somehow. His pain... his fear, his anger and hatred and everything he was feeling right then... everything was welling up inside him and overwhelming him. He felt like he was drowning in his own mind... could almost feel the water closing in around him. It was odd... almost like he was dreaming. Aqua blue seemed to be surrounding him... he actually felt wet... his lungs were hurting with the effort of crying and shouting at Asmodeus for mercy he obviously did not have. His eyes suddenly burst open, flooding his perceptions with nonspecific light that seemed to come from everywhere. He looked around... there were no sounds... no smells... he couldn't see Asmodeus or Cray or Chanel or Katie... he couldn't even see the room he was in. He seemed to be floating in the... ocean. A tropical ocean somewhere... there was no land in sight. He twisted around... it was strange, he couldn't feel himself treading water, yet he obviously wasn't sinking. Had he passed out or something... was this a dream? Or maybe he'd just been pushed over the edge by trying to force himself to think of a solution to the problem... 'cause he could swear he was looking at a sandy beach on some tropic island somewhere... a deserted beach. He was only a few yards off shore... he actually found that the water was now only waist deep... he could have sworn he'd been forced to swim up out of it... he felt dazed and confused... what was going on?

_What the FUCK is going on!_ Ysak cried, immediately clapping his hands to his head afterwards... it wasn't that he'd shouted too loudly... it was that he hadn't felt his mouth move... and yet he'd heard himself cry out in such anguish... more emotion than he'd actually intended to express. Much more. It was like his innermost feelings had been released all at once when he tried to speak, only to build back up to the breaking point when he stopped speaking. _Where am I?_

_In trance._ Ysak heard a familiar voice say softly and wearily from behind him. He turned, not realizing that he was now standing on the beach until he staggered backward and fell ass first onto the sand. Chanel was standing right behind him, naked as the day she was born. He glanced down at himself... he was still clothed... though he was dressed in his elite uniform, not the tux he knew he was wearing. As he watched his uniform seemed to shimmer and move, like a heat haze.

_What's going on? What is this? Where is this? _The questions seemed to spill forth straight from the pits of his mind... still oddly without sound but perfectly comprehensible. _Why am I in uniform... and why the hell are you naked?_

_There is no time to explain, dear Ysak. We have only minutes remaining before Asmodeus carries out his ultimatum. Katie and I have been trying to contact you for quite some time now... since you first set foot into the room. Our efforts were in vain though... you're a Stump... beepcalling doesn't work on you. I was forced to take drastic measures to contact you... measures the consequences of which must be faced._ Chanel walked past him, over to a wooden lounge chair which had appeared from nowhere. Chanel plucked a straw sun hat from thin air and carefully placed it on her head. She sat down on the chair, which elongated into a bench. She patted the bench next to her. _Come... we have even less time than Asmodeus has granted us... Katie will be with us shortly, as soon as she calms herself... I can't keep you here for long... the strain is... well, it's the most difficult thing I've ever done, let me say._

_I don't understand. What is going on... I thought you were unconscious... and Katie too. I thought you were chained to the decking on the far side of the room, with a gun pressed to your head. How can you be here... wherever this is?_ Ysak asked, ignoring the soundless talking oddity for now.

_I am unconscious, as is Katie. We're... asleep, you could say. So are you... this is a dream._

_I'm dreaming? This isn't real? Why can't I wake up... I need to wake up so I can try to save you!_

_It's not that sort of dream._ Katie appeared, walking right out of the water, yet not touched by it. She was nude as well. Ysak had to force himself to look away... he disliked it when they walked around in the nude, totally unconcerned for who saw them. People... did not do that on the PLANTS. Katie sat down on the other side of Ysak. Both girls rested their heads on his shoulders... Chanel's sunhat cut right through him without hitting him or hurting him... he tried not to look at it. Without thinking about it he put his arms around them. _I don't know how to explain to you what this is... I'm not sure even Chanel knows exactly. We call this trance._

_If I had to say where we were... we'd be in my mind somewhere. In my dream._ Chanel added. _Of course you're not physically here... you're lying on the catwalk... just like Katie and I haven't left our positions either. I suppose you might want to think of this like a tele-conference... but without cameras and projectors. Its not at all accurate, but you've been resistant to hearing the details in the past and we don't have time now._

_We're in a bad spot, Ysak. A very bad spot... I can't see a way out of this that ends in happiness for us._ Katie whispered plainitively.

_Neither can I... I can see only one solution...and it's not one you or Katie will be happy with._ Chanel said sadly.

_What? I don't understand anything... I'm so dizzy... I feel sick. And tired... really tired._ Ysak complained, trying to stifle a yawn.

_We're reaching your time limit then, my love. I'm sorry I couldn't hold you here to talk longer... it's just too much stress on your mind. It's time for you to go back._ Chanel told him. She started to stand. Ysak grabbed her around the waist and pulled her forcibly back down.

_Nobody is going anywhere. Least of all me. Not until I'm sure you are both safe. What is this solution you thought of?_ Ysak asked. Chanel stared at him for a long moment, tears starting to trickle out of her eyes. She looked over at Katie, who was crying also.

_So that's what you meant. You knew what pulling him into trance would do to you. God damn it, Chanel... why do you have to be so nice? Why couldn't you be selfish for once? Why... why did you do something so incredibly stupid?_

_WHAT... IS... GOING... ON?_ Ysak demanded, yawning between each word.

_You aren't supposed to be here... Stumps are mentally inert in the parts of the brain we're using. Chanel... Chanel is doing something very complicated to your mind... temporary rearranging some neuron paths... thats why you're here. But the stress of doing so is eroding her mind... if you use any muscle too much it will tear and bleed and eventually die. Chanel's muscle is her mind... and it's tearing and bleeding. So is yours... thats why you're getting tired... your brain is trying to shut down to preserve your life._ Katie told him.

_Send me back right now. I can't stand either of you being in pain. I'll think of something... I'll..._

_You'll accept my final wish and do as I say, love._ Chanel interrupted him. _I'm dying already... the feedback shock of bringing you into the trance in the first place burst blood vessels in my skull... I'll die from a brain hemorrage if nothing else. Keeping you here is just hastening the process. But I think I'll be a little selfish... this is the last time I'll ever get to see you._

_NO... NO... this isn't happening... this is a dream... I'm going to wake up and this isn't going to be HAPPENING!_

_Shhh... yelling won't change anything. I'm very sorry Ysak... I wish we could have told you sooner... I wish... a lot of things. I wish I could have married you... could have been with you... could have loved you for a longer time. I know this is sudden... we tried to explain but it was hard for you to listen before... I can understand... I didn't want to believe it either when I first learned. But facts are... facts. I'm grateful beyond what you'll ever know for the happiness you did give me... you made my life worthwhile. Now... you need to let my end be worthwhile too... you need to choose me... I'm the one who killed him anyway._ Chanel's image flicked and returned a moment later, looking far more weary._ Katie..._

_You don't need to say anything, sister. I know... I hate it... but I know. I... _Katie stopped talking. There was really nothing to say... what could one half of a pair of twins so close they could literally share thoughts have to say to the other half at a time like this? Everything that she felt Chanel felt as well... and vice versa. There was perfect understanding between them... Katie didn't like it... but she understood. Her feet had been placed upon this path ot of her free will... but now she had no choice but to follow it.

_But... but I love... you. Both of you. How am... I... supposed... to...? _Ysak asked. Back in the waste pit room Asmodeus looked impatiently at his watch... less than a minute to go.

"Made up your mind yet, Ysak? You haven't got much time left, boy." he called.

"Hey... sir... Asmodeus?" Cray shouted excitedly.

"WHAT?"

"This one's going all limp and shit... she's bleeding out the nose too."

"I told you not to touch her... females are fragile... if she's not the one he chooses I'm going to have words with the Doc about you!"

"I didn't... okay, so I did touch her. But I didn't hurt her... she's bleeding a lot. Enough to... make... me... I'm losing it over here, sir! I need to kill her... I need the blood!"

"Damn it, Cray... if you so much as scratch her without my permission I'll see you dismembered slowly and tossed in a latrine!"

"As-Asmodeus!" Ysak called. He cranked his head up... his eyes were glassy and blood was pouring out of his nose too. "I... I-I... I choose... god may they all forgive me, but I choose Chanel!"

_There... I did it. I hope everyone forgives me... no... NO I DON'T! I HOPE THEY HATE AND REVILE ME FOR THIS! I DON'T WANT TO BE FORGIVEN FOR THIS! I... I killed you. It's as if I pulled the trigger myself._

_Don't be stupid. It's Asmodeus who killed me... and Cray's the one who pulled the trigger. They're the ones you should be angry at... they're the ones you should hate. Certainly not yourself. Promise me... promise me you'll let me go... that you'll bury me... that you'll love Katie with everything you'd saved for me in your wonderful big heart, Ysak. Promise me you'll avenge my death. Promise me you'll do everything you can to stop this terrible senseless war... so more tragedies like this aren't necessary. Please._

_Of course. I'll do anything you want. I promise. I PROMISE. _Ysak pulled Chanel's image or whatever it was that existed in the dream world close... closer than he'd ever permitted himself to hold her in real life. Their lips met for the briefest of moments... during which Ysak could swear he really was in her head... he heard with her ears, saw with her eyes. He was looking up at Cray, with streaks of red patterning his vision everywhere. He saw Cray as a person and as a black and white flashing spark, spiralling out of control. He saw Katie as a blue spark, pulsing with grief. He saw himself, lying on the ground, superimposed over a yellow-flickering spark that seemed to be absorbing the blood from Chanel's vision... slowly turning a deeper and deeper red. He saw Asmodeus... a man with no spark.

He heard Asmodeus say the awful words. "Shoot her." He heard the hammer on the pistol go back. He looked up into the barrel and felt Chanel smile beautifically through the gag... she had won... she had saved the people she cared about most... she had no regrets besides that she couldn't have spared them the pain in the first place... though that was impossible. He heard the gunshot... and felt the impact inside his own head. His own eyes jerked open and he found himself lying facedown on the metal deck... watching his own blood drip from his face and fall slowly into the depths below through the metal decking. He didn't want to look up... he didn't want to see what he knew he would see. He forced himself to... to look away would be to insult her memory and her sacrifice. He would never do that.

He looked up and over... past Asmodeus who was bent over Katie, releasing her from her restraints with surprising gentleness. He looked over towards Cray... the spider limbed madman was capering about in delight, splashed with crimson which he was contentedly sucking off his fingers. At his feet lay a limp form... blond hair sticky with red, face calm and beautiful except for the gag on her mouth and the red hole between her eyes. Ysak felt something snap within him... something he'd always known was there but had never thought of. A seed of some plant appeared inside his head... slowly falling... slowly falling and then bursting on the inside of his skull with the force of a nuclear detonation. He was on his feet and moving without consciously realizing it. It was like back in Switzerland... but a hundred times as intense... back then was just the wading pool... he'd just dived in the deep end... of the ocean.

**"YOU! YOU'RE BOTH DEAD!" **Ysak shouted with all the hate and sorrow and loss and love he felt. Asmodeus's head snapped around and his jaw dropped. Cray stopped in mid dance and looked up with a sick look of enjoyment. Ysak went for Cray first. He was going to kill him... he was going to kill him so hard...


	57. Almost Escaped

Lacus jerked awake, hands pressed to her head, eyes full of tears she hadn't realized she'd shed. She'd been sleeping peacefully... as peacefully as she ever had in this horrible place. Ever since that first interrogation session she'd been left alone... whether because they hadn't got around to seeing her individually or because of Ashino's intervention, she wasn't sure. It had been hours and hours... it felt like days but probably wasn't. They'd given her a few meals... she'd forced herself to eat the slush so she wouldn't be weakned by hunger. She'd done a lot of thinking and a bit more singing... they hadn't stopped her this time. She'd even cried a bit, though she hadn't let herself be depressed long... defeatism would only serve the enemy, not her. And she'd gone to sleep... she'd been having a nice dream too... one with lots of Kira in it.

It had almost been like he'd been in the room with her... close enough to touch and smell. And then the dream had come to an end with the sound of a single gunshot that seemed to fill the entire world. An ocean of grief and sorrow and loss poured out of nowhere and crashed into her, sweeping her away. And then she'd awoken... hair mussed, clothing wrinkled, eyes full of tears and one of the most terrible headaches she'd ever had. Her entire head was ringing with the sound of the gunshot... it was like someone was playing an echo at maximum volume right next to her ears. Something had happened... something horrible, she knew it. Somebody had died. Sombody she knew. But who? And how did she know with such certainty? She couldn't answer those questions... no matter how much she thought about it.

Kira jumped in his bed as if electrified, rolling right off the tiny cot and slamming hard into the concrete floor. His cell was bare of filth but it had a very musty atmosphere... dust seemed to fall from the ceiling like snow, making it very difficult to breathe evenly without coughing. The burn blisters on his hands popped painfully and oozed fluid onto the floor. He swore and bit his lip to keep from crying out... both from the pain of the burns and because of the apparent bomb that had just gone off inside his head. Of the two, the headache was by far the worst... Terrible Tim had failed to live up to his reputation... he'd spent most of the session waving the soldering iron around and making threats, which Kira and Athrun calmly ignored. Apparently the man could not work up the courage to actually use the iron on them if they weren't afraid of him.

It was only at the very end, almost incandescant with shame and anger, that Tim had run the tip of the iron across the backs of Kira's hands. It had hurt a great deal... but he'd suffered worse wounds than a few second degree burns before... they were painful and the blisters awkward, but he could work his way around them. It wasn't so easy to forget the pain in his head... he felt like Flay had just died again... to wit, terrible. His dream had actually been kind of pleasant before waking up... Lacus had featured prominently, he recalled. So vivid... it was like she was in the same room, close enough to touch and smell. He slowly got up and climber back onto the cot and tried to figure out what had happened. He had the most horrible feeling... a twisting in his gut. He felt physically ill... what was happening to him? Had he been poisoned... no that wouldn't make any sense when they could hurt him or kill him whenever they wanted. Something beyond his normal five senses was screaming at him, trying to tell him something. He still hadn't figured it out by the time he heard the commotion in the hall.

-----------------------------

Cray smiled happily... he'd gotten to kill the girl after all. What a pleasant diversion to kick off an even better day killing Coordinator's at the front. He licked her sweet blood off his finger and paused in his capering to reach for more. It had been a little weird... she'd looked him right in the eye and he could have sworn she smiled at him while he pulled the trigger... no one he'd ever killed had smiled at him while he killed them. They generally screamed and struggled and even fainted. But she'd just looked at him with oddly red eyes and he'd pulled the trigger and the bullet had gone "bang" and "splotch" her brains were all over the floor. He was still reaching down for more of the wonderful red liquid when he heard an incoherent scream of rage come from across the room. Cray was familiar with all sorts of horrible noises... death shrieks, Frost's laughter, bone snaps, mortal blows, fatal equipment fractures, the Doc yelling... and he rated this exclamaition as positively "bonechilling".

It literally sent shivers of tension running up and down his arms and spine... raising goosebumps on his skin. He smiled even wider... it had been a long while since anything had so much of an effect on him... discounting Asmodeus's eyes. Cray looked up to find the Coordinator... Ysak... running towards him, intent to kill stamped plainly all over his face. Cray was happy to oblige him... he pointed the gun directly at him... with a closing target that wasn't bothering to evade there was no way he could miss. He aimed for the kneecap... he didn't want to kill him just yet. The gun went... "click". A sudden thought suddenly entered his mind... hadn't Asmodeus said there was only one bullet? "Click is the wrong answer." Cray told the gun. He pulled the trigger thrice more. Click... click... click. "I'm going to kill you after this is over." Cray solemnly promised the firearm.

Ysak ignored the gun pointed at him... in his current state of mind he would have charged the GENESIS Laser if it had been aimed at him, bare fisted and unarmed or not. Even if he had to swim through space to do it. He had never felt so focused and unstoppable. He knew precisely what he was going to do... the actions of Cray were irrelevant. The gun did not fire... perhaps jammed. Ysak smiled thinly and went into a sliding tackle which knocked the thin limbed BCPU off balance. Ysak had to give the guy credit... he was almost as strong as hell, almost as tough as hell and almost as fast as hell. The problem was that Ysak currently WAS HELL. He bounced up from his tackle while Cray was still staggering and kicked him in the kneecap as hard as he could... unfortunately not hard enough to break the reinforced joint, but he did knock him down. He punched him thrice in the face, feeling a cheekbone fracture under his knuckles. The BCPU struck him back... Ysak rode the backhand out, turning around with the force of the blow, adding the momentum to the spinning side kick which smashed into Cray's ribcage, popping a rib out of place for a moment before it reseated itself. Cray was knocked sideways, denting the metal railing of the walkway. Ysak did not let up... he fell upon the murderer of his love like a starving tiger leaping onto a cow carcass.

Cray was laughing... he hadn't been in a fight like this since the last time he'd sparred with Amy. Ysak was everywhere at once, punching, kicking, clawing, kneeing... it was great. He was actually feeling pain, he was bleeding. He tried to sit up and get off the railing but a kick to the jaw slammed him back down, further deforming the thin metal. Cray sneered and wiped his split lip, which was already healing. He saw Asmodeus give him a look from across the catwalk and saw the older man hightail it out of the room like he was being pursued by the devil himself. Cray didn't mind... this wasn't a fight for a natural to be messing around with. He belted Ysak in the gut with a punch, bringing the Coordinator up short and sent him staggering back with a right cross to the point of the chin. Cray stood up, ready to begin his own offensive... a beatdown that would continue until every bone in Ysak's body was soft gelatin.

Ysak recovered far faster than Cray had anticipated... the Coordinator just turned the backwards stagger into a forward charge without seeming to transition between them. Cray frowned just before Ysak's double foot jumping kick sent him literally flying backward, knocking the railing full off the catwalk and leaving him teetering for balance, a skull like grimace plastered on his face. This wasn't right... the only person Cray had ever seen fight like this was Frost... there was no way a Coordinator could fight like this. He was just a Coordinator after all... just a sack of flesh and blood. Cray was still arguing with himself about this quandry when Ysak gave him another flying kick to the jaw which overbalanced him just enough to send him tumbling over the edge. Cray made a grab for the catwalk but Ysak stamped down on the hand and broke his fingers, kicking his grip loose before he could recover. Cray dropped into the waste pit, laughing in fright.

Ysak looked around, thirst for revenge not even barely slaked. Asmodeus was nowhere in sight... he could hear Katie slowly waking up not far away. He forced himself to calm down...slightly. He wasn't looking to kill the next person he saw... now he was looking to make sure no one hurt Katie, the one remaining person who meant everything to him. He didn't even remember moving over to her... suddenly he was on his knees next to her, holding her tightly in his arms. "I... I'm... I'm so sorry. I... I couldn't... save her."

"Ysak... Ysak... Ysak!" Katie sobbed, burying her head in his chest. "My head feels like it's on fire... the echo is everywhere. Chanel's echo is everywhere!"

"Her what?" Ysak asked, lifting her in his arms.

_**BEEP! **THE ECHO! CAN'T YOU FEEL IT RESOUNDING IN YOUR HEAD? YOU WERE CONNECTED TO HER LIKE I WAS WHEN SHE DIED... CAN'T YOU FEEL HER?_ the voice he heard was Katie's, but it was shouted at such a volume that it caused Ysak to stagger... he staggered again when he realized that despite the topic of the conversation, he couldn't hear any echoes at all... given that they were in a cave, he should have heard lots of them from a exclaimation of such volume. He hadn't heard Katie speak... her thought had appeared in his head, right after a slight flash of light and a feeling like someone had tapped him hard on the side of the head.

"What was that?" Ysak asked, moving towards the exit to the room as fast as he could. It pained him to leave Chanel behind, but there was currently nothing he could do for her remains... to bring them with them would endanger his ability to defend Katie and himself, and that he could not allow to happen.

"You heard my beepcall..." Katie's voice was barely a whisper. "You actually heard it... and I didn't even have to try. How... is that possible?" she asked, her voice wondering.

"Let's not worry about things neither of us understand, my love. We have bigger problems. Asmodeus no doubt has alerted the facility to our actions... they'll be sending people to kill or recapture us. We need to decide what to do." Ysak said, as tenderly as he could.

"There is no decision to make. Chanel put our feet on a path... we've currently got no other option but to follow it... unless we want to die. Or worse, be studied like experiments until we want to die."

"How do you mean?"

"Every Newtype within a dozen miles will have felt Chanel die... I'm sure Lacus and Kira did. It's an off chance, but considering the sort of conditioning these BCPU's no doubt go through, there is a chance that there might be some sort of brainwave scanning and recording equipment in this facility... such equipment would also register Chanel's echo. The likelyhood is very high that Blue Cosmos will realize what I am... what Kira is... what Lacus is... and maybe what you are. If you thought what they'd done to us so far was bad... you don't want to imagine what people like them will do in order to utilize Newtypes. I cannot give you the story now... but later I can explain. We need to escape from this facility... and we need to break everyone else out as well... to do anything else would be to condemn them to a fate a million times worse than what Chanel suffered. We need to get to the prison cells."

"That's not going to be easy." Ysak replied, though he started off in that direction anyway. "There are a lot of guards in that area, lots of cameras, and probably a lot of those automated sentry guns too."

"Guns... guards... cameras... Ysak, these people just murdered my sister. Their guns and guards and cameras mean less than nothing to me. I know you feel the same. You Coordinators are always so tightly controlling of your feelings... you're worried about what will happen if you let yourselves go. Now is not the time for worry, love. It is time for action. You can set me down, too. You can't fight with me in your arms and I cannot do so either." Katie told him.

"But... what if... I don't... I worry about what I'll do if I let myself go. What sort of person I might become... I've done some terrible things in my life, Katie. I've killed people out of hate and vengeance and simple indignation. Helpless people. I'm afraid I might become like that if I don't keep control of myself."

"It is because you are afraid and that you worry that it is okay for you to let go, Ysak. Because you worry and fear you will always bring yourself back from the brink. It is not a bad thing to feel hate... not a bad thing to have killed... not a bad thing to have done the things you have done... the reason it is not bad is because you feel guilt and remorse and fear your actions. It's only when you lose the fear of your actions that you do wrong. Only when guilt means nothing and remorse is a thing of the past is when you do truly evil. Stop worrying about it... let yourself go... you'll be there to pull yourself back from the edge... and I'll be there too, to help you."

"Okay... I don't really understand what you said... but I trust you, Katie. I love you and I trust you and I'll do as you ask. And god help the people who get in my way."

"Our way... our way." Katie corrected him as he set her down on her feet. She looked down the passageway, which was currently empty. "Here come the guards... the first wave. They're scared. Very scared."

"How do you..." Ysak trailed away... he didn't really care. He trusted her instincts... however she derived them. "Not yet they aren't. They don't know the meaning of scared." he promised, ducking back into a small niche in the wall which housed a locked panel that read "Lighting and Electrical". It wasn't easy to tear off the cover and lock, but right now he didn't even think about failing to do so... he felt like he could rip through a vault door with his bare hands. The sound of running boots resounded down the hall as he reached into the mass of circuit breakers and fuses that the panel had covered. He waited a few breaths. "How close are they?" he asked Katie. She did not reply. A soldier ran past their niche just as he spoke, head swiveling rapidly to the side when he heard Ysak speak. The man tried to stop, his boots skidding on the metal floor of the passage.

Katie wasted no time in kicking his legs out from under him, falling on him as he lay stunned and caving in his windpipe with a thrust of her hand. She took his sub machine gun from his unresisting hands and took his knife from his belt, also removing a sphereical grenade from his belt. She tossed the grenade to Ysak, who aborted trying to pull the breakers out by hand and just flipped the pin off the explosive and shoved it deep into the wall. He dived out of the niche and hit the floor next to Katie as the grenade blew, taking down the primary electrical grid on the entire section of this level of the facility. Katie opened up with the sub gun in the dark, aiming down the corridor. It was pitch black, but she didn't really need to see. She just targeted the yellow snakes that represented the minds of the soldiers to her Newtype sense. It was impossible to shoot accurately, since the mind images only approximated the actual physical location of the soldiers, but a sub gun wasn't designed for accuracy anyway... it just vomited forth lots of bullets very quickly.

Emergency red lighting came on within seconds... but it was too late for the inital force of guards, who were all down, wounded or dead. Ysak took the knife from Katie and charged the remains of the force, slicing the throats of those who looked like they might have been able to put up a fight. Katie hurriedly looted the guards for weapons and ammunition while Ysak kept watch. A soldier tried to edge around a turn about five meters away, crouched down low on the floor. Ysak spotted him and took him out by throwing the knife. He knew knife throwing quite well... he'd been good at it during training and his skills had not left him... they might even have improved, given how many objects he'd thrown at Katie and... Chanel... in order to fend them off. He threw harder than he meant to... the knife embedded itself to the hilt in the eye of the soldier. Katie tossed him another knife and handed over two sub guns and several clips of ammunition. She'd appropriated two pistols for herself and had a plentiful supply of grenades as well. She also had slung several extra guns over her shoulders. "For the others." she told him when he looked at them questioningly. They headed off together, moving towards the prison block... Ysak had struggled when carried by Cray, but not so much he hadn't been able to memorize the route he'd been carried along. Katie didn't even need directions... she could sense the location of Kira and Lacus very easily... both were awake and troubled by what they had felt.

Ysak and Katie worked as a team as they fought their way through the slowly organizing guards. Katie would pick off cameras and disable sentry guns with accurate pistol fire or grenade tosses... she was still a better shot than Ysak, despite his efforts. Meanwhile, Ysak would keep the responding guards pinned down with volleys of bullets, until Katie could pull out a few grenades and lob them into the enemy. Whenever the enemy tried to throw grenades back, Ysak just shot them out of the air... not something he would have ordinarily even considered attempting, but in his current state he made it look natural and easy. _If this is how Kira feels when he's in his berserker mode or whatever... no wonder everyone else doesn't have a prayer of standing up to him. Athrun too... this ability is just incredible... its not even hard for me to do this stuff, stuff I usually consider improbable at best._ The hard things were the sentry guns... they were well sited and many featured armor shields that protected their aiming systems and ammo supplies, with only the gun barrels protruding forward to fire. The sentry guns came in two varieties... one and dual barrels, mounted either on the walls or the ceiling.

The rate of fire was incredible... each barrel easily pumped out five or six hundred shots a minute... and the heavy caliber bullets chewed through anything in their path... even the walls after extended firing. Katie wondered sourly just what the guns were designed to stop... such heavy weapons were hardly required to kill humans, even armored humans. Then she thought of people like Cray or Ashino... or Frost. She suddenly found herself agreeing with the decision to mount the heavy weapons... with dangerous people like them around standard guns just wouldn't cut it. It was just inconvenient for her and Ysak... she couldn't sense the guns, so Ysak had to take point, as only his enhanced reflexes were good enough to get him out of the sudden fire from the sentry guns that he would come under upon rounding a corner or going through a door. Her heart lept into her throat each time she heard the thunder of the big guns... each time she thought Ysak was sure to get blown to bits. But he always surprised her again with his speed and agility... he hadn't even taken a scratch yet.

"It's not fair." She complained during one lull in the fighting.

"What isn't?" Ysak asked.

"I wish I could move as fast as you."

"And I wish I could shoot like you... we can't all get what we want. You have to leave me some way of impressing you."

"You don't need speed to do that." Katie mumbled with a smile. Ysak ducked around the corner just ahead of them. He rolled back a second later, just ahead of the line of sparking scars traced along the floor from the heavy bullets of a sentry gun. "Another one? How many sentry guns does this place have? This is like some stupid, bad, repetitive video game!"

"I think this is the last one... I remember a dual barrel gun mounted on the ceiling right outside the cell block... and that's what this is. I think we're close to the cell block."

"We are... they're just past the gun, still locked up." Katie confirmed after a moment's thought. "There's a bitch ton of guards right around the corner too... and they're expecting backup soon."

"You can tell all that?" Ysak asked, amazed.

"Not as such... they're nervous, that's easy to sense... but they're also excited... and the only way I can see them getting excited is if they've got backup en route."

"Well, then I guess we need to hurry. How do we want to do this? It's going to be tough to hit the ceiling turret with a grenade... I know you've done it before but we're running out of grenades..."

"Yeah, someone wised up and had them stop bringing them to us." Katie acknowledged. "But there is no point in saving them... I think we're going to have to do this one the hard way."

"What's the hard way?" Ysak asked... he noticed the look she was giving him. "Oh. That hard way." He slipped fresh magazines into his sub guns. "If we don't make it through this..."

"Don't say anything, Ysak. I can read your mind just fine. And we're going to make it through this."

"I suppose you can at that." Ysak muttered. "Rea..." he started to ask when he realized she was probably still reading his thoughts. A pair of grenades sailed past him and bounced around the corner, going up in near simultaneous flashes of fire and smoke and clouds of buzzing shrapnel. He paused a single second to wait for the ricochets to die down and then dived around the corner into a long roll that kept him low and fast moving as he cleared the smoke haze left over from the explosions. The sentry gun was still aimed high, its sensors blocked by the smoke. It started to pan down, guns shuddering with recoil as it tried to blow him apart, but he was far too fast for it, having already covered half the distance to it before clearing the smoke. He heard the bullets whiz past his head and crack against the metal floor, but ignored it. He was under the line of fire and out of danger from the gun. He dropped into a long slide on his chest... tearing the expensive material to shreds from friction with the floor but better that than his chest.

He rolled onto his side while sliding and extended both guns as he passed the corridor opening which led into the prison area. There were a good ten guards there, standing in partial cover behind the partway closed blast doors. But they were all looking up at the sentry gun, guns leveled at waist height... several feet above Ysak's position. He had them in his sights for about a second and a half... they didn't even notice him until he opened fire. During that second and a half before his slide carried him out of sight of them, his guns spewed out thirty five bullets... each emptying the entire magazine. The guns weren't much for accuracy and each bullet didn't have much stopping power, but they could certainly put out a great deal of those bullets very quickly. He didn't know how successful his shots were... he'd seen lots of hits but couldn't hear anyone fall over the roar of the sentry gun, which had swiveled around to target him again. The moment it exposed it's unshielded back, Katie was around the far corner and sprinting. The bullets were just tracking towards Ysak's legs when her tossed grenade landed neatly in the back of the gun mount and blew it to scrap.

Ysak jumped to his feet and dropped the guns... there was no time to reload. He drew a pair of combat knives instead, bounding around the corner, jumping high this time. The fire from the remaining six guards shot under his tucked up legs. They overcorrected as he let himself fall into another roll... the gunfire streaked past him for perhaps a quarter second, a bullet clipping his shoulder, another his ear and a third his hip... just grazes, barely bleeding. Then recoil forced the barrels upward and the last shots sparked off the ceiling. Then the guns ran out of bullets to shoot and the guards ran out of time to live. Katie leaned around the corner, pistol in either hand... she wasn't as accurate with two as she was with one, but at this range she didn't need to be. Ysak was still rising from his roll, left hand knife buried in the groin of the closest guard by the time she'd put two guards down with a flurry of shots into their upper chests, necks and heads. Ysak ripped the knife out and stabbed the screaming man again in the heart to finish him, slashing out with his right hand blade to disembowel the next closest soldier.

It was in the confusion and chaos of melee that it became completely apparent to Ysak and to Katie just how much superior a well trained and motivated Coordinator was to most Naturals. It may have been apparent to the guards too... but none of them lived long enough for that to matter. Those that Ysak did not slice and dice, Katie dropped with pistol fire. The guards didn't have a chance to even go for their knives... the entire fight lasted only four or five seconds after the guards ran out of bullets. Katie reloaded her pistols and set to stripping the corpses of anything useful, while Ysak picked up loaded sub guns from two of the guards he'd dropped with his sliding fire. He cautiously edged into the prison area... he didn't recall seeing any sentry guns in the prison area proper, though there were some in the entrance areas to the interrogation rooms. There was a shut blast door in front of him... obviously there was a corridor behind it, but Ysak did not know or care where it went.

"Ysak!" Katie called. He looked back just in time to catch a keycard on a chain. "This sergeant had it around his neck... hopefully it'll open the cells." Ysak peered around the two familiar corridors... the outside walls were lined with doors that led to cells like the one where he'd been imprisoned... the inside walls were blank. The blast doors leading to the interrogation rooms were shut in both corridors... thankfully blocking off the sentry guns there as well. Ysak didn't trust those doors to stay closed long though... it would be most inopportune if the guns fired on the prisoners leaving their cells. Ysak headed right first, towards his own cell. Best to get the fighters free first... no slight to Cagalli but he'd much rather have Athrun backing his ass up right now. Miriallia and Lacus were noncombatants. And Katie was already armed. The key card did indeed open the cells... he only knew which one was Dearka's, so he opened them all.

"What the hell is going on?" Athrun yelled, poking his head cautiously around the door of his opened cell. "Bad enough you have to torture us, must you fire your guns when I'm try to sle... what the HELL? Ysak?"

"Jailbreak!" Ysak called back. "Get out and get armed, guns are around the corner. Bad guys incoming soon. Katie will tell you when. No questions... I'm in charge this time around."

Dearka stumbled out his cell, still slightly dazed. He'd been beaten up pretty badly during the session with Ysak... he'd healed well enough and been bandaged so he didn't bleed excessively, but he was badly bruised all over and his eyes were still only half open. Coordinator or not, you just didn't bounce back from getting the shit kicked out of you... not after only a half day or so. He'd heard what Ysak had yelled to Athrun and he didn't need any futher explanation... payback sounded perfectly fine to him.

"What's happening?" Kira asked as Ysak opened his cell door. "What's with the shooting... oh, Ysak. How did you get free?"

"Standard way... I killed the guards." Ysak replied, not willing to say more than that. His fist tightened on the grip of his gun... Kira was indirectly responsible for putting them into this situation... without him wanting to go to the wedding of Sai, Chanel would still be alive. Ysak forced himself to push that down and onto a back burner... he could have a reckoning with Kira when they were out of here. "I don't want to hear any of your bullshit about keeping these guys alive... they may be people with lives, but if they keep living we won't. I won't stand for Katie to be tortured just because you couldn't stop the men trying to capture her. This is a last stand situation... them or us. you'd damn well better choose us, or else I'll be lumping you in with them. Understand?"

"Perfectly. I know you and I don't agree on many things, Ysak... that you think my philosophy is stupid and foolish. But you understand me... I know as well as you that there are some things in this world you cannot protect without fighting for them. Without killing for them, in extremis. And you listen to me... I'll gladly kill a soldier before I let any of them hurt Lacus... or Miriallia... or Cagalli... or even you. Like you said... it's them or us. I most definitely choose us." Kira said. He stared into Ysak's eyes, noting the slightly glazed look, the extremely narrow pupils... the pale haired Coordinator was in what Kira and Athrun called "berserker" mode. Kira and Athrun could enter it whenever they needed to... Ysak could not as far as Kira knew. This was likely his first time... Kira remembered what it had been like for him the first time. Something terrible had happened... his feeling had been right. Something must have happened to push Ysak over the edge. "What happened?"

"Not now." Ysak replied harshly. "Now we fight... later I might tell you. Assuming you're still alive."

"YSAK! They're coming YSAK!" Katie called from around the corner. Ysak glared at Kira for a moment more and then sprinted for the corner. He did not look back to see that Kira was right behind him.

"You need to send more soldiers down there... at least one Coordinator is free as is one of the commando girls... if you don't recapture them then they will almost certainly try to free their friends." Asmodeus told the Doc as they walked towards the elevator that would take Asmodeus back to the garage where the humvee was, so he could return to his jet.

"A Coordinator is free? But I thought you were going to kill Ysak... how can he be free? And what about the other girl... I know you took them both from their cells... without asking me, mind. You said one is free... where is the other? And where is Cray... he was supposed to stay with you!" the Doc protested angrily.

"I never said I was going to kill Ysak Joule... merely that I would exact my revenge upon him. My revenge has been exacted... I lost my son... he lost one of his girlfriends, the girl Chanel Belaruse. Cray executed her on my order." Asmodeus replied. "And mind you, that I'm your superior... in many ways. I don't need to ask you to do anything I want. You survive on the tolerance of Cervantes and myself... don't forget that."

"Blue Cosmos survives on my creations, Asmodeus. You'd do well yourself to remember that. Where would you be without the BCPU's? Without the Gundam's I helped build... without the many, many projects I've run for you people. You'd be dead... thats what." the Doc retorted. "And how could you kill the girl, just like that? Do you have any idea what sort of resource you might have denied Blue Cosmos with your rash revenge? I've reason to suspect that the twin girls are Active Newtypes! Do you have any idea how rare people like them are? And you just killed one, just to get back for your son's death? What a stupid waste!"

Asmodeus shrugged and turned, putting his finger in the Doc's face. "Don't mention my son to me, Doctor. If you say one more word about him in my presence or out of it, I will shoot you. I don't care how much Blue Cosmos relies on you... if you keep angering me, I will put you in an unmarked grave." Asmodeus turned back and continued on his way. "Active Newtype or not, I don't really care. I never really put much stock in the babblings of you scientists on that subject anyway. Telepathy... emotional control... mind reading... a load of bullshit if you ask me. A creative way of asking for more funding. Don't quote your facts and findings to me, Doctor... my mind is quite made up." Asmodeus cut the Doc off before he could argue. "All I care about is the very angry young Coordinator running around down there, loose and probably armed. He was beating Cray quite thoroughly last time I saw them and given how Cray has not returned yet, I'd imagine that your vaunted BCPU 5 has not emerged victorious. Hopefully he's still alive... though I doubt it... the Coordinator did not look rational when I saw him and his anger was quite plain to hear."

Cray was at that moment scaling the walls of the waste pit, pissed off and covered in decaying waste. He'd thought even he was screwed... a four hundred meter fall was more than enough to kill even him. he was nowhere near a wall either... there was no way to slow or break his fall. But he hadn't counted on the water filling the bottom of the waste pit to an unknown depth. Or the scores... if not hundreds... of partially decayed bodies and bits of bodies that were floating on the surface of that water. The soft decaying flesh and bones had somewhat broken his fall, slowing him so that the impact with the water below was merely stunning rather than fatal. His feet felt broken... he'd landed feet first... and his groin felt like it was on fire as did most of his lower body. He'd sunk too... his mechanical augmentations and lack of body fat combining to make him very negatively buoyant. He must have gone down a good ten meters before he woke up again and managed to struggle to the surface, pushing the bodies out of the way, spitting out the effluent fouled water.

Cray ignored his hurts and grasped the slick rock of the walls and started hauling himself up. He found that he'd pissed himself in fear during the fall... embarrassing and weak. He felt his rage building as he climbed... the damned Coordinator with the facial scar... Ysak. He was a dead man. A dead and mutilated man, if Cray had his dithers. He'd been caught off guard and in a tough position and the Coordinator had defeated him and pushed him into the pit, breaking his hand when he tried to catch himself. The hand throbbed as Cray used it to pull himself up, the fingers quashed and bleeding sluggishly. But nothing hurt enough to stop his climb upwards, back into the light of life, out of the pit of death. He clambered and pulled and pushed and scrabbled with all his considerable might, until he was moving up the sheer wall faster than many people could walk on a flat level surface. He'd break the Coordinator in half and take his remaining girlfriend right there in front of the slowly dying body... then he'd break her in half too. Then he'd drop both of them down the pit... he didn't think they'd climb back up. His enhanced ears picked out the sound of sentry gun fire and grenade explosions. He needed to hurry before the stupid Coordinator killed himself.

"I trusted Cray to take care of the Coordinator after I was done... it is now your responsibility to ensure the recapture or death of your experimental subjects. I don't care how you do it or how it turns out... as long as the BCPU's are in position in the forces when they are supposed to be. Now, I take my leave. Good day, Doctor." Asmodeus said firmly, entering the elevator and closing the door in the Doc's face before he could reply. The Doc grimaced unpleasantly at the closed doors... that was the rudest he'd ever been treated since he first contacted Asmodeus and Cervantes and Azrael. He paused only a second to condemn the military minds that could condone the waste of vaulable resources in the name of revenge just because the value of the resources was not commonly understood. The value of the life of a single Active Newtype was easily as much as the amount spent to grow Frost, if not more. There were probably less than fifty of them in all of humanity, Coordinators and Naturals combined. And of those fifty perhaps ten even had any clue what they were. The Doc deepened his grimace... and now another Active Newtype was likely running around down on sub level five, likely in mortal danger. He would not lose another test subject to the military mind. This situation required a quick end.

The Doc pulled out his private cell phone, which he'd modified to work only within the confines of JIHAD, rather than outside. He could control most systems remotely from the phone... a fact that only he knew about. He blocked off the sentry guns outside the interrogation rooms with the dropping blast doors... Ysak and Katie would try to free their friends he had no doubt and he didn't want the other subjects blazed down by the guns while being freed. He also checked to make sure the doors to the security center in the middle of the cell block were locked shut... they were, since it was standard protocol in break out situations like this, but it never hurt to check. The guards here were supposed to be of high quality... but the Doc didn't believe that was so... fanatics were never high quality. He locked the doors down personally... now the guards would stay inside until he let them out. No need to risk a death from stray gunfire... his subjects were important to the future of the BCPU project... and he'd already noted with frustration the accuracy of his so called elite guards. He put the phone to his ear and whispered a location code. "Can you hear me, Zacharis?" he asked.

----------------------------------

Zacharis took a sip of grape soda from the tube that hung over his containment table and tore his eyes away from the chainsaw murder flick playing on the wall screen about four feet away. The movie was on mute, during one of the scenes where the psycho... whom Zacharis of course sympathized with... was chopping pretty girls to pieces with his weapon of choice... a four foot long portable lumber saw. Zacharis didn't need to hear the sound... he could well imagine what it sounded like. He was mentally critiquing the psycho's work as he watched... this guy wasn't all that good, even for a pretender. He didn't put any creativity into his work... he just straight up and down chopped away... he didn't bother to cause pain or terror beyond that caused by the sight of a big man with a bloody chainsaw. This guy was supposed to be a monster... but he just wasn't artistic enough to pull it off.

Frost was of course strapped to the table, his legs held together by thick steel bands that also held him stabled to the table. His hands were fully enclosed in metal spheres and his wrists were chained down. Similar chains with half inch thick links wrapped around his torso, arms, waist and thighs, pulling tight across the inpatient garb they allowed him to wear and binding him to the table. A steel collar around his neck made it so he couldn't even lift his head to look down at himself... the entire table had to be rotated by the scientists so he could watch his movie. When he wasn't watching movies or being asked questions by his evaluators there was a big steel helmet that was locked to the collar, fully enclosing his head. There were no eye holes in the helmet and only a small grille for breathing purposes.

It was quite inconvenient for Frost, all told... but it was the only way to be sure he didn't go anywhere or kill anyone. After being denied his chance to kill Lacus Clyne earlier he'd gone on a rampage... added another four scientists and six guards to his record. Finally the Doc himself had come out and faced him down... Frost had been unable to muster the gumption to strike him down... just yet. He knew he should just kill the Doc... the man had no power over him... but something he couldn't identify held him back... not fear... not respect... but something told him to wait for a better chance.

"I hear you, Doc." Frost replied, taking another sip of soda. "I'm in the middle of a good part." The movie suddenly clicked off and the table rotated so Frost was now looking up at the ceiling. Frost glared at the ceiling... there was no point in ranting or protesting... the Doc would put the movie back on when he wanted to.

"I'm letting you out, Frost." the Doc said. He sounded reluctant to Frost. "I need your help."

"I'll be happy to kill you and everyone else here." Frost immediately volunteered. "I'd thought you never ask."

"Enough of your games." the Doc snapped. "I need you to recapture the prisoners who are breaking free on sub level five. It's the Coordinators and their friends... Asmodeus exacted his revenge on them and then let some of them go... I think the man is deliberately trying to cause problems for me."

"Can't imagine why... Coordinator." Frost said with a smirk. "And you know I don't do capture."

"You do now." The Doc retorted.

"And if I don't? What if I kill them all? Are you going to kill me? Not while there's a war on, I think."

"If you recapture them all alive I'll give you Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha." the Doc replied. Frost opened his mouth to make a smart comment, which died in his throat. The thought was making him start to salivitate.

"I can just have them anyway, once you let me go." Frost replied happily.

"No... you misunderstood me, Zacharis. When I release you... yes you could have your way with them... you could kill them. You'd have all of minutes to do it in, because after you disable them I'll be flooding the area with soldiers... more even than you can handle. However, if you recapture them all alive... I'll put the two girls alone in the gym. Then you can go in. I'll give you until you have to leave for the war to do whatever you want. Whatever... you... want. Do you understand now?" The Doc countered. He had no real intention of keeping that promise... but Frost had real trouble telling when the Doc was lying and when he wasn't... the Doc was counting on the lust and greed parts of Frost's mind taking over even more than usual.

"You have yourself a deal, Doc." Frost agreed immediately. This was a rare treat indeed... worth actually keeping a deal for once. "Though if you are going to flood them with soldiers anyway... oh I see. Yes, the soldiers suck with guns. I get it, I get it." He licked his lips... this would be delicious... little work and big reward... just what he always wanted for a present. Maybe it was his birthday. Frost decided that it was. Now it was, even if it wasn't before. He didn't remember when his actual birthday was and the Doc had never said... so today was as good a day as any. The restraints suddenly rolled back into the table, the chains loosening, the neck collar falling open... he was free to move again. He luxuriated in it as only one who spends most of his time restrained can. Amazing how good it felt to just stand when you couldn't even wriggle your toes most of the time.

"They're on level five, gathering in the cell block... I'm sending Ashino as well, and Cray when I find him. They'll be under similar orders. You are not to harm them either... even by accident."

"They're getting rewards as well?" Frost asked suspiciously... he didn't like it when people modified a deal after the fact... he usually got cheated when that happened.

"There are extra girls... Cray will get the Natural Miriallia... Ashino doesn't require a reward. He's notably likable that way."

"He's also a notable pissant asshole. If he doesn't want a reward... well, more for me." Frost replied. "I don't suppose..."

"No weapons for you." the Doc cut him off. "The temptation may prove more than your practically nonexistant sense of restraint can handle."

"You know me too well, Doc."

"I know you as well as I can, Zacharis. I'm your creator, that's my purpose."

"What's my purpose then?"

"Your current purpose is to recapture those people on level five. Your long term purpose... well, my boy... perhaps I'll tell you later. There are too many ears around right now. Now get moving... and do me proud, Zacharis." the Doc ended the call and called Ashino to issue similar orders.

"Oh... I'll do you, Doc. I'll do you with a sword... a knife... an axe... a gun... a mobile suit... my hands... my teeth... I'll do you in good and proper and final and bloody. But not before you tell me what my purpose is." Zacharis Frost muttered as he stalked panther quick out of his containment cell and towards the elevator leading up.

------------------------------------

Athrun switched out magazines as fast as he could... there was no telling when the next group of guards would try to assault their position... probably with the same lack of success as the two previous waves. The corridor leading to the prison area... there was only one... was only eight feet wide and about twice that long. It was a natural bottleneck... designed that way no doubt, to make the prison hard to assault or break out of. The guards could only come at them in a limited front... they couldn't be flanked or outmaneuvered while they were there. On the other hand it was very difficult to leave either... the guards would have them in a crossfire once they got out of the corridor that connected the prison area to the rest of the facility. It was a frustrating stalemate... they'd been freed from their cells, reunited with their friends... but now they were just about as trapped as they were before.

Armed or not, there was no way they could get out of the prison area alive... there were too many guards, someone would get killed before they could take all the enemy down. It wasn't hard to gun down the guards that tried to rush them... body armor or not, the massed fire from seven people was uniformly fatal to people in the bottleneck. The guards usually didn't even get the chance to fire back before being mowed down... Athrun personally couldn't believe they kept coming... they'd killed at least twenty, plus however many Ysak and Katie had accounted for breaking them out. Speaking of... Ysak was a mess.

Athrun turned to look halfway back at Ysak, who was behind him, crouched behind a barricade of guard corpses and cots hastily dragged from cells, keeping one eye on the direction the guards would come from. His pale haired rival of long standing wasn't hurt... well, he'd been grazed several times by small calibre bullets, but Athrun himself knew well that those didn't hurt too badly... especially when you were hyped out in berserker mode. He shook his head... he'd thought himself and Kira to be the only ones who could do that... Cagalli claimed to have done it during Jachin Due, but she hadn't been able to summon it since, and he and Kira could do it whenever they wanted... it was just a matter of calling the right feelings to mind. Righteous anger and protectiveness did the trick for Athrun... he didn't know what motivated Kira. He'd considered utilizing the skill now... but the side effects were also well known to him... it was very draining on the mind and the body... Ysak was going to burn himself to exhaustion if he kept himself like this. Athrun didn't say anything to him though... Ysak wasn't in the mood for advice of any sort. Athrun couldn't blame him... the absence of Chanel was so noticable it was painful. Ysak hadn't confirmed whether she was dead or just missing... but Athrun couldn't imagine Ysak breaking him out of jail before making sure both girls were safe first.

Katie also looked very strung out... eyes slightly unfocused and posture slumped... though she had proved over and over again that her mind was working just fine and her hands were steady as ever... as ever her accuracy amazed him. By all accounts Athrun was an amazing shot himself... and she put him to shame. Just went to prove that just because a person was a Coordinator did not at all mean they were inherently better than a Natural. As Kira said... a person was not defined by their abilities alone... without motivation and hard work a Coordinator was just a person with a good immune system. Athrun frowned... Katie actually was acting quite strange, now that he had a moment to reflect upon it. Even accounting for the loss of her twin sister... Katie seemed different than usual. She always seemed to know when the guards were about to attack... even though they were out of sight and hearing, beyond even his senses to detect. And every so often her eyes would blink shut for an extended period... perhaps five seconds. During that time Ysak would always whisper something to himself... so low that Athrun couldn't hear what the words were, just that there were words... words that didn't sound like they were addressed to Ysak. But this wasn't the time to be worrying about little inconsistencies like that... he should be trying to figure some way out of this bind they were in.

"Any luck yet?" Cagalli asked, from where she was kneeling behind him, positioned so she could shoot past him at knee height. Dearka and Miriallia mirrored their positions on the far side of the hall, with Ysak, Kira and Katie behind the makeshift barricade in the middle. Lacus waited off the left, out of direct line of fire... she had no idea how to use a gun and would only be a liability during a fight... she was standing by with what first aid supplies they had in case someone got hit.

"Hm?" Athrun asked in reply, caught flatfooted by her question.

"You've got the introspective look on your face that says to me you're thinking hard about something. I gather you were thinking about how to get out of here safely, right?" Cagalli explained.

"I didn't realize I was so easy to read. But yes, that's basically right. And I'm afraid to admit it, but I'm stumped so far." he replied. Cagalli gave him a partially exasperated look. "What?"

"Athrun, dear... it's me. I can read you like a book, you know that." she told him. He chuckled and nodded... that was certainly true. Just about the only person that read his moods better than Cagalli was Lacus... and she was that good with almost everyone, so that was nothing special. "You really don't have any ideas?"

"No good ones." Athrun answered. He raised his voice a little. "Anyone figure out how to get out of this with us all in one piece?" Silence greeted that question. "We're in trouble." he told Cagalli, voice back to a near whisper.

"I have faith in you. You'll come up with something." she replied. _Great... now I feel bad, on top of everything else. I'm supposed to be good at shit like this? When did that happen?_ Athrun groused.

"They're coming." Katie suddenly spoke up.

"Damn fools... assaulting a fixed position from a narrow front is crazy... I would have figured even Blue Cosmos fanatics weren't so eager to die as to try again." Dearka spat in disgust, readying his gun.

"Not the guards." Katie refuted. In her mind's eye she could see them approaching. Two of them. One was the conglomerate beast from the waste pit room... the one who'd shot Chanel... Cray. The other... she shied away from looking at the other. Cray was tough to look upon, his insane mind changing proportions and geometery without cease... whoever the other was, their mind was so far beyond sanity that words could no longer describe it. In the out of the corner of her mind glimpses she had of the other... well, the closest analogy whe could think of was a nest of writhing snakes upon which boiling oil had been poured. It was undoubtedly Frost... she'd sensed him before. "It's the BCPU's... Cray... and Frost."

"Frost?" Miriallia gasped.

"How can you tell?" Dearka asked. "I can't hear or see anything."

"She knows. Just trust her." Ysak ordered. "You say that Frost can dodge bullets... well, I don't think he'll be able to dodge all of us. And Cray isn't that tough... I beat him by myself."

"I hope so." Kira muttered. He looked over at Lacus, who was looking most frightened. "It's okay, Lacus. I'm here... I'll protect you."

"I-I know, Kira. I don't know why I'm so scared... I can just feel this sense of doom. It's hard to get rid of." Lacus replied. Katie muttered something Kira could not quite make out... something about "unshielded". Before he could ask her what she'd said, the lights in the corridor went out, plunging them into pitch darkness.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Frost maniacal voice called from off in the darkness. He giggled. "You've been hiding long enough... it's your turn to seek!"

"Yeah... come on out and play. We just want to have a good time. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die!" Cray added gleefully. "After I cross-section yours and you die." he added in a whisper only he could hear.

"If you come out with your hands on your heads and unarmed, you won't be harmed. You have my word on that." Ashino said from behind the other two. All the BCPU's were wearing night vision goggles, so they could see just fine.

"I thought you said two." Ysak murmured to Katie.

"Ashino is shielded... he's like Asmodeus I think... I don't know how he's doing it." she whispered back. "Cray and Frost are roughly ten meters away, directly ahead. Ashino could be anywhere."

"I think we'll hold off on that. We're having lots of fun right here!" Dearka taunted back. "Not often we get to have our own private turkey shoot... though I've been wanting a bit of a challenge. I'm glad they sent us a few chickens to replace the turkeys. Cluck cluck... chickens... cluck cluck." Dearka added a few realistic chicken noises for effect. There was an explosion of noise from out in the darkened hall.

"Goddamn it, let me go! I'll show him a chicken! I'll twist his head off with my bare hands. Fuck you guys, let me go... I'll kill him... I'll give him chicken..." Cray shouted while Ashino and Frost held him back. "Fucking midget bastards, let me go! Nobody makes fun of me and lives to talk about it. I'll blow their freaking brains out and suck the blood off my hands... just like I did for that girl. See how they like that. Chicken? I'll slaughter the bastard who said that!"

"We're under orders... the Doc will vivisection us all if you kill them!" Ashino hissed. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have my insides spread all over a table for a few hours while he vidictively pokes around inside my chest with a scapel."

"Later... you can have them later, Cray. We do this the way the Doc wants and you get a reward... I get my rewards... and then we can kill them later. I recognize that voice... he's a wuss. Can't even take a knife to the chest. He bleeds easy... he's a pretty boy with a pretty girl... you can have them both... just don't kill them yet." Frost added. "If you keep struggling I'll break your arm and bind you with it... it's long enough."

Ysak had responded badly to one of Cray's threats... specifically the one about blowing brains out and sucking blood off hands. He'd bolted upright and was currently trembling, gun pointed down the hall. "Monster... I'll kill him for sure this time... how dare he... how dare... bastard." Ysak pulled out a grenade. "EAT THIS, CRAY! I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON IT, YOU CHICKENSHIT!" Ysak flicked the spoon off the grenade and rolled it down the hall like a bowling ball.

"Grenade!" Ashino warned, diving back and to the side. Gunfire didn't worry him much... he was wearing an armor vest and helmet, and the small caliber bullets of the sub guns wouldn't penetrate his reinforced body very well... he could take a few shots pretty much anywhere and still be near optimal operating status. But a grenade was a different story... an explosive or fragmentary grenade could kill him just like that... he was tough but not so tough that he could withstand high explosives at close range in a cramped space. Frost did not retreat, he released Cray and charged forward, leaping over the grenade and tucking himself into a ball in midair. The grenade spun as it bounced against Cray's feet. He looked down with almost comical amazement and then jumped straight up, as hard as he could, turning so he was stretched out horizontally in midair.

Cray had just reached the ceiling when the grenade blew, momentarily lighting up the hall with fire and flash, spraying fingernail sized bits of metal in a deadly horizontal spray. The initial force of the blast threw Frost forward and down, curled up like he was he hit the ground like an extremely solid soccer ball and he bounced and rolled forward, crashing into a body of a guard and flipping to his feet only a few meters from the escapees, who still couldn't see him. Ashino was out of the blast area of the grenade, though he both heard and saw pieces of shrapnel bounce off the walls and ceiling around him. Cray was above most of the blast, which primarily threw shrapnel to the side and up at an angle, not straight up. Still, he was peppered slightly with fragments of plastic and metal... none did more than stick in his skin like splinters, he barely bled at all. He landed on all fours like a cat.

Cray made loud choking noises... death gasps, gasps of terrible wracking agony. "Bastard... killed me... blew me apart..." Cray said, voice trailing off like he had just died. "OR NOT!" he scuttled forward, still on all fours, running like a beast, speeding up so that by the time he reached Frost's position he was bounding like a gorilla. Ashino shook his head... the other BCPU's were so childish it sometimes made him sad. Why couldn't they be more mature? Sure, they were crazy asses... but did that necessarily mean they had to indulge in these posturing games, taunting their enemies, laughing at them... it was all so pointless. You killed the enemy and moved on... you didn't torment them or torture them or taunt them... Ashino didn't remember once being taught to do such things, and he knew Frost and Cray had had the same schooling as him. The escapees were firing now... but it was too late, Frost was already almost within arm's reach... what bullets he did not duck under or dodge around weren't powerful enough to do more than dent his skin, leaving small bleeding welts, with the bullet still visible from the surface.

When Cray joined the fight it really was over... unable to see, out of bullets, off balance and even already wounded from interrogation, the escapee's did not have a chance. Ashino dived into the brawl as quickly as he could, ignoring the tangled knots of Coordinators trying to wrestle with Cray and Frost. He headed towards the targets that would do the most good... the females. The pilots would stop fighting in an instant to save their loves... it was simple. Capture the girls and you'd capture the guys. A part of Ashino almost felt ashamed for using such an underhanded strategy, but he quashed it almost at once... such thoughts led to the path of pride and vanity... maybe even ultimately to the posturing Cray and Frost seemed unable to do without. He'd play dirty to stay clean... the sooner the fighting was over, the more chance the pilots would be unharmed. And also, he was far more likely to have no ulterior motive in mind when apprehending the girls... even with orders to the contrary, he did not doubt Cray would attempt to feel the girls up, if nothing else. They'd be lucky if that was all Frost did... Frost was not a sexually oriented being like Cray... he liked pain and death... those were his pleasures.

Ashino couldn't say for sure he had no ulterior motive in mind... something was driving him to be gentler with the girls than he would have been for the guys... even though two of them, Cagalli and Katie, were easily as much threat as any of the males. Well... maybe not as much threat, but close. He tried to analyze what he was feeling as he put Cagalli in a sleeper choke hold, cutting off the flow of blood to her brain with one arm while he fended off the blindly aimed if extremely efficient kicks of Katie with his other arm and legs. Cagalli went limp within a minute... far faster than she would have if he'd tried to strangle choke the air from her. He held for an extra ten seconds to make sure she wasn't faking... he did not doubt that she was crafty enough to try such a thing. when he was sure she was really out, he gently lowered her to the floor, still fending Katie off in the process... with her being blind and him not that wasn't as hard as it sounded.

He turned his full attention to Katie and downed her by chopping the nerve on the back of her neck... stunning her. Miriallia was easy... she was no unarmed combatant... she kicked and shrieked loud enough to make him turn his head when he grabbed her from behind. Another neck chop laid her low... it was almost so easy he felt guilty. Lacus was around the corner, her eyes wide and unfocused... she looked like she was seeing something else rather than what was there. He stood over her... she was crouched down on the ground or else it'd have been him looking up at her. He smiled at her, even though she couldn't see him. She really was quite a person to look upon, even in the green light provided by the goggles. Too bad she already loved another person. Ashino halted his thought process... had he really just thought that? He didn't even know what love was... how could he want such a thing for himself? Didn't he have enough as it was? He was alive... he was given a job... what else did he need? It was totally unlike him to want something... especially something as intangible and doubtlessly transient as the love of another being. He'd have to study this some more... what a strange effect these girls were having on him. His breathing was changing... his heart was racing... this was not something he'd experienced before.

"Someone's there. I can hear you breathing. Are you hurt? What's going on... I can't see anything. Where are you? Kira?" Lacus muttered, stretching out her hands. Ashino did not move, though she was moments from touching him. He found himself getting... excited. He frowned... excitement was not an appropriate emotion for him to be feeling... not when the mission was still in progress. He'd done nothing to be excited about. He had to stop this before anything else strange happened.

"It is me." Ashino said. Lacus instantly withdrew her hands, inches from his shoulders. Ashino felt his frown deepen... he felt denied. He squashed the emotion ruthlessly... he hadn't missed out on anything he didn't want to miss out on. This was not his girl... she was not supposed to touch him and vice versa. He didn't know where he'd heard that rule, but it sounded right to him. He needed to talk to the Doc about this... it migh start affecting his performance if he kept feeling like this. It was almost like... like he really was a person. "Do you surrender?"

"Ashino..." Lacus whispered. "What is going on... the lights are out, I can't see, but it sounds like a lot of fighting is going on. People are getting hurt!" Ashino nodded, belatedly aware that she still couldn't see him.

"Frost is here... so is Cray. They're currently subduing your loves. I've disabled Cagalli, Katie and Miriallia. I tried not to hurt them, but I don't know how successful I was... you girls are very delicate."

"We're not as fragile as most people seem to think." Lacus replied. "Frost is here... Kira said he'd protect me."

"Kira is currently getting his ass kicked from here to Sunday by Frost... and that's with Athrun's help." Ashino replied. "If you don't surrender to me and tell your loves to surrender then they'll get progressively more hurt... unlike me Frost is not known for his sense of mercy and restraint. Cray is the same way." He paused. "I don't want to subdue you as well, Lacus. It would not make me feel good, I feel sure. Please surrender... it is your only option."

"Dying for your beliefs is always the final option... even though I don't believe it is appropriate for the current situation." Lacus replied. "Very well... I place my life in your hands, Ashino. I surrender."

"I apologize for the way I must say this then... doubtless Kira and the others will not be happy with me." Ashino told her as he turned back towards the melee. "I have Lacus Clyne here. I'm Markov Ashino, BCPU 4. If you do not surrender this instant and cease all resisting activities I will have no choice but to break her neck right here and now. I have disabled Cagalli, Miriallia and Katie... they are currently unharmed but I will also kill them if you do not surrender immediately. Do you understand?"

"Bastard!" four seperate Coordinators cried as one.

"Sly little Ashino... if you kill Pink I'll add her pain to yours, biological impossibility or not!" Frost added. "The Doc has promised her to me."

"Don't hold your breath, Zacharis." Ashino whispered, so low only Lacus heard him... just as he'd wanted to. "You'll have her over a number of dead bodies... mine included."

"Kira... please... stop. All of you... please... I can't stand the thought of you all getting killed. Please... we can't win this fight. Maybe if you were in mobile suits... but not blind, in the dark. Please." Lacus added. Slowly the sound of struggling ceased. Ashino was amazed... he hadn't expected the strategy to work so fast... he couldn't imagine Frost or Cray or even himself giving up the fight so soon if the Doc asked them too. Truly this love emotion was a powerful thing... though he guessed he should have already realized that, given that it was affecting even him... and he was proud of the fact that he had erased all but the necessary emotions for survival from his personality... or so he'd thought anyway. The lights came back on with the sound of rushing boots... dozens of soldiers descended on the prison complex, quickly binding the slightly battered looking Coordinators and the just now waking up females. Several guards approached Lacus, but Ashino backed them down with a frown and a stare.

"The Doc wants to see them... now. In his lab." a soldier told Ashino. Ashino nodded and turned towards Lacus.

"Lacus... it is this way, if you would?" he noted her frightened look... plainly she was still very worried, despite the still good condition of her friends. Ashino did not blame her... she still had a lot to be afraid of... an interview with Doc was not something anyone should take lightly. He wondered what Doc wanted to talk to them about.


	58. The Doc

Lacus held a hand to her head as she followed Ashino and the soldiers who were escorting Kira and the others further into the depths of the facility. He head ached abomindably... worse than a migraine. It was odd too, because the intensity of the pain seemed to ebb and flow according to some pattern she couldn't quite discern. It made it very hard to think clearly and that was not a good thing... if ever there was a time in her life when she needed her wits about her, this was it. They had been free... so close to being really free... and they had stalled right on the cusp of victory. If they'd been able to get out into the hallways alive she was sure they would currently be running around outside... wherever outside was here. But there was no use in lamenting what might have been, she needed to concentrate on the here and now. "Where are we being taken?" she asked Ashino, who was walking just ahead of her. Kira and the others were being pushed along several feet in front of Ashino, with the two other BCPU's almost frolicking along at the head of the group of prisoners and guards.

"To see the Doc. In his private lab, down on sub level six." Ashino replied.

"And who is this Doc? You said before that he was something like your father. He's not actually related to you, is he?" Lacus asked. "Does he have a name, this Doc?"

"Doc is his name, much like mine is BCPU. It accurately describes what he is, so that people do not need to ask. And as far as I know, he has no biological relation to me... or anyone here. In fact, I'm almost sure of that... for reasons I cannot go into right now. The Doc is the man who created the BCPU project in the first place... he designed and supervised the growth and construction of the three initial prototype models that served in the last war, as well as had a hand in designing their Gundams. After the initial models were produced the flaws found in them were corrected for later models like me... I only recently attained the designation of BCPU 4... about the time the last war ended." Ashino noted the unhappy look on Lacus's face. "What's wrong?"

"You keep referring to yourself as a thing or an object... you're a person, just like me. I weep for you, who doesn't seem to understand that...figuratively anyway, I cannot seem to muster the actual tears right now." Lacus replied with a self decrepitating smile.

"I am not a person. That fact has been drilled into my head ever since I can remember. I am not a human being... I am just an interface module with biological parts. I think and plan and create on my own... within the boundaries of my training... simply because no mechanical computer has yet been created that can do these things in an efficient enough manner to compete with Coordinators."

"But you feel! I know you feel. You feel pain and sadness and love... you might not want to admit it... but you do!" Lacus retorted. "You're not just what you're made of... people aren't made of parts... they're made of people!"

"I do not feel. I approximate feeling by judging how humans would feel. I've never lost anything important to me... so how can I be sad? I've never had anything I wanted... so how can I love? I've never had anything of value... how can I feel any pain that isn't physical? And while you may not be just what you are made of... I am. I'm Ashino, BCPU 4... take me apart and there is nothing left, not even a memory." Ashino replied.

"You're wrong. It's so sad, how wrong you are. You're in such pain that it has numbed you... you've lost so much you cannot even tell that you have lost anything. My heart goes out to you." Lacus told him. Ashino found he had to look away... an unfamiliar feeling of deep annoyance building within his chest. He felt... angry.

"Do not speak to me of hearts... especially when I know your heart is already held by another." Ashino retorted. "In fact... it would be best if you don't speak to me at all any more... if you have questions I'm sure the Doc will be able to explain them to you... he knows more about me than I do."

"I'm sorry for offending you, it was not my intention." Lacus said in a small voice. Ashino did not look at her and did not reply as the group filed into the elevators that would take them down to level six. "I want to thank you again though... even though you recaptured us, you did it without trying to hurt us... if you hadn't done what you'd done, Kira would probably have gotten hurt a lot worse trying to protect me against a person he can not defeat in personal combat. You're the nicest person I've met here... and I want you to know I appreciate it."

"You mistake kindness for efficiency. I am only kind because that is what accomplishes the mission the best way."

"No... you are kind because you want to be and you enjoy it." Lacus countered. "The best way to have captured us was to just knock me out and threaten me that way... you didn't even lay a hand on me." she smiled ever so slightly. "Say what you will... I won't think less of you because I know that deep down... in the heart you won't believe you have... you're a good person."

"What did I say about not speaking to me?"

"See... now you're getting annoyed... if my words really are meaningless, and you really don't feel... why does it matter what I say to you?" Lacus could not completely conceal a hint of triumph... she was starting to break through the wall he'd erected around his real self... or that had been erected around it for him. She felt the change in air pressure as the elevator descended... descended a very long way. "This sub level six sure is down a ways, isn't it?"

"Roughly one point five kilometers below surface level. This base is one of the deepest ever built. And completely without governmental supervision... the only people who know of this base are the people who control Blue Cosmos and the people who work here." Ashino replied, glad of a different topic of conversation... despite what he'd said he really didn't want to stop talking just yet... this might be the last chance he ever got to speak with her. The elevator slowed and stopped. "A word of advice... do not judge the Doc by how he looks... he works very hard and he frequently forgets to change his working clothes... he does all of the higher end augmentation surgeries personally and a little splatter cannot be helped..."

"So just because he looks like a mad scientist out of a movie doesn't mean he really is crazy?" Lacus clarified. She smiled again. "I'll be sure to make my impression off what he says, rather than how he looks. Thank you for the warning. See... that was a kind act."

"It was efficient... I wouldn't want to have to catch you if you fainted when you saw the Doc. And he really is crazy... there is a fine line between genius and insanity and I believe he firmly straddles that line."

"You give us girls too little credit... most of us are made of sterner stuff than you'd think. I don't just faint at the drop of a hat, you know." Lacus retorted. The doors to the elevator opened and Ashino escorted her down the short hallway. They had been in the elevator which descended first, so no one else was around... just the two of them. If she'd had anywhere to run at all, Lacus may have been tempted to make a break for it right then... but there was only forward to go, and forward led to the Doc... and she was probably safer as Ashino's captive than Cray's or Frost's... definitely safer on second thought. "I don't think I've ever fainted, actually... even when Frost was threatening to skin me alive... I was frozen with fear, but I was fully conscious." Ashino did not reply as he pushed open a pair of solid looking double doors. The dimly lit room beyond was actually quite large... the largest room she'd yet seen here, easily three times the size of the interrogation room. Four metal tables were arranged around the room, with bulky machinery hanging down over each table. There were also banks and banks of computer looking things, storage lockers and less identifiable objects arrayed along the walls and grouped in clusters all over the floor space of the lab. A lab it was... Lacus wasn't a scientist by any means but she knew a medical lab when she saw one... if the room had been much smaller and much more comfortably appointed, it could have been a room in a fertility clinic up in the PLANTS, where prospective parents would consult with doctors about what sort of enhancements they wanted their child to have and where the operation to input those enhancements would take place.

"Ah, the most enviable Lacus Clyne... I actually enjoy your music at times... it reminds me a lot of me when I was younger... I used to be such an idealist." the tired but not unkind voice said from off to the left. Lacus jumped slightly... she hadn't noticed anyone else in the room. She looked over and could not help but shiver and take a small step back... if Ashino hadn't warned her about what to expect she very well might have had a more serious reaction. It wasn't that the man himself was very threatening looking... on the contrary he was quite undistinctive... a little over five and half feet tall, perhaps one sixty or so pounds, a slight paunch... lined face, perhaps sixty years old... greying brown hair, still intense blue eyes... he didn't look like the sort of person who would be in charge of such a monstrous project like this one. Well... except for his clothing...it had probably been white at one time but now the surgical garb was so caked with gore that it was as stiff as plastic, stained brown and purple and dark crimson with unidentifiable bits of biological stuff stuck all over it. Lacus could smell the decay and putrefication from where she stood, more than fifteen feet away. The Doc noted her flinch. "Ah yes... I'm sorry for my appearance... I was forced to prepare for your arrival somewhat in a hurry and I accidentally grabbed my used smock rather than the clean one... but Ashino was nice enough to give you warning, I assume."

"Yes, he did. He is very polite and he is the most helpful person I've met here... if only more people were like him, I would imagine Blue Cosmos would be a far less destructive organization." Lacus replied. "I'd usually say I was pleased to make your acquiantance, but..."

"But you aren't sure just what my intentions are with regards to you, of course. No apologies necessary, dear girl. And as for Ashino... yes... he has been rather nice to you... uncharacteristicly so... he and I will be having a talk later... he might need some... evaluation."

"You're going to punish him for being nice to me and the other girls? That's..." Lacus started to protest.

"That's fraternization with the enemy, in one way of looking at it. You are his enemy, Lacus Clyne... you're a Coordinator... he was raised to kill people like you on sight. By all rights he should have nothing but loathing for you in his heart... he should want nothing more than to snap your pretty little neck... in that respect he should not be different from my greater sons, Cray and Zacharis. That he is different is cause for some concern... if my products do not perform as advertised... it reflects badly upon me... and I currently have too much bad blood between my employers and myself right now... it could be my head on the block next." the Doc cut her off. The doors opened again and the rest of the Coordinators and their friends were brought in before Lacus could reply. "Ah good... the other subjects have arrived... that is excellent. Secure the male subjects to the operating tables... bind the females to the wall restraints there on the far wall... make sure it's done properly. No... not you, Ashino... the soldiers. You stay right there, my son... you aren't in my good graces right now." The Doc ordered... voice turning harsh when Ashino started to lead Lacus over to the indiated wall. The soldiers grabbed Lacus roughly by the upper arms and dragged her over to the wall, securing her between Cagalli and Miriallia. The wall restraints held her arms close together, stretched above her head and the guards adjusted them almost painfully high... she had to stand on tiptoe or else hang from her wrists. A plastic strap was pulled tight against her throat, pulling her head back and up until her head was forced fully against the wall, and tilted up so much she had to look down in order to see straight... it was very uncomfortable. But as bad as it was for her, she was glad she wasn't strapped to a table like Kira, Athrun, Dearka and Ysak were.

The tables looked like they hadn't been cleaned in months, if not years... hardly the most antiseptic environments for surgeries. Locking plastic band restraints held the four Coordinators spread eagled upon the tables, with additional plastic band restraints on their waists, thighs, arms and necks. The tables were rotated on their supports so that the Coordinators were hanging from their straps, forced to look ahead, at the wall where the girls were secured. The guards left the room at a gesture from the Doc... the BCPU's stayed. "Zacharis... Cray... Markov... good work in recapturing them... you performed within design parameters and you accomplished your mission with alacrity. There will be rewards for this, boys. But the best things come to those who wait... so I'm going to have to ask you all to just wait a little longer while I have a nice talk with what may be your future brothers and sisters. You may wait here and listen or go about your own devices... as long as you stay nearby as I may have need of you." the Doc said, moving so all the captives could see him. None of the BCPU's left... Frost sat down in the middle of the room and stared hungrily at Lacus. Cray lounged against the wall and slowly eyed each girl up and down, obviously using his imagination to remove what clothes they had left. Ashino stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed as if in thought, though he was listening very carefully.

"What exactly did you mean by their future brothers and sisters? You aren't going to condition us into becoming freaks like them!" Ysak snarled, arms twitching as he tested his restraints. The Doc looked amused.

"First off... those restraints are designed to handle the likes of Markov and Cray... you won't be breaking out of them by physical strength alone. And as for conditioning you... well, that remains to be seen. First I must decide if you really are suitable subjects for my continued research... and then, if you are, well... everyone is defiant at the beginning... a decade from now, who can say... you might be think of me as fondly as they do." the Doc indicated the BCPU's. "Though hopefully you'll like me more... these three would probably kill me if they could."

"I can... I just... don't want to." Cray said, uncomfortable.

"I don't think I can." Ashino replied.

"I'm going to... but not yet." Frost told everyone.

"Exactly. Now... maybe you'll allow a miracle to occur and you'll do this the easy way. There's always a chance, right?" the Doc said. "But first... tell me, what do you know of the SEED factor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ysak replied.

"Me either... never heard of it." Dearka added. Kira and Athrun also indicated in the negative, as did all four of the girls... none of them had ever heard of a SEED factor.

"Ah well, I suppose I should give you a little background information then... it is always desirable to understand what you are, so then what you can do can be determined. A horse cannot shoot, because it is a horse... a human cannot fly a mobile suit unaided... because they are human. What we are determines what we can do... and what we can do determines who we are. And who we are determines where we can go. You can think of the SEED factor as something which exponentially increases the magnitude of the potential for what a person can do. And thusly exponentially increases the magnitude of the potential for who they can be... and most importantly, where they can go from there." the Doc told them.

"That sounds an awful lot to me like a Coordinator." Athrun said. "Though potential does not define who you are or what you can do or where you can go... without hard work potential means nothing."

"Potential means everything... but I'll explain that later. But no... what a Coordinator is, is a geometric increase in magnitude of potential... usually around one point five to two point five times the potential of a Natural. Even the best of the Coordinators... Ultimate Coordinators like Mr. Yamato here and my regrettable nephew up in the PLANTS... even they are limited in their potential over that of a Natural. Those who possess the SEED factor... be they Naturals or Coordinators... both have no discernable limit as yet has been discovered. They represent the next stage of human evolution... Coordinators are a step along the path to that stage... those with the SEED factor stand at the very cusp of the next stage. Can you see what I'm trying to say here? Anyone with a SEED factor has the potential to be the start of the next stage of human existence... the potential to be greater than any human ever has been... to be faster... stronger... smarter... to be everything a human is, but more so. There is only one thing holding those with the SEED factor back from achieving this wonderful next stage... you know what that is?" the Doc lectured. Everyone shook their heads. "The thing holding back those fortunate individuals is emotion... fear specifically. They are afraid of what they might become... afraid of the unknown void that stretches out before them... afraid to take the steps along the path that will lead to the recreation of humanity. And sadly, the SEED factor is almost impossibly rare... individuals possessing it are less common than diamonds growing on trees. Well... you get the idea. Anyway... if only those with the SEED factor could have their fear removed... why then there would be nothing holding back the advance of humanity to the next stage... whatever it may be. I have a few theorys on that, but that's not important right now."

"Why are you telling us this?" Kira asked, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Oh, I thought that to be obvious... I believe that you possess the SEED factor, Kira. As do you, Athrun... and you... Dearka... and you... Ysak. I believe all four of you are one of those remarkably talented individuals who can transcend to the next stage of humanity... if only your fear of the consequences could be eliminated. And aren't you lucky... I just happen to be an expert in the removal of fear from the human psyche... just ask the BCPU's here. You're not afraid of anything, are you boys?"

"Of course not." Cray said immediately.

"I AM FEAR." Frost said coldly.

"It is true... fear holds no sway over me." Ashino said slowly.

"See, straight from the mouth of the beast. Oh, of course the process isn't without its drawbacks... fear is rather hard to isolate, I'm afraid I'll have to take a great deal of your other emotions as well... just the useless stuff... love, friendship, tolerance, mercy, wistfulness, creativity... the stuff you really won't need as a next stage human." the Doc said calmly. "The transition process won't be without physical pain either, I'm sorry to say. Medical science has only come so far... it is up to the people you will become to advance it further. Some of you will almost certainly die... but that's why it is such a good thing that there are four of you... my success rate is considerably better than 25 percent. But worry not... you won't remember a thing... I'm very adept at memory wipes... I've performed several hundred so far and not a single subject has remembered anything about their past... not even when it's mentioned to them. For example..." the Doc indicated Ashino. "Tell me Markov... how old is your sister?"

"What sister?" Ashino asked blankly. The Doc took a control out of his pocket and a screen descended from the ceiling, flickering to life as it did so, to display a girl of about ten, with pale green eyes and hair the exact shade of Ashino's... it was obvious even from a glance that there was a familial resemblence between them. The photo split, to show a second picture of the same girl as a baby, perhaps two years old.

"This sister... she was just a baby when you were kidnapped off the streets of the Ukrainian town where your family lives. Surely you remember her? Or what about your two older brothers... I hear they died in the last war, heroically defending the Earth Alliance at Panama... gunned down by the Coordinators as they tried to surrender. Your father's alive though... in jail for spousal assault, but he's alive. So's your mother... back in Panama, serving as a nurse. She could die if ZAFT attacks there. How does that make you feel, Markov?" the Doc asked.

"I don't know who you're talking about. That girl... she looks like me... but I... I've never seen her before. I don't know who my mother or father are... I... what brothers? Kidnapped? What are you talking about, Doc?" Ashino asked, sincerely confused. Lacus felt her heart go out to him like it never had before... he really didn't recognize his own sister... or remember his own family. He existed in a void... a void created by the monster disguised as a human being dressed in a surgeon's smock in front of her.

The Doc smiled and made as to tip a hat at the Coordinators. "So, I'm sure that makes my point rather well... when I'm done with you, you won't even recognize each other, much less the rest of the world. You won't be you any more... you'll just be a big ball of potential to mold as I see fit. Don't worry... I'll make you into something beautiful... something artistic... something the rest of humanity will see and cower from on their knees. No doubt they will fear your potential... and try to destroy you. That is the standard response of humanity to the unknown. However... I don't believe they will succeed... one thing I never remove from my subjects is the will to live. As long as you have that, you'll always be willing to come back for more. I skirted dangerously close to removing it from Zacharis... it was necessary in order to mold him into what I needed from what he was... but look how he turned out... a perfect engine of destruction. I must admit, he is my finest work to date, the maximum a human can be. But there lies the rub... he was just a human. You can only go so far with inferior materials. By the way... have you figured out why potential is such a powerful thing, Athrun?"

"I'm sorry... I've been tuning out your mad ravings." Athrun retorted.

"Tsk... insulting me won't do you any good... you won't remember you did it." the Doc replied. "I'll spell it out for you. Potential is what has caused both this war and the last war. Potential is what the Naturals fear of us Coordinators... yes, I am a fellow Coordinator... and potential is what we Coordinators fear of the Naturals. The Naturals fear that with our potentially superior minds and bodies that we will replace them... fill their niche in the biosphere. Coordinators fear the Natural's potential to destroy anything that threatens them without thinking about it. Natural's created Coordinators seeking to better themselves... but they advanced too far too fast and they don't understand what they did. So they want to eradicate it and start again. Do over. It is potential that is the root of all problems currently assailing us... it can even be applied to your poor lambs. If you did not have the potential you did... why, you wouldn't be here at all, would you? You are partially right, Athrun... without hard work potential is an intangible rather than an absolute. However it has always been the intangible that has stirred humanities fears and hatred, rather than the absolute. Thus, can you see how the potential created by Coordinators causes the war to be? Without Coordinators there would be no intangible threat of potential... and thus no war. Humanity cannot tolerate the threat of Coordinator potential... they must respond as humanity always does... they must destroy it. There is no other possible conclusion for them... distasteful and depressing though that thought may seem."

"You seem to be saying that humanity is governed entirely by its base instincts... that is not true." Cagalli interrupted. "If that were true we'd still be living in caves and bashing each other with rocks. It is an essential component of humanity to overcome their fear of the intangible and the unknown and harness it to improve themselves. Blaming the potential of the Coordinators for the war is a little like blaming the bullet for killing someone... you cannot place the blame upon the result if the action that created it was the problem. Think about it... if humanity always reacted to destroy that which they did not understand... how could we all be here in this situation?"

"Your argument is potentially valid." the Doc said with a smile. "If you had chosen to put it in proper scale, that is. You speak on the individual level, where the choice to user the higher mind to control the instinctual parts of humanity do indeed triumph on a greater than average scale. I was speaking of humanity as a whole... you were speaking of yourself. You might be able to rise above the need to destroy that which you don't understand... or to accept it. But if we were to drop you into the middle of all of humanity... well, your higher mind would be in the minority there, wouldn't it? It is a sad fact of life... but a fact nonetheless... that people are not reasonable. Do not think for themselves... do not allow their higher minds to control what they do. Well... unless... unless you remove their fear. Which is what I do... that is why humanity is not afraid of the BCPU... they have no potential left... they have reached their maximum. There is only absolute... no intangible. Zacharis's abilities are tremendous... but they are also quantifiable... calculatable... recordable. BCPU's are what Coordinators should have been... if humanity had been thinking with their higher minds, like you say they do. However, it is the Coordinators, with their sloppy penchant for potential who were created, rather than safely maximized abilites like a BCPU possesses. You and I really aren't that different, Cagalli Yula Attha... we both looked at the problem from the perspectives of an individual, but while you chose to merely accept... I chose to do something about it. Thus the BCPUs... the true next step towards the future humanity. And thus you four... SEED Coordinators, who I will turn into BCPU's... maximizing your potential, so that humanity will have nothing to fear from you, even though your abilities will be so far beyond human that you will truly be the next stage."

"You are fucked in the head!" Ysak declared. "I've never heard such a load of bullshit in my entire life."

"You're just a screwed up mad scientist with no ethics... no morals... and no clue what a total bastard he is!" Dearka added. "You make me sick... I can't believe you are a Coordinator."

"Yes, yes, resistance is expected at first. The memory wipe will take care of most of that... the training and conditioning will supress the rest." the Doc replied. He looked at Kira and Athrun. "Either of you have anything to say? Perhaps you'd like to call me names or tell me how insane I am?"

"It wouldn't do any good... you're so far beyond the pale that reasoning with you is no longer possible." Athrun answered.

"Normally I'd be trying to talk you into realizing how little sense you are making... but I don't think that'll help in this case." Kira added.

"Ah, thinking with the higher mind... yes... we'll get rid of that quickly enough... soon I have no doubt you'll be spitting curses and expletives much like your two friends. For you see, it is just about time for me to confirm if you four really do have the SEED. But first I need to address one more question. This time I am speaking to the delightful Katie Belaruse." the Doc said, turning to face the girls. "You are an Active Newtype, are you not?"

"I am a what?" Katie asked, trying to play dumb.

"Don't play with me, girl... I recorded your sister's echo when she died." the Doc said, watching her very closely... she tried to hide it but her eyes widened and she gasped.

"I don't know what you're talking abou..." Katie started to say.

"You just gave me all the confirmation I needed, dear girl... I did not record the echo, though I wish I could have. I cannot wait to have a more in detail talk with you at a later date... its not every day you meet an Active Newtype who knows what they are. It is just too bad your sister was killed... two Active Newtypes would be a hell of a catch, don't you agree?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ysak demanded. "What are you trying to say to Katie?"

"Oh yes... she hasn't told you, has she? Or has she, but you wouldn't listen? I find that more likely. Yes... well, I suppose it is a wasted effort, since you'll be mindwiped, but I have the energy to spare...today is a very good day for me." the Doc replied. "Well, you all remember what I said earlier about the next stage of humanity? Well, there are multiple ways of reaching that next stage... evolution is not a one lane road, it is an ever changing destination that can be reached by many means... many paths... evolution is more about the journey than the actual reaching of the goal. Coordinators and BCPU's take the path of increasing physical skills and intelligence. Other paths exist... in this case, when speaking of the so called, Newtype, the path is the mutuation of the brain that allows certain abilities to be utilized... abilities that most of humanity cannot even conceive of consciously... though the concept does exist, translated from the subconscious of creative people into the pages of fantasy and science fiction novels for hundreds of years now."

"What are you saying? That Katie is a mutant?" Miriallia asked incredulously.

"Precisely... but not in the way you are thinking. She is no comic book heroine, warped by radiation or other scientific means... she was born the way she is... an accident of genetics so rare that there are likely no more than fifty or so people who possess it in all of humanity, Coordinator and Natural combined. And of those fifty or so, only a dozen at most have any concept of the abilities they have at their... potential... command. Of that dozen, one stands before us... another likely lies in state in the waste room, with an unfortunately unhealable hole in her skull and a bullet lodged somewhere in her mutated brain. Where the others are is anyones guess... they could be in the PLANTS, anywhere on Earth or the Moon... or even amongst us right here in this room. Hmm... I've been lucky so far today... why not push it a little further? Katie... you're an Active Newtype... you can sense other Newtypes, can't you? Tell me... how many people in this room are Newtypes? Active or Latent?"

"Why would I help you? I grew up in a lab, being studied like an animal by people like you! I'd sooner die than tell you anything." Katie spat.

"By which we can infer that some of you are indeed Newtypes. Otherwise, why would she try to hide information from me? It's not like I could find out by myself." the Doc said cheerfully. Katie looked crestfallen. "Don't feel bad, Katie... I've been manipulating people for decades... its a large part of my job." the Doc stepped closer to Katie. "Now... tell me who is a Newtype... and whether they are Active or Latent."

"No. I'm not going to help you." Katie replied. "Not even if you threaten to kill me... I know what kind of experiments you people do to us Newtypes... I wouldn't wish that sort of thing on Fro... on my worst enemy." Katie corrected herself, unable to bring herself not to wish it on Frost... she actually wouldn't mind if they did to him what had been done to people she'd known at the lab.

"I would never threaten to kill you, dear girl. Especially since you are the only Active Newtype I have for sure. However... you have yet to be stripped of your emotional attachements... Markov, I have need of you."

"Yes, Doc?" Ashino asked, moving over to stand by him. The Doc looked him over with a practiced sneer.

"This is your punishment for your fraternization, my boy. These females have had an adverse affect upon your mind and your conditioning. Normally I would consider your loyalty unimpeachable... but not now. Now I need some action to restore my faith in you. Pay close mind, Markov... this is a very serious test... if you fail, it will be the waste pit for you. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, Doc." Ashino replied, voice neutral.

"The Coordinator with the green eyes... Athrun Zala. Bring one of them over here. Cagalli looks a bit underfed... you will force feed it to her. If Katie doesn't fess up after that, take one from Kira next and repeat with Lacus. And then Dearka for Miriallia... and then Ysak, for Katie. If she remains resistant after that, I want you to bring me their testicles and repeat the process... the males will have no need of them here." The Doc ordered, staring into Ashino's eyes for any hint of reluctance... he could see none. "Use your bare hands. Now hop to it."

"Man... Ashino gets to have all the fun." Frost complained.

"Aye aye, Doc." Ashino turned, not even looking at Lacus, though he desperately wanted to, to somehow indicate to her how sorry he was... but he really was the sum of his parts and nothing more... he could not just ignore a direct order from the Doc... even if he did want to, on several levesl. Ashino walked over to the table where Athrun was secured. Using one hand he gripped Athrun by the hair, using two fingers to spread his left eyelid apart. He was just reaching for the wildly staring eyeball when Katie caved, much like the Doc expected her to... it really was a horrific thing to consider making your friends go through, when all you had to do to stop it was give up some information.

"Wait... wait!" Katie said. "Fine... you win. I'm an Active, you know that. Ysak is a Latent... how I'm not sure, he didn't use to be before Chanel's echo. L-Lacus is an A-Active. Kira is a Latent. Thats all."

"Aww man... you can't just stop there! You already have your hands on him! And it's not like she can take her words back if you take the eye anyway." Frost exhorted Ashino. Ashino jerked his hands away as if Athrun was made of hot metal... he was very glad he hadn't had to go through with that. "Coward." Frost commented.

"I'm a what now? What's an Active?" Lacus asked, trying to control her heaving stomach... her imagination had caused her to gag almost at once at the thought of eating an eye... especially Kira's.

"Well, well it really is a good day. Another Active and two Latents... this must be divine compensation for Asmodeus's rudeness." the Doc said, sounding amazed. "My dear Lacus, you would be one of the fifty or so who had no previous idea what you could do. And there is a lot you can do... potentially. Not all Actives have the same range of abilities, and not even a fraction of all possible abilities have yet been catalouged... I only know of the basic ones, personally. Just to name a few things would be extreme empathy for people around you... telepathy with other Actives and Latents... mental control of Actives or Latents on a limited scale... the ability to sense the minds of people, Active, Latent and Stump, which is Newtype slang for regular humans... the most esoteric I've ever heard of was an Active Newtype who could put people to sleep merely by willing it... even Stumps."

"The only problem with that was that utilizing the power caused a brain seizure and Alan slipped into catatonia right afterwards... they never did wake him back up." Katie said bitterly. "They forced him to use it, even though he didn't want to... he knew he could only make people drowsy... putting them to sleep was beyond his power."

"Oh, so you knew him? That's nice." the Doc commented. "What, pray tell, can you do, Katie? Do speak with alacrity, or I'll have Zacharis remove the eyes this time... he won't stop either."

"Chanel and I were classified as tele-empathic resonators and sensors." Katie replied, repeating the words with hatred... she never had liked being labeled like an animal.

"By which you mean the two of you could share thoughts and feelings with each other across almost any distance, regardless of the barriers between you. And you could both sense the minds of the people around you... what's your radius?"

"Chanel was more practiced than me... she could do almost a half mile... I can only do a few hundred feet."

"And you can beepcall, of course."

"Yes..." Katie confirmed.

"Well, this IS exciting. Could you beepcall me?" the Doc asked. Katie glared at him hatefully.

"You're a Stump. You might hear a buzz if I tried really hard... but I'm not going to... I'm very tired and the effort could hurt me."

"Can you tell what kind of abilities Lacus has?"

"No... there was an Active back at the old lab... Eileen... she could have done a deep scan and found out, but I don't know how... I'd probably end up blowing out both our minds if I tried."

"What are you talking about?" Kira said. "I'm not following anything you're saying. I'm a Latent? What's that?"

"The details are beyond the scope of the time we have together, Kira. You'll need to be memory wiped before you can get the story also, I'm afraid. But suffice it to say, for your current curiosity, that a Latent is a human with an extraordinary sensitivity to the powers of an Active Newtype. They are generally people who are very emotionally sensitive, but not always is this so. If an Active is a lightbulb then a Latent is a photocell... they have power of a sort, but only when illuminated by an Active. In practical terms, you can be beepcalled, you can be controlled telepathically with effort, and you are generally much easier to influence than an Stump... the unfortunate Alan that Katie knew could have probably put a Latent so deeply asleep they would not wake without outside stimulus for the same amount of effort which caused his seizure. Latents also tend to resonate with each other... not quite beepcalling, but you do tend to get a feeling when another Latent is around... most often when they are thinking of you and you them, assuming you know them. Maybe you've experienced such a thing?" the Doc answered.

"Maybe." Kira replied softly, thinking of the last battle of Jachin Due... the almost subconscious warnings he gotten when fighting Rau. Mu claimed at one point to be able to feel when Rau was around... maybe that was this... Latent whatever. And then there was the vision he'd had of Flay after she'd been killed... he dearly wanted to ask about that, but he didn't want this monstrous Doc to be the one to answer that question for him.

The Doc looked at his watch. "How time flies when you're having fun... my BCPU's will have to be leaving for the front soon... by this time tomorrow,given their intervention, Australia and Carpentaria will no longer be a threat to humanity... and neither will the PLANTS. But you don't need to worry about that... you'll be on our side by that time. Now for the moment of truth... the moment when you prove my hypothesis to me and prove you four really are SEEDs. Its theorized that those with the SEED can call upon their potential at will... but I don't think I'm that lucky. No... you'll need to be stimulated into it. And we're in luck... there is a stimulus for each of you, secured quite conveniently to this wall right here." the Doc said. Zacharis stood up and Cray stopped leaning against the wall, both had ravenous expressions on their faces. "Patience, boys, patience. Markov has yet to finish his penance... an uncompleted order cannot stand in lieu of the test. You didn't think it was that easy, did you, Markov?" the Doc asked Ashino, who was staring to look uncomfortable. "Of course not... you don't think except when I want you to... that's right, isn't it?"

"Of course, Doc." Ashino forced himself to reply. He hated this powerlessness... any other man he could have refused... but the Doc... the Doc had a hold over him no other man did... he couldn't help himself...despite telling his body not to move, it was starting to move anyway. Ashino knew he was going to despise himself forever for doing this... but it would be easier to stop the world from turning with his bare hands than to not follow the order... whatever it was.

"Good... very good, Markov. You're doing well so far... only a few more points until you pass. You can begin with Lacus. She's an Active Newtype... her brain is what's important... don't hit her in the head... other than that... break bones... split flesh... I'm a doctor... I'll tell you when she's had enough."

"Don't you dare! If you lay a single hand on Lacus... I'll...!" Kira trailed off, feeling the anger welling up inside him. He tried to fight it... he was being manipulated into this... being forced to display the SEED... but if he didn't... if he didn't... he'd have to watch Lacus get hurt in front of him... without doing anything to stop it. He didn't think he could take that.

"No." Ashino suddenly said, planting both feet firmly on the ground and hugging himself tightly to occupy his arms. "No... I won't. This isn't what I was designed for. I... I'm built... I'm built to kill the enemy. She is not the enemy. I... I won't... I won't beat a helpless girl... not... not even if she... if she... if she... is a Coordinator. Not even... not even for... for you... you... Doc. Especially... not for you, Doc." Ashino had to fight his conditioning for every word. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done... it hurt worse than all of his operations combined. It felt like his brain was melting and running down out of his skull... he belatedly realized his nose was bleeding. His body was physically rebelling against his mind... the result of years of hypnotic suggestion and conditioning... it was built into his psyche to follow the Doc's orders unconditionally... refusing was throwing his systems out of whack... disrupting the flow of blood and vital fluids to some systems, activating others when there was no need, shutting down still others. It was terrible... he fell to floor, shaking violently.

"You refuse?" the Doc asked mildly. Ashino coughed in agony and nodded. The Doc's face softened. 'My boy... Markov... as a man who once had a family, I can respect your choice. As a man, you have made me proud. As a father, you have made me proud. As a Coordinator... you have made me proud. However..." the Doc's face turned thunderous. "... As a scientist your actions are the EXACT OPPOSITE of making me proud! And a scientist is what I am, first and foremost... you're a big disappointment, Markov. A big disappointment! I'd thought you beyond such human failings... apparenty I let you have too much leash... I'd always enjoyed our little arguments, your naivete... but the buck stops here, so to say. You've got a one way trip to the waste pit, my boy. I'll remember your failings and keep them out of the next batch." the Doc turned away from Ashino. "In any case, I guess you won't be doing much but lie there for the moment... the countermeasures against disobediance I installed into every last one of you BCPU's look to be doing their job, at the least. You can watch what consequences your refusal has for the people you just chose to side with. Zacharis!"

"I am so here, Doc. I am so here and so ready!" Frost replied immediately.

"Miss Lacus has a respite... she's a Newtype and I need to study her first... you can have miss Cagalli right now though. I don't need any part of her. You can even have this scapel." the Doc handed over the tiny razor sharp blade.

"You sick bastard." Cagalli accused, twisting to no avail in her restraints. Athrun didn't say anything... he just watched, his eyes like frozen emeralds. Frost looked back at him and met that gaze... met that gaze and waved cheerily.

"I'll be thinking of you, bro. Just think... I'll be going where no one but you has ever gone before. And you all get to watch. The Doc really is a nice man, isn't he?" Frost taunted. He started to bring the scapel down towards Cagalli's throat.

"Cray... you can have Miriallia... I don't need her either. Come to think of it... as long as you don't beat them too much... you can have any of them that Frost doesn't take... your pleasures are noticably less final than his." the Doc allowed.

"Oh, I heartily believe in the value of a good bout of terminal sex... but I can keep that nasty side of me down for the moment... the rest of me is pretty far up right now to compensate." Cray replied wickedly. "Do I get a scapel too?"

The potentially vile scene was not allowed to progress any further. Pushed beyond the edge of remit by the eminent harm of the people that meant more to them than their own lives... more to them than the lives of everyone else in the world, truth be told... four seperate Coordinators saw four seperate seeds... one purple, one green, one blue and one yellow. Four seperate Coordinators saw the selfsame four seeds slowly fall through the whirling darkness enveloping their minds, saw them touch bottom and gently bounce back up. Four SEED capable Coordinators saw four SEEDs break in terrible but beautiful flashes of light... four pairs of blank, washed out and dully colored eyes stared out at the people threatening their loves. The shattering of the mental tension in their air was palpable... even to the non-Newtypes. To Katie it was like four seperate bonfires alighting from nowhere... she was forced to look away, even though that did nothing to shield her mental sense. Even Lacus found herself blinking as if she'd just looked into four especially bright camera flashes... she didn't know how or why, but suddenly Kira and the other guys seemed to almost be glowing... or something. It was hard to make out what was real and what not... she felt delirious, her mind overfilled by all the information from the Doc and the events of the days prior. Not to mention the very real threat to her health and body being posed by Cray. She actually felt like she really was going to faint.

"I do believe we've done it, gentlemen. We have achieved ignition, achieved a self sustaining emotional reaction." the Doc said, small tears of joy running down his cheeks. "It's beautiful... don't worry, keep up the pressure, boys... those restraints will hold them till the sky falls... they're just Coordinators."

"That is the last time you're ever going to say "Just Coordinators"." Ysak promised. He jerked at his restraints... they shook but they were designed to give slightly under pressure and he could not gather the leverage to break them... not even with the feeling of uncontrollable rage and focused intent burning through him.

"That's the last time you're going to say anything." Kira added. The Doc was right... the restraints could not be broken out of... but that didn't mean they couldn't be slipped... he braced himself because this was going to hurt no matter how hyped he was. He jerked himself to the side, moving the restraints just enough to give him the room to dislocate his right shoulder and arm while simultaneously dislocating his right wrist, causing the entire limb to go as limp as a rag. He dragged it out of the restraints and rolled back, popping the shoulder joint back into place, then jamming the wrist hard against the table to do the same for it. He had been right... it did hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt so much he couldn;t see for the pain. But it didn't hurt so much that it stopped him. Not even close. He heard a series of loud pops from Athrun's direction... he'd hit on the same desperate ploy. With one arm free, it was a simple matter to pull the restraints apart... he tore his hands up pretty good on the hard plastic, but that mattered less than not at all right now. Only one thing mattered... saving Lacus. Everything else was secondary. The Doc had just started to turn around when Kira dropped to the floor... the entire escape had taken perhaps two seconds. The Doc was opening his mouth to order the BCPU's, who were still focused on their almost beginning fun, when Kira ripped the restraints from Dearka's arms while Athrun did the same for Ysak.

"Oh... dear lord..." the Doc managed to gasp.

"What'd you say, Doc?" Cray asked, one hand inching lower on Miriallia's belly, the other caressing her face as she tried to bite his fingers, much to his amusement.

"He said... TAKE YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MIR!" Dearka shouted, burying his foot squarely in Cray's ass, throwing the BCPU forward to crash headfirst into the steel wall. Dearka did not stop there, he grabbed the stunned Cray and physically dragegd him away from the wall, throwing him into the center of the room by main force alone. Athrun and Kira had combined to grab Frost from behind and toss him likewise... millimeters before the scapel had cut Cagalli's throat. Frost landed heavily on one of the tables, actually denting the metal surface. Ysak wasted no time and no effort in slapping the Doc aside... the older Coordinator landed with a wet snap, his left arm bent at a very unnatural angle. Meanwhile the other Coordinators had freed the girls and had faced off with the BCPU's again. Again the BCPU's got the short end of the stick... Dearka landed on Cray with both feet quite literally, and rammed his head into a computer terminal for effect, leaving the BCPU with his head stuck through a screen while he tried to regain his center of balance. Athrun and Kira double teamed Frost again, coming at him from either side, punching and kicking and grabbing him together, then picking him up and running him into a huge bank of machinery. Frost cut them up a bit with the scapel while they did it... but they ignored the bleeding cuts like they ignored his punches... even though they landed like hammer blows. They helped tip the bank of machinery over on top of the dazed Frost, pinning him to the floor under nearly sixteen hundred pounds of circuit boards and steel. They wasted no further time... each guy proceeded to collect their respective girl... though they really needed no collecting, they were perfectly happy giving the Doc a good kicking... and they ran for the doors.

"Get them! Bring them back!" the Doc cried hoarsely, fighting the agony of his broken arm and cracked ribs... speaking around shattered teeth and bruised flesh... the girls hadn't had long to work out their feelings on him, but their motivation could not be faulted... they'd made extremely good use of the few seconds they'd had. Ashino jumped up... he could follow that order with no qualms... though he wondered what he'd do if he actually caught up with the enemy this time. He didn't let himself think about it... he raced after them... not bothering to trigger the security alarm... the Doc hadn't told him to, after all. Cray yanked his head out of the screen, leaving a few pieces of plastic stuck in his face as he did so. His growl was a terrible animal thing... a beast of prey goaded in its lair with a sharp stick. He'd bring them back all right... he'd bring them back in pieces. The Doc hadn't said anything about bringing them back alive. Frost just shifted slightly underneath his bank of machinery. He'd join the pursuit later... his instincts were telling him that the opportunity he'd been waiting for for so long was finally at hand... all he had to do was wait to be left alone with the Doc. And then he was... Cray ran from the room... there was only silence and the sound of the Doc gasping in pain. Frost smiled broadly... today was a good day. A good birthday.

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Author Note: I appreciate those of you who've given me reviews... TheJackOfDiamonds in particular. Getting encouraging remarks is remarkable incentive to keep writing. However, next time you comment on a chapter, my good reviewers, I'd appreciate it if you'd do me a slight favor. Nothing much... I just want to know which character is your favorite and why. A sentence or two is all I ask, though feel free to go into as much detail as you like. It'd also be nice if you could mention any characters you think I'm either neglecting, overly misrepresenting or that you just plain don't like. And a reason for that choice too. Thanks in advance, it'll be very enlightening.


	59. The Enemy

Franklin Borander swore softly to himself as the entire left side of his body started to flare up with pain. Ysak had body checked him violently to the side... the Doc was a great number of years past the time in his life when he could have accepted such a hit with no serious consequences... emminently superior genetics or not, his bones were starting to get fragile. It didn't help that he'd spent the last decade or so down in this lab, with barely any bit of exercise... his diet wasn't always so healthy either... snacks and such grabbed on the go while he worked furiously on one of the many projects that made up the greater project JIHAD. Truth be told, looking back at it in retrospect, the Doc was sort of surprised he hadn't suffered a serious injury or illness earlier... he'd certainly been asking for one. He was the oldest fourth generation Coordinator... he needed to start watching himself. His lifespan may extend into the second century, but only if an accident or illness didn't do him in first... with proper exercise and commitment like what his youngest brother Jeremiah got, he would be able to keep playing physical sports past his hundred and sixtieth birthday... if and when such a time came. The doc privately didn't think he'd live too much more than ten more years... eventually his employers would decide he wasn't useful anymore and he'd go the way of the failed BCPUs... a one way trip to the bottom of the mountain waste pit. Speaking of failed BCPUs... it was too bad about Ashino. He'd certainly been the most likeable of the three high grade BCPU's... the most human, the most personable... the only one he'd ever had an enjoyable conversation with... of corse it was precisely for those reasons that his failure had likely come about... the Doc had been treating him too much like a human, going counter to his own conditioning... he was starting to really treat Ashino like a son, rather than just a creation. It was hard... sometimes they really did seem human... well, not Zacharis... but even Cray had moments when he was just like a big goofy looking teenager, like any other in the world.

Franklin grimaced as he slowly sat up... his left arm was definitely broken... a large fracture along the tibia and maybe extending up the humerus... very painful. And then there was the rest of his hurts... several ribs felt cracked, he was bleeding from nose and lips, his entire torso and upper legs were deeply bruised and he'd lost at least two teeth... damned teenage girls had worked him over pretty hard. Doc supposed he couldn't blame them... he'd have been pretty upset at being treated like that too. That was his problem... he had too much empathy for his subjects... he'd need to work on that in the future. Right now though, he needed to do what he could to prevent the escape of the subjects and then he needed to get himself into medical care. He reached into the pocket of his trousers, under the smock. He frowned deeply... his cell phone was not in its accustomed place. He patted himself down thoroughly, biting his lip in agony as the motion caused his left arm to slip and the fracture to grind slightly. He started swearing... softly and first but gradually growing louder and louder until he was soon swearing at the top of his lungs, in as inventive a manner as he could manage. His cell phone wasn't on him... it must have been knocked loose when Ysak charged him, or when the girls were kicking him. He looked around and swore even louder. "FUCKING BITCHES!" the cellphone was not anywhere around him... it didn't take a genius of his caliber to deduce that one of the girls had taken it. If they could figure out how to operate it, they'd have the keys to the entire facility in their hands. And he didn't doubt they'd be able to figure it out... those four Coordinators had the SEED... their abilities were magnified by a tremendous amount... figuring out the disguised cell phone would be a snap for them in their current state. Which meant that unless the three BCPU's got lucky and managed to catch up before they left sub level six, the subjects would likely make it out of the facility... and once they were outside in the Andes then it would be exponentially more difficult to track them down and recapture them. His day had been so perfect before... the Doc quietly bemoaned his bad luck and wondered what else fate would do to him to further his misery. He didn't have long to wait to find out.

With a grunt and a heave the sixteen hundred pound bank of test equipment that had fallen over on top of Zacharis was flipped upwards so hard it slammed into the ceiling and cracked in half. The pieces rained down onto empty floor. The Doc started... he'd thought Zacharis was already in pursuit of the subjects... he hadn't specifically seen him leave but Zacharis was fast enough and the Doc had been distracted enough that he'd never thought twice of it... Zacharis was usually more than eager to pursue enemies... especially these particular enemies. The Doc looked around the room and started again, groaning as his left arm slipped a little more. Zacharis was standing not more than five feet away, just staring at him. The bloody welts from where he'd been hit with submachine gun fire were already starting to heal over, the healing flesh pushing the bullets out of the dents they'd inflicted. It made the Doc smile proudly for a moment... any physician or biometrist could have thought up the blood coagulant that all BCPU's sported... when exposed to the oxygen in air their blood rapidly solidified and became a hard, leather like crust, allowing them to survive terrible wounds with relative ease... he'd cut several fully in half and they'd lived for days before dying of fever, not blood loss. But Frost was more advanced than that... not only did his blood coagulate with frightening speed, but his body actually replaced the cells which made it up at an extremely accelerated rate... over fifty times faster than a normal human... maybe not enough to just heal massive gunshot wounds just like that, but enough to erase relatively minor damage with ease. The process burned a lot of energy, but Frost was also equipped with mechanisms that allowed him to store far more energy than just the fat on his body would normally allow. The accelerated healing process remained dormant much of the time, only activating when the internal computers wired into Frost's hardware detected damage to the host body.

"Aren't you going to pursue them, Zacharis? I don't care about Cagalli or Miriallia... you can kill them if you catch them. When you catch them. I'm touched by your concern for my welfare, but I'll be fine... you go and hunt them down and bring them back for me, my son." the Doc ordered firmly.

"What is my purpose?" Frost asked suddenly, without turning or even blinking.

"What... what is your...? Zacharis... that's not important right now... what IS important is the return of my test subjects. You want a purpose? Your purpose is to bring them back. RIGHT NOW!" the Doc commanded furiously.

"You said you had a long term purpose for me. What is that purpose?" Zacharis did not move from where he stood.

"God damn... you listen to me you little freak!" the Doc snarled. "When I give you an order you follow it! Do you hear me? Go and get them!" the Doc paused. Frost just stared at him. "Fine... you want to do things the hard way... Activate cranial reciever: activate pain sequence four, run ten seconds." the Doc commanded, activating the voice receptive software installed into Frost for just such sitautions as this... the Doc could cause Frost pain, knock him out or even blow him up, just by saying the right command word. It was a large reason why the Doc never had felt very threatened by Frost... he could be erased with a single word... no amount of muscle or power or speed could compensate for that. Maximized potential... nothing to fear.

Zacharis twitched a minute fraction... as much as a person might if a gnat suddenly flew past their ear unexpectedly. No more. He smiled at the Doc. "Please don't... it hurts. It really hurts. It really hurts about as much as every single last step I've taken all day long. If that is the worst you can do to me, I've had less than nothing to fear from you for even longer than I suspected."

The Doc stared in disbelief... raw agony was flooding down every one of Frost's nerves... this sequence was programmed to simulate the pain of being burned alive. Even a BCPU should be quivering in a ball on the ground, twisting with excrutiation... Ashino had been disabled merely by the automatic implants... Frost was of course superior but he shouldn't have been that much superior. This was a problem... one he needed to correct as soon as possible. If Frost suddenly gained the notion that he was autonomous from the Doc and Blue Cosmos... the thought didn't bear thinking about. The Doc knew that he was a monster with no soul... he'd destroyed the lives of countless people in a way far worse than the physical death and pain Frost delighted in. But he wasn't such a monster as to turn his greatest creation loose onto the world as a wild cannon... the sheer magnitude of the destruction would be horrific to every sense... especially if Frost managed to get to the Fury. "Activate sleep sequence, codeword: Nappy Time." the Doc ordered. Frost swayed, his eyes blinking... blinking until finally they slid shut, like great iron gates slowly descending to seal off a fortress. Frost remained standing but his breathing became deep and regular. The Doc breathed a sigh of relief... the situation had been saved by his forethought. He hadn't been sure for a moment there... he'd feared that Zacharis's biology adapting to the implants might have queered some of his safety protocols... it had looked like Frost was actually fighting the command rather than just switching off into deep REM sleep like he was programmed to. The Doc ran his good hand through his hair and started to turn to head towards his private elevator. Until Frost started laughing. Laughing in his sleep.

"Oh... oh Doc." Frost said, smiling even wider than before. His eyes remained shut and his breathing remained that of a sleeping person. "You built me to be governed by my instincts... to disregard all my higher reasoning, to ignore even the thought of preserving my own life... and you think that merely putting me to sleep solves anything? I cannot tell the difference between my waking moments and my sleeping moments any more... I haven't been able to since the level six surgery. Everything is the same nightmare to me... the same living hell of suffering and delirium and captivity and anger and lust and denial. You made me like this... a creature controlled by his own subconscious... a subconscious you twisted to be as evil as you could, because evil was what was needed to fit the bill your masters wanted. Or maybe you did it for your own twisted reasons... I personally don't care." Frost moved so that he was facing the Doc again... moving as surely with his eyes closed as open. Franklin supposed he oughten't to have been surprised... Frost lived down here, he probably had the entire room memorized.

"What do you want? What are you planning?" the Doc asked, backing away cautiously. He didn't doubt for a moment that his life was in deadly peril. If only he could get to the elevator... once the doors on that shut he'd be safe. But the elevator was in another room... dozens of meters away... he doubted he could make it before Frost chased him down, even blind. Or more accurately, asleep.

"I just want you to tell me what my purpose is. Be a dad for once and tell your son something he actually wants to know." Frost replied.

"Why do you want to know?" the Doc asked, his mind racing for a good solution to this... if only he could call for help... even a normal soldier would be able to distract Frost long enough for the Doc to get a good head start on the way to the elevator. But all the guards as well as his other BCPU's were all upstairs, on the other levels. Even the BCPU's in training were out of reach... all in simulations or exercises, none were due for a surgery, he'd cleared the schedule for his escaped subjects.

"I've killed people, Doc. I've killed dozens of people... scores... maybe even hundreds. I hope hundreds. I've killed for the fun of it. I've killed to make the pain go away. I've killed because I was told, because I was tired of it all and just for the pure hell of it. I've killed because I hate and because I lust and because I have to... in order to justify my existence... to prove I exist. I cannot tell if I'm asleep or awake... if my actions are real or not. So I kill people... when they die and blood and organs go everywhere and other people run away... I know I'm awake. When they just sit there and laugh at me no matter how I chop them or twist them... I'm asleep. I think. I can't tell and don't really care. I kill for every reason... except that I really have none. I want to know what's driving me to kill... I know I have a purpose... I know I'm meant for something... why else would have I been built? And don't tell me I was built to kill Coordinators... that is a side benefit... you built me for something else. I know it."

"What'll you do if I do tell you?" the Doc asked, his voice calm. He'd known this moment would come someday... Frost was right on the mark, of course. The Doc had made him what he was because that was what Cervantes had desired... a consumate killer with no morals or ethics or even mind to call his own. He'd been able to comply with everything but the lack of a mind... the human mind is surprisingly hard to get rid of. But the Doc had also made him for two other important reasons. One was to prove that he could. The other was that he intended Frost for a great thing. He'd always imagined himself imparting the knowledge of this great destiny to Frost at some point in the future... some cloudy date that always got pushed further and further away. He never thought he'd do it in the middle of his own wrecked lab, with a broken arm and other hurts, confronted by a rebellious Frost who was very likely going to kill him in a very violent manner no matter what the Doc said.

"I'll kill you of course. I'll kill you in the most horrible, painful and wretched way I can. You knew that before you asked."

"And what will you do if I don't tell you?" the Doc countered.

"I'll do the same thing. And then I'll kill myself too. And all your work on me will have been for nothing... who knows, the war might even be lost over it, especially if those Coordinators escape Cray and Ashino." Frost replied. His eyes flickered open and stayed open... he'd overcome the sleep command. The Doc snorted a laugh... trust Frost to know how to strike to the very heart of the matter... to leave him with no choice at all.

"And if I said... activate self destruct sequence, codeword: Denied Destiny?" the Doc asked, throwing himself down behind one of the operating tables, screaming in pain as his arm jarred painfully, the edges of the fracture tearing through the skin. There was a wet sound, like a fork punched through a side of meat. But no ear shattering explosion. The Doc swore... how could the explosives packed into Frost's heart armoring failed to detonate? They should have blasted him into a cloud of burnt bone shards and vaporized blood... but that hadn't happened. Frost started laughing again.

"You really should hide your detonation circuit somewhere better... the heart is actually a surprisingly unprotected organ, even in me." Frost stepped into view. The scapel the Doc had given him earlier to use on Cagalli protruded from his chest, with quickly hardening blood welling up around it. "I figured out where the activation module was months ago... I just needed to the proper tool, which could pentrate my skin and reinforced organs easily enough, but wasn't so big that the wound would not close in time to prevent me killing myself. I'd thought to use a large needle... but a scapel is a suitable substitute. All I had to do was stop my heart from beating long enough for the cut to coagulate... a trick you installed in me, by the way... and the end result is one severed detonation node and one very alive Zacharis Frost." Frost yanked the scapel from his chest and eyed the Doc meaningfully. "And now that you are out of little tricks, don't you think it's about time you started talking... "dad"?"

The Doc lay back and chuckled. His life was over. Why not do a decent thing for once? Why not? He looked up at the ceiling blankly. "I was going to tell you this anyway... sometime. When you were older. I don't know. Do you know why I chose you for my program, Zacharis?" the Doc asked. Frost came over and sat next to him, idly poking the Doc on the side with the scapel, just hard enough to make an incision each time. The Doc ignored the papercut like stings... he would probably have to endure far worse before he was done with his story.

"You know I don't... you were right to boast about your skills at mind wiping."

"Ah well, that's true. Well, there was always a few reasons why I chose anyone for a BCPU canidate... Ashino I chose because his unchild like solemnity impressed me from a distance. Cray I chose because he was already a homicidal little thing... did you know that he'd killed his own younger brother by cutting him to pieces with a kitchen knife at the tender age of nine?"

"I knew there was a reason Cray and I got along so well together."

"And it doesn't end there... his older sister caught him during the act and turned him in to the police... he escaped charges by pleading insanity and because he was a child... five months later the sister turned up at a hospital emergency room, poisoned from being force fed a large quantity of duct cleaning solution and with her skull and pelvic bones smashed in by a baseball bat. The bat was still embedded in her... well, you know how Cray is with girls. She lived, but she has never awoken from the coma and is in truth paralyzed from the neck down. She's twenty four now. I thought Cray would be a perfect canidate for my program... he already had the killer's instinct I was trying so hard to fabricate in you BCPU's. And even better he was easily controllable... his father had been abusive and he really wanted a good father who'd be nice to him... give him treats and call him a good boy. Once I did that he was mine forever more... especially now that I provide for his sex drive as well, which is really his governing factor."

"Enough about Cray... you were going to talk about me?" Frost encouraged, slicing the scapel deeper along the Doc's flank, drawing a rivulet of blood this time, which Frost caught playfully on the razor edge, flicking it off in tiny sparkling droplets and watching the spray patterns.

"... I was getting to that." the Doc gasped slightly. "You... initially I passed you over for the program, Zacharis. You were the sweetest little thing... the gentlest and most lovable child I'd ever seen. The first time I ever laid eyes upon you, you were playing with a pair of baby pups, barely weeks old, while the tolerant old bitch dog lolled nearby, confident you meant her babies no harm. And you didn't... not once did you even tweak a nose, much less pull a tail or rub them the wrong way. You were all of two years old then... not much bigger than a babe born. That was your problem, I learned later. Your father and mother were Naturals... they died in a vehicle accident fourteen years ago, when you were four. But I'll get to that in time. The entire rest of your family are Coordinators, Zacharis. Except you. Your mother wanted a natural child for once... she was sick of the hoops you had to jump through at the time to bear a Coordinator. Your father just plain couldn't afford the treatments... bearing a Coordinator is not cheap you know... especially when you've already raised three of them. Your older sister and two older brothers are still alive, if you care, which I'm sure you don't. They work as civil engineers in the Orb Self Defense Force... or whatever Orb's military is these days. But getting back to your problem... your parents genetics did not combine well in you... children born to them naturally... specifically you... had a whole host of defects. Dwarfism... weak heart... weak liver... stunted muscles... shriveled brain... by all accounts you should have died at birth, if it weren't for the miracles of modern medicine. But your parents loved you, Zacharis... they paid the prohibitive cost for the medical treatments to keep you alive and healthy... even though it drove them from the middle upper class down into the poorhouse to do it."

"I don't care about my past or my stupid dead parents. Get to the purpose." Zacharis interrupted, plunging the scapel into the Doc so deeply only the handle remained above the skin. This wound bled much more freely, and Frost started cutting channels in the Doc's flesh to guide the vital fluid on its path to the floor.

"... The... the past is... necessary. For the purpose." the Doc gasped. "Be... careful. Zacharis. I-I might not last to give you the story if you keep that up."

"Then speak faster."

"Your parents paid the costs for four years... four years of bills and loans and eventual bankruptcy. Four years in which they and your siblings loved you with all their hearts. Four years which ended in a single night... when a drunk driver ran a traffick signal in his expensive sports car and rammed your family's van right off the road and down a steep hill... this was before automatic cars and such. The drunk survived... he's a politician in Orb now, Unato Seiren something or other is his name. He was saved by the very safe crash protection system his car mounted... barely a scratch on him. You family's van was not so blessed... the car burst into flames and rolled down the hill with no airbags whatsoever... a design defect I understand. Side on collisions were not expected by the designers. In any case, your mother and father died... your father by the impact and your mother by the flames. By the time rescuers had pulled your siblings and you from the wreckage, your sister and two brothers had sustained internal injuries which left them unconscious and unresponsive for nearly a year afterwards... injuries sustained shielding you from harm I later found out. You were made a ward of the state." the Doc took a deep breath... a slightly halting one since Frost had not ceased his idle ministrations. "I took you from the ward... from the warden who preyed upon the children he was supposed to care for... a more disgusting man I've rarely met... I hope you kill him someday. I took you because you were a challenge... if I could make someone as flawed as you into a BCPU... I could do it to anyone."

Frost paused a moment in his cutting... the Doc's clothing was getting soaked and sticking to the skin around his work area and he had to tear it away. "If I was such a nice baby, why am I like this? I can tell you... I don't have any gentle emotions in me... if those puppies were here now I would crush them like grapes... just to feel it."

"Because I pulled out all the stops to make you. I ignored every humanitarian protocol, broke every rule I'd previously set, exceeded every limit, moral and ethical that I could conceive of. I wasn't a nice person before... a nice person wouldn't make BCPU's. But it was the making of you that made me a real monster... a monster worse than you are. Because you don't create people like you... you just kill people."

"I wouldn't mind a wife... do you think I could bring Pink around to my point of view?"

"I think you could extinguish the sun by spitting on it first." the Doc chuckled. "Just kill her and be done with it... consign yourself to loneliness, Zacharis... no one will ever love you again. Not even me... I may have created you, but I don't love you. You're an object to me. An object in which I have placed hopes and dreams and so much more work than you can ever imagine... but an object nonetheless." the Doc looked Frost directly in the eyes. "I've mindwiped you on four seperate occasions... the things I've done to you required that I do so, lest you have killed me long ago. I tortured you to the brink of death... I made you beg for more... I shattered your personality... let you think you'd recovered it... and then shattered it again. I destroyed you... and reincarnated you from your own ashes. Not literally, but in all but reality. I cannot even list all the terrible, terrible soul rending things I've done to you... things which make the sort of death you have planned for me look like something someone as kind and innocent as you used to be would think of."

"You're making me horny, Doc... I want some details."

The Doc glared at Frost. "That was inappropriate... I'd thought I'd taught you better than that."

"You thought a lot of things... many of which you were mistaken about. But get on with the story of the purpose... and quicken it up a bit... thinking of Pink reminds me that I've still got plans for her... plans this little talk is delaying."

The Doc sighed and grimaced as Frost started cutting across a wider area now... it felt like his skin was being peeled back layer by layer, but he forced himself not to look. "I did all those things to you... and I succeeded. You are my greatest creation to date... my greatest creation period, now. I completely reversed your personality... everything you were not before, you are now and vice versa. I took the kindest, gentlest, nicest, most sweet child I'd ever encountered... and I turned him into you. I was so proud of myself. And of you... I've always been proud of you, Zacharis, don't doubt that. Just look at you... the only person I've ever seen with a soul more stained and blackened and withered than yours... well, I see his face in the mirror every morning. But enough about the past and me... if I don't tell you your purpose soon, I doubt I'll be able to, right?"

"Your guess is as good as mine... I'd give you roughly three more minutes before I get bored." Frost replied, running his thumb along the exposed edge of the Doc's right hip bone which he'd excavated layer by layer from the flesh around it.

"Initially I designed and built you just to see if I could, like I said before." the Doc said, his eyes becoming distant... whether from introspection or blood loss Frost couldn't tell. "But it was while I was making you, when I started to look at myself and realized what I'd become... a monster who turned children into pet monsters... it was then I conceived of your real purpose. Your real purpose, Zacharis. Can you guess what it is?"

"You know I can't! If I could you'd be dead!"

"Of course... I forgot, forgive me. Everything's getting pretty distant... your scapel is doing your intentions justice. You have a fine hand... you could be a doctor any day." the Doc said, eyes blurring and his vision starting to narrow before he shook it off. "Your purpose... your purpose Zacharis. Your purpose... its to flay the world. To show the world just how evil humanity can be... to what lengths it will go to in order to preserve itself... that it will utterly rob one of its own of everything that makes him a human... just so they can maintain their humanity. That they can and will take children from their parents, kidnap them off the street, take them into a project that erases their minds and reconfigures them into the most dangerous killers the world has ever known. You must rip them bare... pile high the reapings of corpses... build pyres and pyramids from the dead... show them how wrong they were to allow you to ever be created. In short... your purpose is to inflict yourself upon the world... in order that it recognize what a terrible mistake you are... in order to ensure that your like is never created again. Your purpose... is to be war... to become fear... to embody hatred... to represent all the evil humanity has in its depths. Your job... your life... your purpose... is to be the most hated and reviled being to ever live. When you achieve that... and your very name becomes as a curse upon the living... when all of humanity stands united against you, with the single intent to wipe you from existence... thats when you will have realized your destiny. You are humanity's true judge... their jury... their executioner. It falls to you who is not human to show humanity what they're lacking... you are the peacemaker... the true peacemaker... the man who is not, who will unite all men and women... Naturals... Coordinators... Newtypes... everyone will be united against you. And they will defeat you. And in defeating you... the evil enemy of all, the greatest single threat humanity has ever encountered... peace will finally be attained... the brotherhood forged during the conflict will endure and humanity will advance together... confident they can conquer any monster, defeat any obstacle, as long as they work together. That is your destiny, my boy. My son. Zacharis Frost... the man who will forge humankind's unity... in the fires of mutual fear and hatred." the Doc started gasping and choking... Frost had gotten so caught up in the fervor of the Doc's voice... so excited by the revelation of such a worthy purpose, that he'd slipped both his hands into the cuts he'd made and had been tearing away unconsciously at the inside of the Doc... he'd perforated several major organs and displaced a lung before he'd realized what he'd done. Frost withdrew his hands and studied them as if seeing them for the first time.

"I like it. I like everything you said. Except for a few modifications... I don't intend to be defeated. I will unite all of humanity against me... I will judge their worthiness against me. And I will find them wanting. And I will destroy them. All of them. I may lose a fight... I may fall and burn... but ever will I rise again and prove to them that there is always a greater monster, lurking just beneath the surface of the last one. I will show them their evil... manifested in me. I will reflect upon them their hatred... feed upon their fear... sow war like blood from my veins. I will give them a holocaust the likes of which has never been imagined. The very world will die in my grip. I will face the united humanity and I will best them... I will cast humanity's star from the heavens and crush it beneath my heel. And once I do that...once I do that... I will have realized my destiny and fufilled my purpose. Then... I can die too and it will be like there never was anything." Frost looked at the Doc with new eyes. "I never knew you had such vision in you... I could almost hug you."

"Why don't you... why don't you give your father a proper send off? My family cannot do it... unless... you'd honor me by considering me family? A family of monsters, perhaps?" the Doc replied, coughing blood and bits of lung.

"I won't do it for my father... I have no father. He's dead, you said... and besides, only humans have fathers. I will show my appreciation to my creator though." Frost slithered forward and wrapped his arms around the Doc, standing up and pulling the Doc up with him. He rested his chin on the Doc's shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for my purpose. You should have told me sooner, you bastard... but thank you."

"One... one more thing, my boy." the Doc whispered. "Remember this word. It will be of use to you. When next your hear this word... know... know...know that you must attain... attain what... ... ... what it signifies." the Doc said, his breath beginning to leave him as the internal bleeding grew terminal and his lung started to rip itself apart due to its odd position.

"What word?" Frost asked softly... almost respectfully.

"Pulsar." the Doc breathed. He tried to scream but couldn't get the air to do so... Frost's arms had tightened like the grippers of a vice... flesh compressed like putty, bones twisted and snapped like rubber, organs ground themselves to paste... by the time Frost finally released his grip and dropped what was left of the Doc, the Doc's waist had narrowed from 32 inches to 3 point 2 inches and his torso had been crushed as flat as a pancake. His features were strangely peaceful... almost fufilled. Frost dropped the cadaver... it held no more interest for him. He wiped his shirt down... he'd made a mess of himself again. His foot bumped against something on the ground and he picked up the scapel the Doc had initially given him. He casually gripped it in one hand. He had a destiny. What a destiny. He smiled... and smiled so hard it actually hurt. He had just started to laugh as he casually walked towards the elevators leading upward... now that he knew what he really was for he could reward himself with some play time. Pink. Pink, pink, pink. She couldn't have gotten that far, could she? He was almost through the door when he cursed softly... he'd meant to ask the Doc when his birthday was... oh well, today was really as good as any.

Murrue Ramius shifted positon... her captain's chair on the Archangel really was uncomfortable... especially after being sat in for more than a day straight. It reminded her of the days when they'd been fleeing from Heliopolis in space... days with no rest and constant worry. In modern terms the worry was the absolutely gargantuan buildup by the Earth Alliance in the Pacific Ocean... more than a hundred thousand troops, combined from all the various member states of the EA, were obviously preparing for a major push against Carpentaria sometime in the very near future. They'd need every last one of those troops too... ZAFT had beefed up Carpentaria's defenses considerably vs the last war, and they weren't blind either... after the failed recovery of Gibraltar they knew the hammer would fall on Carpentaria next... they'd been turning the place into the strongest base they could... even including warships in permanent low orbit overhead. The Archangel and the Kusanagi had been standing by at a rendevous point about three hundred miles south of Hawaii for more than a day now... they were just waiting to complete their forces before they headed south to take up their position as watchdog. It wasn't likely the EA would use WMDs, since they looked like they were planning to occupy Carpentaria for good this time, and ZAFT had yet to deploy a WMD on Earth, but you could never be sure in a war this bloody. Both warships were crewed, supplied and fully repaired. Ready for action. Andrew Waltfeld had flown out from Antartica and was currently serving as CIC commander for the Archangel, while Colonel Kisaka commanded the Kusanagi with his usual quiet competence. The only thing the ships lacked were pilots for their complement of mobile suits... and the bodyguards for said pilots. Murre smiled... she found the idea of Kira and Athrun needing a bodyguard unit somewhat ludicrous... those two could handle just about anything, she felt. Cagalli and Lacus were also plenty capable... more so than Murrue had been at their age.

But there was this troubling situation to consider... they'd been at the rendevous for more than ten hours past the scheduled meeting time, with no contact from either Alkire or Kira or Athrun... or anyone. The helicoptors that were supposed to carry the pilots and company back to the ship never showed up. They did not answer calls to their personal phones, or respond to emails to their computers. They'd just dropped off the surface of the map. Everyone had been worried sick... and that was nothing compared to what they were now. Eleven hours late, Alkire had finally called in... on an Earth Alliance signal. He'd looked more haggard than Murrue had ever seen him... and given that she usually only saw him just before he went off on a self appointed mission of destruction or just after he came back after getting shot up during aforesaid mission, that was saying something. The man had drive, that was plain. In a way he reminded her of Mu... though he was far less handsome and far less likeable than her dead love... he did share the reckless courage and casual disregard for orders he didn't like though. She'd lost track of the number of times she'd forbidden Alkire or his TEMPEST team to leave the ship... and they always managed to slip out anyway, under some pretense or other. She'd just given up eventually... as long as they kept to themselves... especially the one called Vladimir... she was happy. she wasn't happy to have a former mass murderer on her ship... but Kira hadn't asked her to send him away when she'd asked... he hadn't said keep him around either, but if Kira didn't want him away, that must mean there was something more to the man than she'd thought. Or was really willing to look for... she could forgive a lot but never the murder of children.

Alkire's message had sent electric shocks of dismay running through everyone... not least Kisaka and herself. Apparently Kira had finally received word from Sai... sai who'd been missing and presumed lost for months now. Apparently Sai was due to get married... in Hawaii, yesterday... and had decided to invite Kira and his friends to his wedding. Innocuous enough, even though it did make her suspicious... it would make a good set up. Apparently Alkire had agreed with her feeling but Kira was typically stubborn and had gotten his way... which had caused her to smile briefly in amusement... she remembered when he was just a lost boy, totally unsure of himself and what he was doing. What Alkire had repeated next had wiped the smile from her face in an instant. Sai's wedding had initially gone well... they'd all arrived early and everything looked to be shaping up fine between them... but then Sai's wife had shown up. Vanai Zunnichi... daughter of Cervantes Zunnichi, head of Blue Cosmos and the man who nominally ruled Orb for the Earth Alliance. Cervantes Zunnichi himself had shown up moments later, along with his intelligence and security director, Asmodeus Sark... a devil of a man with a devils name that apparently Alkire knew from his work with EFSOU. Sai had revealed an affiliation with Blue Cosmos and argued with Kira... Kira had pressed the argument too much, in the manner of Kira... he never knew when to give up on a lost cause. Sai had ended up striking Kira and knocking him down... a surprise to her, since she was well familiar with how fast Kira was. Sai had left and Cervantes had closed in with a large group of elite soldiers... it had been a trap after all. The kids and the commandos had been taken captive... violently in the case of Kira, who'd been tasered down trying to defend Lacus from Cervantes. Alkire himself had been shot while attempting to intervene... he was still a bit unsteady on his feet from what he'd said. Alkire had awoken tied up in a cage on a plane that was landing on the east coast of the old United States... the other members of TEMPEST were around, as was Asmodeus, but no kids. Alkire had later learned from Victor that the kids had been loaded onto a different plane as per Cervantes's specific orders... destination unknown.

Alkire and the members of TEMPEST had been forced to endure a brief stay at Levansworth Military Prison, in the high security cells. Murrue had commented on how easy they'd made their escape... she noted how improbable it was that a man as reputably smart as Asmodeus could have underestimated them so much, especially given how much reaserch he'd done on them. Alkire had replied that in all likelyhood the files that Asmodeus had studied had been at least a year out of date. He also somewhat sheepishly admitted that their escape could be attributed in large part to luck... without some older building design features that they were able to use to their advantage, and a paperwork error in their favor by some nameless clerk that had put Vladimir in the cell with a cellmate with a good stash of materials to use for an escape they would have been there for much longer... days if not weeks. Asmodeus had placed them in just about the most secure prison imaginable... they were good, very good, but not that good. If it wasn't for dumb luck... well... that was unknowable. In any case, they'd made their escape... they'd even managed to pick the location of Asmodeus's destination from the air control tower on their way out... it wasn't in the computer system but Vladimir had had a "private talk" with the operator on duty at the time and had wrangled the information from him. Alkire hadn't mentioned exactly how and Murrue felt it best not to ask... though she did shudder... yet another way this man was different from Mu... Mu never would have condoned such a thing. where exactly Asmodeus was heading was unclear... but it was in the Andes mountains of South America. Alkire had said that they were on their way there... but that they would need to be picked up by someone as their plane only had enough fuel to reach the Panama area. After much hard debate with Kisaka, it was decided that Murrue and the Archangel would rendevous with Alkire at sea outside of the Panama air defense cordon... how exactly that was going to occur was beyond her, as the Archangel did not have the landing facilities for cargo planes like the one Alkire had purportedly stolen. They'd been flying hard ever since that time... everyone on edge... hoping against hope they'd arrive at whevere the enemy was located in time... Blue Cosmos was not well known for keeping captive Coordinators alive for very long. And there were some very well known Coordinators amongst the group... Athrun Zala... Lacus Clyne... maybe even Kira himself, if Blue Cosmos had done a little bit of digging. Not to mention Cagalli... Blue Cosmos had already gone a long way towards ruining her life... what else they might do to her was anyones guess, but judging from the stormy look she'd last seen on Kisaka's face, none of it was likely to be good as she could imagine... and she wasn't imagining very good things.

"Ma'am... we have a contact incoming on the radar... it matches the type of aircraft that Mr.Majesty claimed to have appropriated." one of the bridge crew informed her. "It is currently flying across our course at an altitude of thirty thousand feet. It will overfly us in... three minutes."

"Captain... call incoming from the plane. It's Mr. Majesty." another crewmember said.

"Put him on." Murrue ordered, picking up the phone. "Well hello."

"My... what a big ship you have, Ms. Captain Ramius." Alkire replied. "I almost bet I could park this bird on her back."

"If you attempt anything that crazy I will have the Iegelstellung blow you out of the sky." Murrue replied smoothly. "And you might as well call me Murrue... you aren't under my command and you're technically not even military personnel anyways."

"Only if you call me Alkire... I'm on a first name basis with friends only." Alkire replied tiredly. He tried to smile but it was hard... his gunshot wound was still fresh... running around breaking out prison and stealing the transport hadn't done it much good either... he was going to have to be careful or he'd tear the scab and bandage open. And that wouldn't be good. Re-opened wounds always took longer to heal.

"We're not exactly friends... but I'm willing to cooperate in the interest of time." Murrue replied. "How are you planning on getting aboard, Alkire? That plane cannot land on the Archangel and you're flying a bit high for a water landing."

"Oh... don't worry. Everyone in TEMPEST is HALO certified... we won't have a problem getting to you... just make sure that once you see us exit the plane you stop or slow your big ship down so we can catch up." Alkire said with a crooked smile.

"Exit the plane?" Murrue said questioningly.

"They're going to parachute down from the plane. High Altitude Low Opening jump... a former standard for military special operations insertions before anti air defenses became as sophisticated as they are today." Waltfeld supplied. "I wasn't aware the Naturals still trained their people to do them."

"They don't." Alkire replied. "I do it for fun." He looked around the cargo area of the plane, making sure every member of the group waved an acknowledgement that they were ready. The plane was on autopilot... it would run out of fuel in another few hundred miles... it would never be found, not that it mattered much... they hadn't left anything on the plane which could be connected to them or the Archangel. "I'm glad to see parachutes are still standard on planes these days." He looked around one last time and received four thumbs up. "Well... as fun as it is to talk by radio... I much prefer in person. Coming... down." Alkire turned off the radio while simultaneously hitting the cargo door open button... all the air inside the plane rushed out into the low air pressure at thirty thousand feet... he allowed himself to be sucked out after everyone else was.

"That man is insane." Murrue commented. No one disagreed. She, as well as everyone else on the bridge, turned their eyes to the radar display.

"Altitude 25000... 22000... 20000..." the radar operator slowly counted off the height of the falling people. It took nearly a minute. Murrue could barely imagine what it must be like to actually jump from a perfectly good aircraft with only what amounted to a big synthetic cloth blanket strapped to your back... she shuddered... she didn't think she could do it. "7000... 5000... 4000... 2000... 1500... 1250... ma'am, they're getting really low. At this rate..."

"Don't they open the parachute usually?" Murrue asked Waltfeld. "What's the minimum altitude?"

"Do I look like I leap out of airplanes with a parachute strapped to my back?" Waltfeld replied. "Maybe they're already too low and they're going to go splat... good riddance in one case."

"800... 750... 7... there's the parachutes. Whoah... I was worried there for a moment. They'll be down in a few moments, ma'am. Shall I open the topside door?"

"Yes, do that." Murrue ordered. It was barely five minutes later that Alkire walked through the door onto the bridge, followed closely by the pretty female sniper whom Murrue assumed he was in a relationship with, given how close they always kept to each other. Murrue found herself wondering what sort of person the woman... Raine Belaruse... was. What could motivate her to be someone who killed people from a distance without a thought for a better way to solve a war? "You made it." Murrue commented.

"I usually do." Alkire replied casually. "It was actually a picture perfect jump... of course there was no anti air fire coming our way and the Archangel has a much bigger landing surface than I usually aim for, so that is only expected. But enough about that... we need to get moving."

"I have the projected destination coordinates here." Raine stepped forward and handed the helm officer a disk. "I've also plotted a tenative course through the mountains... we were there several months ago and this is the route we took... we destroyed what we all thought was a training camp then, but I think it may have been an outpost of a much larger facility now. I've always wondered where Blue Cosmos produced and researched their weapons and trained their highest quality terrorists... I think that wherever Asmodeus went is that place. I believe the Archangel can fit through the mountains along the path I indicated... it might be a tight squeeze at points but I've heard good things about your piloting skills, ensign." Raine nodded at Ensign Neumann, who had helmed the Archangel ever since Heliopolis.

"I could always fly..." Alkire stared to say... everyone glared at him... even Raine. "Or I could just sit and let the experts do it." Everyone lapsed into a tense silence... no one wanted to think about what they might find at this unknown destination. After several minutes Alkire and Raine excused themselves to go make sure they and the rest of TEMPEST were as ready as they could be, given that most of their equipment was still stashed in Hawaii.

"How long do we have?" Murrue asked at length.

"Two hours until we reach the coast... two or three more past that to the location, depending on how long it takes to get through the mountains." Neumann replied after a moment's consideration.

"Any obstacles? Alliance obstacles?" Waltfeld asked. "I have no recollection of ever hearing of a base of any size around these parts... South America was neutral until the start of the last war... ZAFT never received any intelligence indication about the construction of a base."

"Nothing but the terrain... the Archangel has maps showing most Alliance bases and it shows none in South America either. But it could just be an isolated facility... maybe only a few buildings and a bunker or something." Neumann said consideringly. "Although if it is a big enough base to have a landing strip for long range jets... you'd think that the construction for that would have showed up somewhere...clearing and leveling enough land for an airstrip in the middle of a mountain range is tough to keep secret."

"I also sincerely doubt that a man like Cervantes Zunnichi would valuable prisoners like Cagalli and Athrun and Lacus and Kira to something as unsecure as a bunker and outbuildings... all the files I've ever seen on the man indicate he's a risk taker... but only when the deck's already stacked in his favor. He'll have sent them to the most secure location he can, where he'll be sure they won't escape." Waltfeld added.

"What about this Cervantes Zunnichi and his aide, Asmodeus Sark? I've never heard of either of them... though Zunnichi was apparently very highly placed in Blue Cosmos if he took over after Azrael." Murrue asked. Waltfled scratched his sideburns thoughtfully.

"I wasn't much of an intelligence officer before our little encounter in the desert, but since then I've built up a reasonably good network, with Dicosta's help and that of a few others. The Clyne Faction also has a reasonably good network of informants that they let us use. I never had much access to much more than general level intelligence on Blue Cosmos when I was with ZAFT either. But I heard a few things... read a few files, smoked some cigars with the right people." Waltfeld said, gathering his thoughts. "If I understand things right, Cervantes Zunnichi was the muscle behind Azrael... not the political or financial muscle, but the real grit of Blue Cosmos. Azrael had the public speeches, wined and dined the politicians... Cervantes gave the orders to the hit teams and supervised the training of agents and the development of Blue Cosmos tactics. We... by we I mean ZAFT... never really had much on the man... he didn't come out in public much, his legitimate job was the CEO of one of Azrael's defense industries congolmerate... he's apparently a very independently wealthy man. After Azrael died he quietly took over the reins of the organization and the controls of the industrial conglomerate... either no one was powerful enough to oppose him or he got rid of those who tried. I never even knew what he looked like until I saw his speech at the Orb Parliament house." Waltfeld replied. "As for Captain Sark... well he's a someone I've heard a lot about... a lot of rumors. He's a bit like... Rau Le Creuset, I suppose you could say. A lot of people on our side knew things he'd done... but few had ever actually fought the man... fewer still had fought the man and had come back alive afterwards. He's the Hellhound of the Alliance Special Forces community... one of the stars of EFSOU... pretty much every successful EFSOU operation during the last war can be traced back to him, people he trained or people he advised. It's a good thing his superiors kept him hoarded up in the SpecOps community... I shudder to think what a man like him could have done if he'd been given a fleet to command. He's smart... experienced... adaptable... he always studies his foes in as much detail as possible before he engages them in combat, so he very rarely underestimates people... I wouldn't be surprised he has the entire personal records for every last person on this ship memorized. He's one of those frightening Naturals who just goes to show that Coordinators really aren't always superior to Naturals."

"Just most of the time." Murrue said with a slight grin. Waltfeld shrugged.

"I can't change the facts of life... a Coordinator just is potentially mentally and physically superior to a Natural. That's why we were made in the first place." Waltfeld looked out the main viewport, looking at something that wasn't there. "It doesn't bode well that Asmodeus is working with Cervantes... I'd never heard much about his political views but he doesn't strike me as the type of person who'd be a fanatic... he's never hated Coordinators as far as I'd heard... we were just the enemy, not monsters. He sometimes would play himself off as a fanatic in order to get people to underestimate him, we knew that much... but that wasn't really him."

"Is Asmodeus really his name?" Murrue asked. "Or is it an alias, like Alkire?"

"I have no idea... it seems unlikely a parent would name their child after a devil though." Waltfeld replied. "It should be interesting to see what this base is... I just hope we get there in time."

"So don't we all." Murrue whispered, looking out the viewscreen herself, as if hoping to catch sight of Kira right then and there... there was only the blue waves ahead though.

"It's freaking locked! The elevator's shut us out!" Ysak cried bitterly, slamming his hand against the shut doors. They had barely started their escape from the twisted clutches of the Doc and they were stymied. They'd just broken out of the lab not moments ago, running full tilt down the hallway... going for broke... but the elevators would not respond to the call button no matter how often or how hard he stabbed it. The BCPU's would no doubt soon be behind them... they hadn't hurt them nearly enough to keep them down for long, Ysak knew from repeated experience.

"You think this will help?" Lacus asked, holding up a cell phone. "It fell out of the Doc's pocket when you hit him, Ysak. I picked it up while everyone else was breaking free." Lacus said. Well... she hadn't just done that... she'd gotten a few kicks in on the Doc as well.

"It's just a cell phone... theres no way it'll have reception down here." Dearka replied. Athrun took the phone from Lacus and opened it up. He studied the screen for a moment and smiled wolfishly.

"How cunning of him... this isn't a cell phone." Athrun said.

"I think I know a cell phone when I see one... I've owned one for longer than you. It's just like any other video phone you can buy in the PLANTS." Dearka retorted. "If that isn't a cell phone, what is it?"

"A remote control. For this base, unless I miss my guess." Athrun replied, hurriedly scrolling down a long list of commands. He found what he was looking for within seconds. He pressed a button combination on the phone remote and the elevator doors whooshed open... the cars were still on this level. Everyone piled in and the doors slammed shut. Lacus was looking out while they shut and she saw Ashino running towards the car... he slowed just slightly as he looked her in the eye... she could have almost sworn he was being deliberately slower than he could have been. The door shut and someone slammed into it... probably Ashino. The entire metal door vibrated and then they were rising.

"Well... we're safe for the moment. No alarms have been sounded yet." Athrun said, still studying the phone. "Damn... this thing has everything on it... this is the key to the base. I'm surprised Blue Cosmos let a Coordinator have this... even a trusted one like the Doc."

"Maybe they didn't know about it... like I did with the Strike's control systems, locking them so only I could use them when we landed on Artemis." Kira said. "It would be a handy thing to have... a key to every system your bosses didn't know you had."

"It's more than a key... it's also got schematics of the base on it, and voice activated command overrides of important systems... the sentry guns, the blast doors, the cameras... the Doc fricking owned this base, not Blue Cosmos. Good job on picking this up, Lacus... this is our free ticket out of this hellhole." Athrun said with a smile. He looked around. "Aren't we four just a sight?" None of the four Corodinator males had yet dropped out of the SEED mode.

"So this is how you guys did all those amazing things during the last war." Dearka said wonderingly. "I thought there was something fishy going on when I saw Kira blocking beam blasts with a beam saber."

"Or disabled three or four teams at a time with the Freedom at JOSH-A." Ysak added. "I couldn't understand how you could possibly be that good before... now I know."

"We should be careful though... the longer we spend like this the worse it'll be for us later." Kira warned. "Athrun and I have been using this for a while now... we're always beat after even five or ten minute battles... and that's just piloting mobile suits."

"Hopefully... and with the aid of this remote... we won't have to remain like this long. Each level has two seperate sets of elevators on it... one that leads up the the level above and one that leads down to the level below. This base is pretty large, but the elevators are reasonably close together... probably to reduce transit time between the upper and lower levels." Athrun mused, studying the tiny schematics on the phone. "I'll turn off the automatic guns and cameras as we get to them... the guards will certainly notice if their entire system goes off line at once. They'll probably notice that their system is going off systematically too... but every extra second counts." Athrun turned to look at everyone else. "I'm actually very surprised an alarm hasn't been sounded already... what is that bastard up to down there anyways? Ysak didn't hit him that hard... he should have been mobile enough to find an alarm of some sort."

"I think the opposing side might not be as opposed to us as we thought." Lacus replied thoughtfully. "When we got into the elevator, Ashino was charging towards us... I think he purposefully slowed down and let us get away."

"And you're basing this assumption on what now?" Ysak asked, incredulous. "These guys aren't human, Lacus... they're all seriously messed up individuals... ascribing normal human emotions to them is... well, foolish, in my opinion."

"They may not be human any more, but they aren't all monsters either. Ashino is not... no monster would do the things he did... he resisted the order to beat me... even though it might have cost him his life. I'll grant you that Cray and Frost are beyond the remit of forgiveness and humanity... they need to be put down like rabid beasts... but Ashino isn't like them. Oh, sure he hates Coordinators... but only on a general level... he's... a lot like Sai, I believe. In reverse. Sai hates individual Coordinators but has nothing against us all... Ashino hates Coordinators in general but still likes a few of us on an individual level."

"Could it be that he just has a crush on you or something? I mean... no offense to anyone else present... but you ARE Lacus Clyne." Dearka said doubtfully. "I mean... if I hadn't known before that your were Athrun's fiancee... hell, I would have had a thing for you, easy." Dearka looked around. "What? Am I going to get in trouble for being honest now? Don't tell me that you wouldn't have been interested either, Ysak... she was the most eligible girl in all the PLANTS until her parents and Athrun's arranged their marriage."

"Maybe he does have a crush on me. But if that were the only reason, why would have he intervened to save Cagalli, Miriallia and Katie... and Chanel... from being raped by our guards as well? I think he might just have a soft spot for girls in trouble. He wouldn't be the only guy like that, by any means." Lacus replied.

"Maybe not the only guy... but certainly the only BCPU." Athrun said. "I'm forced to agree with Ysak... describing any of the BCPU's by comparing them to how a normal person would feel or act... I'm not convinced it's at all accurate. For all we know, he did it on a whim... or because he wanted to save you for himself later." Lacus started to protest again. Athrun held up a hand. "Don't get me wrong... I generally trust how you feel about someone... you're usually better at picking who to trust and not than I am. But even if Ashino has the purest of motives towards you... he's still my enemy... and Kira's enemy... and everyone else's enemy. Right now he is in pursuit of us, with orders to either kill us or return us to the Doc... which is basically killing us. If he catches up to us, we're going to have to fight him... perhaps even kill him if he persists. Do you understand what I'm saying? I don't want to hurt your feelings... but our lives come first. Like or not... he isn't on our side... he's on Blue Cosmos's side." the elevator pinged open. Dearka, Miriallia, Ysak and Katie all rushed out and started heading down the corridor.

"Hey... I'm grateful to him too... if it weren't for him I'd have a lot more to hate about Blue Cosmos right now than I already do... he saved me and you and Mir and Katie and Chanel from a fate every girl has nightmares about. But Athrun's right... he's still the enemy. One act of kindness... especially with his motives still in doubt... doesn't make up for a lifetime of wrongdoing. He may have had no choice... but I don't let choice act as an excuse for some of the things I've done, and you shouldn't let yourself shield him that way either. It's all very confusing... but now's not the time. Now we need to get out of here." Cagalli told her, not unkindly, before grabbing Athrun and pulling him after her as he dialed numbers on the phone remote. Kira gently pulled her along after them, not quite dragging her along but definitely pulling her faster than she could have run on her own.

"What about you, Kira. What do you think?" Lacus gasped, struggling to stay on her feet until Kira just turned in mid sprint and picked her up in his arms... she may have been a Coordinator but she didn't sprint around very much... her physical skills were actually less than Miriallia's when it came to running.

"I'm thinking I don't like how light you're getting... you need to eat more." Kira told her with a brief smile. "When we get out of here I'll have to buy you dinner at some nice place... as soon as we find the time." he moved forward a few more strides, about ten feet behind Athrun and a very red in the face Cagalli. "But in regards to Ashino... well, if you say he has good motives, I believe you. But motives aren't always enough... I've had good motives, or so I think, for my entire life... but that doesn't mean I don't regret a lot of things I've done. What he did down in the lab... refusing to hit you, even though it caused him real physical pain... that was a big plus in my book. But if he comes after us again... if he tries to recapture us... I will fight him. I'll try to avoid it... but if necessary to save someone's life, I will kill him too. I'll regret it... but the fact of the matter remains that he'll be trying to kill me too... I don't think he has any qualms about harming me."

About a half a level behind the Coordinators, Cray and Ashino raced side by side, spinning around corners and leaping through doorways in their haste. Cray had much longer limbs and he was slowly but surely pulling away, even though Ashino was running as hard as he could. "Cray... head to the armory!" Ashino called. Cray looked back and gave him a gimlet eye, weaving around a corner without looking as he did so.

"Why? I don't take orders from you, midget."

"They'll probably head there in order to grab weapons to protect themselves... you'll have the best chance of finding them there!" Ashino panted, as if more tired than he actually was.

"Why do you care?" Cray asked suspiciously.

"Plainly put, I'm not strong enough to fight them... you are. Especially if they have weapons... you'll have the best chance of recapturing them!"

"Recapture... hell, they're gonna die. I'm gonna kill them. The Doc said "get them, bring them back"... he didn't say to bring them back alive. Or whole."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Ashino asked himself. "Fine... whatever, it's not like I care. Just don't kill Lacus Clyne."

"Why... you got the hots for her or something? Little Ashino in love?"

"Moron! Frost wants her... I'm trying to save your life... can you imagine what he'd do to you if you cheated him of his revenge upon her?" Cray shuddered and almost lost his stride... plainly he could imagine. "Speaking of... where is he? I haven't seen him pass us."

"Maybe he went a different route... he's not exactly rational you know."

"I know. Just head to the armory, Cray. I'll go close off the main doors... then they'll be trapped in here with us... you're the strongest guy between us... I won't have a chance against all four of them... you do."

"Yeah... you're right. You actually say some pretty smart stuff now and again, midget. I'll corner them at the armory... they'll be all mine... I'll have dozens of ways to do them in. Thanks for the idea, Ashino... I'll remember this." Cray suddenly took a left instead of a right, heading along a different path. Ashino waited until he'd turned two more corners before sighing and shaking his head.

"If you wish to remember being a total moron, Cray, that's your business. Have fun getting locked out of the armory by the guards... theres no way they'll let you in there. Especially since the fugitives are in all likelyhood headed for the main entrance... why stop and pick up weapons when you don't even know where the armory is? Pride is such a failing... one of the greatest for anyone, human or not." Ashino put on an extra boost of speed, flipping around a corner and almost running into a pair of guards walking a patrol beat... clearly they'd missed the fugitives or they'd already be unconscious. Ashino wasted no time... he broke their necks before they knew he was on them, a single punch each. He dragged the corpses behind him as he ran, looting knives, guns and grenades from each before flinging the bodies away... he'd lost maybe ten seconds time total. Nothing he couldn't make up. He was up on level one in only three minutes time... he could hear running footsteps ahead of him... lots of running footsteps... seven pair if he heard correctly. There were suddenly a lot of echoes from ahead... the fugitives had reached the roadway tunnel that serviced this exit... they'd be at the main door in a minute. He slammed into a service door that lead to a hallway that paralled the roadway tunnel... this hallway contained maintainance access points for the power and hydraulic systems that controlled the main door on this tunnel. It would have been cramped for a normal sized person, but Ashino was shorter than normal... and if his shoulders banged off pipes and cabling a few times... well, he was used to pain. He sprinted for all he was worth up the narrow concrete passage... he needed to reach the other end of the hall before the fugitives reached the main exit and got outside. Ashino ran as fast as he ever had... perhaps faster... his feet beating down on the concrete like hands on a fast hand drum. He was going so fast his feet lost traction and slipped out from under him when he tried to stop in time to avoid running into the wall at the end of the hall. He skidded and cartwheeled along the hall for nearly twenty feet, rubbing himself raw in more than one place.

He impacted the wall hard enough to dent the armored insulation of the power main that ran across the wall before disappearing through a hole into the mechanisms of the door beyond the wall. Ashino didn't bother to stand before kicking the flimsy metal door of the service hallway right off it's hinges. He flipped to his feet, submachine gun in either hand and dove into a shoulder roll, hitting the door close mechanism with his foot on the way out the hallway... the heavy steel security door dropped with a rattle and clang that resounded down the roadway tunnel... the fugitives were still running full tilt towards the shut door, only twenty feet away. Ashino cursed his short legs... he hadn't beat them by nearly as much as he'd wanted... they were close enough they might think they could rush him... he didn't want that, it would render everything he'd done so far pointless if he was forced to kill them. Still rolling, nearly upside down, his head closer to the pavement than his legs, Ashino opened fire, two short and controlled spats of no more than ten bullets, one burst from each gun. The low caliber bullets whined off the pavement, digging small divots in the asphalt covering, stiching two parallel lines only feet in front of Ysak and Dearka, who were in front of the pack of fugitives. Both Coordinators reversed direction as quickly as they could... they had the same problem as Ashino, their feet slipping and sliding on the relatively slick surface of the road, though they did not fall. The fugitives found themselves forced to a halt only ten feet from Ashino... only fifteen feet from the closed door. Ashino completed his roll and regained his feet. He kept the guns pointed slightly down... not at the fugitives but not away from them either.

"You're either a terrible shot or you missed on purpose. Given what I know you to be, I'm going with the latter." Ysak commented coldly.

"If you think we're going back willingly, you're even crazier than the other two. I'd rather die than go back... I'm sure we all feel the same." Dearka added. Athrun calmly walked forward a step and punched a series of buttons on what looked like a cell phone. The main door behind Ashino slid open again with a whine. Ashino blinked... he hadn't expected that. Where would they have gotten something that could remotely control the base systems... oh, of course. He was so stupid... the Doc would have certainly have either been given or more likely made such a device for himself, to ensure his own saftey and superiority. They must have taken it from him while they were kicking him... he vaguely remembered Lacus reaching down to pick something off the ground... now he could see the remote control highlighted in his memory, the junk he'd dismissed it as before fading into what it really was. Unexpected, but it didn't significantly affect the plan Ashino had made up on the way up here. He wasn't standing in their path to stop them... well, he didn't expect to stop them, which wasn't quite the same thing. His conditioning rebelled at the very idea of helping out Coordinators... but the rest of his mind was feeling pretty good... he'd found a way around the conditioning, for the moment.

"I wouldn't expect you to surrender... I wouldn't if I were you. My grasp of human emotions is somewhat tenuous, but I'm not stupid... or crazy. Returning to the Doc holds no rewards for any of you... it will only lead to you becoming like me, at the very best. And none of you want that. None of you should want that. I don't want any of you to go through that sort of pain, either... hard as that may be to believe for some of you. You may be my enemies... but I prefer to kill my enemies on the battlefield... I don't torment them... I don't try to convert them by force... I most especially don't try to make them like me. If you encounter me on the battlefield, in a mobile suit or unarmed...you can expect no mercy from me... I will kill you without hesitation, as my conditoning and my feelings both dictate. But I will not kill you while you try to save the ones you love... a motivation I've always wanted but have never been given the opportunity to experience. I will not hurt noncombatants... I will not kill surrendering foes... I will not give in to unreasoning hate and I will not be ruled by my few emotions or my conditioning... for good or ill... off the battlefield or on it." Ashino told them very seriously.

"Why are you telling us this?" Kira asked, putting Lacus down.

"I don't know." Ashino replied, still completely serious. "I wanted to, I guess. By all rights I should have gunned you down some time ago... you're all my enemies. But unlike most BCPU's... I'm not a creature of instinct. I can make my own choices... even if it is hard."

"What do you want, Ashino?" Lacus asked, not unkindly.

"I want to tell you about the location of a secret VTOL transport aircraft hidden in the mountain jungles a few miles from here...but my conditioning forbids me from doing so under normal conditions... betraying my superiors and comrades to the enemy is an impossibilty for me." Ashino replied. "However... I have no aversions... conditioning or otherwise... to revealing the location of the transport under duress... BCPU are not supposed to be captured alive... my conditioning has nothing in it that prevents me from telling a superior the location of the aircraft... and by definition, anyone who can defeat me in combat is my superior. Flimsy maybe... but flimsy means nothing to my conditioning... it either is allowed or is not... the grey area fits under is allowed in this case."

"So we have to beat you down and then you'll tell us? Why didn't you say so sooner? There are eight of us... we should be able to handle you without too much problem." Ysak said, all grins. Ashino whipped one gun up and blasted a single shot into the asphalt between Ysak's feet. Ysak jumped back awkwardly.

"It has to be in a fair fight or I cannot acknowledge the superiority of the person who defeats me... if you all come at me I will be forced to accept my conditioned response... to shoot you all." Ashino warned them. "Hurry up and decide... Cray won't be delayed by the misdirection I gave him for long... he's already stated to me his intention to kill and dismember you all... except for Lacus, who is reserved for Frost... who could be anywhere right now."

"What kind of fight are we talking here? A gunfight?" Dearka asked, looking nervously over his shoulder.

"I don't care. Any kind of fight... you just have to beat me." Ashino shrugged.

"We don't have time for this..." Ysak started to say. Athrun put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Athrun? But.." Athrun handed the remote control to Cagalli and stepped forward.

"Fine... we'll have a fistfight then... you and me, the rules of the jungle. I assume that's okay?" Athrun said. Cagalli said nothing but bit her lip slightly in worry. She knew how tough Athrun was... she'd surprised him with a gun and he'd still beaten her with only a knife... he was an elite ZAFT soldier, trained in as many different styles of combat as there were leaves in a gale... there was reason to why people feared the ZAFT soldiers in red. And Athrun was one of the best the ZAFT academies had ever produced... but Ashino was also pretty damned tough. Cagalli thought about how he'd taken down five soldiers in heartbeats when he intervened in the interrogation room... she honestly couldn't decide for sure who she thought was tougher. Oh, she was rooting and betting on Athrun with all her heart... but she wasn't 100 sure he would win.

"Why you and not me or Dearka? Why you and not Kira? Or even Katie... she's damned good at unarmed stuff, since Vladimir and Raine and the rest of TEMPEST taught her personally." Ysak objected. "I'm an elite too... the only way you were ever better than me was in a mobile suit... and even then, it was debatable."

"Hey... I got no objection to Athrun doing it... I never excelled at the unarmed combat stuff like you guys did. Oh, sure, I scored well enough to be an Elite... but there's elite and elite, if you know what I mean." Dearka replied.

"Fighting outside of a mobile suit does not play to my strengths, I must admit. I never attended any formal training in self defense... sure I've learned a few things from James and Raine... but not enough to feel confident of victory against a trained opponent... especially one as tough as a BCPU." Kira said.

"I'd personally love to toss Ashino around for a bit... it was a person like him that killed Chanel right in front of my eyes by shooting her in the head. But I don't think I can... I know more about unarmed fighting than any of you... but I'm, like it or not, a Natural... he was built to kill Coordinators... trained Coordinators... skill can only compensate so much for talent." Katie said dejectedly.

"Ysak... you may feel okay... but you've been burning yourself up in SEED mode for longer than I have... you need to conserve your energy or you're going to collapse before long." Athrun added. "This fight is mine... you can have the next one."

"Or you can take his place if he fails... as long as you come one at a time and time permits, I'll fight as many of you as it takes to beat me." Ashino said. "However, if we talk much longer it may become moot... Frost and Cray will not honor the terms of this fight." he dropped his guns and kicked them away behind him, similarly divesting himself of the grenades and knives... the fugitives would have need of them if he lost. He honestly couldn't say whether he expected to win or lose... he couldn't throw the fight, because that would render him a traitor, and his conditioning wouldn't allow it. He'd be fighting as if his very life was on the line... he hoped they understood that. He didn't know how tough a SEED Coordinator was... he'd been crippled by pain the first time they'd attacked and hadn't been observing much of anything but the floor. Ashino settled into a loose stance, legs coiled and bent slightly, arms low for balance, head back to keep it out of initial range... it was time to see how tough Athrun really was.

Athrun made the first move, leaping into the air and delivering a side kick aimed for Ashino's head. ashino bent backwards and bobbed low under the attack, keeping on guard... Athrun had moved slow enough he was sure it was a feint. It was... Athrun's other leg came up and around at a rising angle, Ashino brought his arm into the path and took the blow... the surprisingly strong blow... on his wrist rather than his side. Ashino grunted and pushed the leg away just as Athrun pushed off him and flipped in midair... touching down with one hand for guidance before kicking at Ashino twice more, each blow striking cleanly on the short redheads chest, combined driving him back a step. Athrun was still handspringing back to his feet when Ashino charged back in... the step back had been to garner momentum, not from pain. Athrun caught Ashino's knee with both hands and averted it past his face, but was forced to accept a punch to the gut that drove most of the breath out of him as he regained his feet... the little guy was fast and hit as hard as anyone Athrun had ever fought. Athrun did not pause to regain his breath... there was no time, pausing in this sort of fight gave too much advantage to the enemy. Athrun swung a roundhouse at Ashino's cheek, which was ducked under as he'd expected, following up with a spinning high backhand that likewise went high and a spinning low kick on his second time around that caught Ashino just behind his ankles and threw his legs out from underneath him, spinning him in midair so he landed on his head. A ploy as it turned out as the BCPU hit the ground in a roll and came up with an uppercut that lifted Athrun right off his feet and sent him staggering backward.

Ashino pressed his momentary advantage... as long as he could burrow in close and take advantage of his superior hitting power, he would dominate the SEED Coordinator quickly. Athrun meanwhile was trying to keep the short redhead at bay with his longer reach... he couldn't allow himself to get pulled into a boxing exchange or worse, into a grapple. If he let Ashino get inside his elbows he was going to regret it. Athrun faked with a forward knee lunge that Ashino scooted backward out of range of... and then came flying back in with both hands raised high for a clubbing blow that would likely have ended the fight if Athrun hadn't turned the lunge power into a rising uppercut of his own, standing up from almost lying down on the ground right next to Ashino, swinging his hand up, dragging the knuckles along the ground for a brief moment before planting the fist right into Ashino's throat below the chin, turning slightly to the side as he rose to clear his leg to come around and drive his knee firmly into Ashino's side as the BCPU floated in midair for a second, lifted and flying from the force of the punch. Ashino crunched up hard around the knee, which had popped several ribs momentarily out of place. His body started pumping combat drugs and pure adrenaline into his bloodstream... he tried to stop it, but he couldn't... he wasn't fighting at his best without them anyway... the Coordinator had the SEED... maybe it was only fair. Ashino hit the ground and rolled outside, barely managing to roll away from Athrun's stamping foot as Athrun tried to kick his skull in while he was on the ground. Ashino swept out a burly arm and yanked Athrun's feet out from under him, using the resistance from Athrun to kip up himself to his feet so now he was standing and Athrun not. He dropped to his knees and hammered two heavy short jabs at Athrun's chest... screw the head, all he had to do to hurt his foe was hit anywhere. Athrun blocked one bewteen his crossed wrists but took the other right on the sternum, which flexed under the blow as a rib cracked from the strain. Athrun gritted his teeth, fighting his way past the pain. His scrabbling hand came up with a bunch of dirt, which he shoved into Ashino's eyes... he had said jungle rules.

Ashino blinked the dirt out of his eyes without flinching... compared to the pepper spray Dr. Prayce had doused him with, a little dirt was nothing. However, one of Athrun's fingers had clawed across his eye in the process and he couldn't help but flinch backwards slightly... his eyes were one of his weak points... tougher than purely human eyes but still vulnerable to damage. Athrun had taken advantage of the flinch to kip up himself, writhing his back and using the counterbalancing motion of his legs to throw himself to his feet... lashing out in a straight forward kick the moment he had his balance or maybe a little before... the kick struck Ashino right in the jaw and snapped his head back painfully hard, sending him crashing back into the ground, his head rebounding from the roadway with a dull smack. If he'd been human he probably would have either broken his neck or cracked his skull. As things were, he felt dizzy and a little nauseous. Athrun had fallen back down... he'd been off balance when he'd kicked and he'd paid for his solid blow by returning to the dirt, flat out on his back. He rolled to his feet as quickly as he could... just as Ashino did the same not three feet away. Blood dripped sluggishly from Ashino's jaw, where the kick had torn his lip... the blood seemed to be hardening into a leathery film even as Athrun watched. Athrun braced himself as Ashino charged in at him like a maddened bull... there was nothing for it but try to do as much damage as possible and hope he came out ahead.

Athrun cut loose with everything he could muster... a right hook to the nose, breaking it with a crack... a left jab that jerked Ashino's head back as it impacted just above the orbit of the eye... a knee to the groin that drove Ashino's breath from him in an explosion of air and flakes of blood crust. The BCPU took the pain and absolved himself of it... washing it away in his mind like dirt during a bath. He paid Athrun back with interest. His own knee struck Athrun on the thigh of his balancing leg, deeply bruising the muscle and sending him spinning to the side as Ashino followed it up with three punches... two short jabs, one to either cheek, which knocked Athrun's head about like a ball and then a blazing spinning backfist that landed right in the middle of Athrun's torso, landing with enough force to actually throw the Coordinator backward and skidding along the dirt by the side of the road. Ashino kept up the pressure hard, leaping forward to land straddling Athrun's chest, further driving the breath from his foe. Ashino snapped his head and torso down as if bowing, headbutting Athrun forehead to forehead, sending blood flying from the gash on Athrun's head... Ashino was unharmed... his skull was designed to resist hard impacts sustained during mobile suit combat... human bone was nothing for him to be worried about hitting. Ashino closed his knees around Athrun's torso, locking himself into place as he punched down again and again... he hadn't pinned Athrun's arms and so the Coordinator was able to defend himself, but Ashino could feel himself winning. He could feel it until Athrun caught his fists with his own hands and slammed both crunched up knees into Ashino's lower back... just above the tailbone. The area was reinforced... but his entire back felt like it had caught fire. Ashino couldn't choke back a cry of pain as Athrun threw him to the side. Both of them slowly climbed back to their feet and faced each other again... only feet apart. They both attacked at once.

From there the fight turned ugly... Ashino caught Athrun on the shoulder with a double fisted hammer blow which cracked the collarbone and sent splinters of agony shooting through his left side whenever he moved that arm... Athrun jammed his speared fingers into Ashino's armpit, the straightened fingers penetrating the skin and digging in more than an inch, tearing at the underarm muscle... Ashino headbutted again, knocking out a tooth of Athrun's... Athrun drove his elbow into Ashino's broken nose, sending gouts of gore flying everywhere... Ashino through punch after punch, battering his way through Athrun's defenses like a machine... Athrun concentrated on countering his enemy's moves, following up missed or blocked strikes with punishing blows from knee or foot or elbow, using as much of Ashino's momentum against him as he could. Cagalli watched with clenched fists and tearing eyes... her Athrun was getting the crap kicked out of him right in front of her eyes and there was nothing she could do about it... they'd taken up Ashino's dropped weapons the moment the fight had gone outside, but the guns weren't accurate enough to fire into the fight without a very good chance of hitting Athrun... and no one felt confident enough to step in with a knife to try to help. Of course Athrun wasn't just getting beat... he was dealing out as good as he got... but Cagalli had this sinking feeling that Ashino could take more punishment than Athrun could... his body was designed tougher... made tougher by biological and mechanical enhancements. They followed the fighting pair slowly as the fight descended down the roadway... not by any conscious decision by either fighter, just because that was the way the punches landed.

Ashino had had enough... he was hurting physically... his mind was hurting him, the conditioning trying to bring his hatred for Coordinators to the front of his mind, but he wasn't allowing it to... this was his fight, his way... not the way he was taught. It was time to finish this... he'd sparred against a lot of people in his life... Cray... Frost... Shani... various other BCPU's... and Athrun was about as good as any person he'd fought. Strong, fast, tough, willing to trade a blow to land a bigger one, merciless... but he was still just a normal person... he was going to crack first... he just didn't have the defenses Ashino did. Ashino threw himself at Athrun, taking another two facial punches to his battered nose and lip in the process... he ignored them... a little surgery and he'd be good as new. Once he achieved this grapple he would squeeze the Coordinator into submission... once he got a hold the fight was over.

Athrun was hurting... he'd practiced against some of the best fighters the ZAFT military could field and he'd never taken this much of a beating before. Of course, those had been matches in a ring, but still... he was starting to get pretty seriously hurt. If he didn't finish this up in the next exchange or two, he was going to lose... he'd be outlasted by the artificial endurance gifted to Ashino by his enhancements. Not altogether fair, but there was no use complaining... most times the Naturals he fought against would not have it fair either. Ashino suddenly physically threw himself at Athrun, arms spread wide to grapple... Athrun tried to dance back, swinging twice, further worsening the broken nose and split lip he'd given Ashino earlier... but his tired and bruised legs didn't move as fast as they had during the beginning of the fight and Ashino ignored the blows with his typical stoicism. Athrun felt the iron hard limbs lock around his waist, hands gripping each other in a ball in the small of his back. He felt the pressure start to build... Ashino was going to bearhug him into submission... maybe even to the death. He was lifted off the ground by the shorter man, denying him good leverage for most attacks. Athrun slammed his fists into Ashino's ears, one on either side of his head, a tactic that would have burst the eardrums of a Natural. Ashino shook with pain but only tightened his grip. Athrun felt his spine bending and his breath leaving him. He looked back up the slope... and found himself looking into Cagalli's eyes. Cagalli's tearful eyes... so filled with pain and fright and worry that it made what he was feeling pale into insignificance. He couldn't lose... he couldn't lose and cause her that kind of pain. He wouldn't let himself lose... because if he lost Cagalli would be lost as well... she put up such a brave front for the others... but Athrun knew better. She was hurting... hurting a lot. She was standing balanced on a bamboo shoot of confidence and love... all it would take to break that shoot would be for him to lose... and if that happened... no... it wouldn't happen. "I WILL NOT LOSE TO YOU!" Athrun shouted, slamming his doubled fists down onto the back of Ashino's neck as hard as he could... so hard he felt his left hand break from the impact. The impact stunned Ashino... his entire body seemed to turn off and go slack... he dropped Athrun and sank to his knees. He could only look up in shock at the suddenly renewed fury in Athrun's eyes.

"So this is the power of love." Ashino whispered. "Such a thing..." Athrun slammed his hands down again, striking Ashino in exactly the same spot on the back of his neck, knocking him out momentarily and leaving him sprawled on the ground. Athrun placed his foot on Ashino's throat and applied a degree of pressure... just enough so that he could really lay it on if the BCPU continued to fight.

"I win." Athrun said wearily, starting to sway a bit... that fight had really taken it out of him... a lot of it.

"You do." Ashino admitted. "There is a map in my left pant pocket that will show you how to get to the aircraft... it seats ten, so you should all fit fine. You should hurry... no doubt Frost and Cray will be here very soon... you'll want to be as far away from them as possible." Ashino paused a moment. "If she hadn't been there... if you hadn't loved her... I would have won."

"Probably. But she was and I do. And so I did." Athrun replied. "Love can do crazy, amazing things to people. You should remember that and what happened today, next time you're confronting someone on the battlefield... most everyone has someone who loves them... who will want to protect them... who will be sad and angry if you kill the person they love. Killing people only spawns hatred. It won't lead to peace."

"Peace is not my goal... to follow the orders of my commanders is my goal and my purpose." Ashino replied thoughtfully. "I'll think on what you said though... my purpose can always change. I..." Ashino coughed up some blood as an internal system rebelled. "I'm human enough for that."

"I'm sure someone will be glad to hear that." Atrhun said, picking the map out of Ashino's pocket. "I hope I never see you again."

"You can always hope..." Ashino said as Athrun moved away unsteadily, soon to disappear into the forest with his friends. Ashino contented himself with lying there for the nonce... he was actually hurt pretty bad and it felt good to just lie there. He may have lost his fight... but he'd won the greater battle... he'd found a way past his conditioning so he could accomplish something which left him feeling geniunely happy. He'd have to celebrate somehow. Maybe he'd try to ponder more about love... that seemed to extended the duration of the good feeling. He heard stamping footsteps approach from upslope... two pair. Relaxation was over... Cray and Frost would be wanting answers.

Author's note: I've just finished a year of school... nuclear engineering school and I'm going on leave until the 28th of August. This will probably be the last chapter I post until at least the 20th or so, maybe longer. I'll still be writing but I won't have internet until then. So I guess you people will just have to wait a bit, since I won't be keeping up my normally furious pace. Thanks for all the reviews... I'll probably be asking for more specific reviews as the story progresses... of course feel free to comment on anything which catches your fancy as well... the only thing I like more than having people talk to me about specific things I've written is doing the writing in the first place.


	60. The Most Dangerous Game

Author Note: My apologies for being so long between chapters... almost a month longer than I thought it would be. My leave was great... my new work is not. I work twelve hour days, monday through friday. Soon I'll be doing rotating shift work... which means twelve hour days, but sometimes those days start at midnight or the afternoon or the morning... it just depends. In any case, I'll try to keep writing, but I'm pretty tired most of the time... have to sleep and eat and do other stuff too. I'm continuously glad for the great reviews I continue to recieve... its for those kinds of reviews that I keep posting. The only thing I want is more reviews... I'll try to publish more chapters so you have more to review. Thanks. And enjoy.

Cray and Frost made an odd pair, Ashino thought as he watched them approach. They were upside down for one thing... or maybe that was just his position, since he was lying down on his back, head canted way back on the rough ground... he found it hard to tell because his vision was spinning and gyrating and fuzzing in the most upredictable of manners. Clearly he'd sustainted some fairly serious cranial damage from the headbutts, kicks and punches he'd both inflicted and endured during his fight with Athrun. He was designed to resist damage, especially blows to the head, which were among the most common form of pilot injury, but design could only go so far... even if his skull had been solid armor plate he would have been rattled just from the transmitted force of the blows. Ashino chuckled, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood clots on his lips... not just coppery but spiced with several other metals due to the artificially purified and oxygenated and mixed blood that he and every other BCPU had flowing through their veins. It had been a very long time since he'd last lost a fight... probably since that time he'd been ordered to fight Frost. And that hadn't really been much of a fight... Ashino had known going into that test that his opponent was faster, stronger and wholly nastier than he was... three factors which combined to have the test ending within the first minute and Ashino laid up for a half month in the infirmary afterwards. Ashino was still smiling when Frost and Cray stomped over and stood staring balefully down at him. Cray especially had a twisted look of hatred on his features... he apparently didn't appreciate Ashino sending him on a wild goose chase very much at all. Frost for once looked calm... almost blissful. And he wasn't even soaked in blood... this sent a small alarm bell ringing in the depths of Ashino's mind. Frost was never calm and quiet... not unless he'd just inflicted a lot of pain and suffering... and he currently wasn't messy enough for that to have happened.

"Hey, brothers... how goes it?" Ashino asked with a half smile, his eyes blinking open and shut slowly. He could make out their faces easily enough... Cray's snarl... Frost's bemused smirk... but the rest of them was just a blur, mixed in with the ground and the sky in a swirling pattern which hurt his head when he tried to comprehend it... he plainly had a concussion... a serious one that would need attending to before he could even consider any sort of physical activity, much less flying into battle. That might queer good old Asmodeus's battle plans a bit... Ashino grinned slightly wider... the icy eyed son of a bitch would likely shit a brick when he found out. Ashino hoped he'd be coherent enough to hear and enjoy it. Hell... he hoped he'd be alive... from the look on Cray's face that was not an assured thing by any means.

"You... you midget bastard prick slimeball!" Cray hissed, reaching down with one lanky arm to grab Ashino around the neck. With little apparent effort Cray lifted the much shorter but broader Ashino off the ground and held him at shoulder height... Ashino's feet swung more than eight inches off the ground. Ashino grimaced crookedly at his peer.

"I take it you figured out they weren't going to the armory, eh?" Ashino asked snidely.

"You tricked me!" Cray accused, as if that wasn't already obvious. "I was convinced they'd sneaked past the armory guards... they nearly shot me full of lead before Frost showed up and took them down."

"In my defense... you allowed yourself to be tricked, Cray. You let your pride and hubris blind you to good tactics and common sense... how could they head for the armory if they didn't even know where it was?" Ashino retorted contemptuously.

"Oh, yeah... you think you're a real barrel of laughs, don't ya, ya red haired dwarf?" Cray squeezed Ashino's neck hard enough to cut off the airflow through his strengthened windpipe. "When the Doc hears about how you let the prisoners go...oh man, I can't even imagine what he'll do to you. Sorry won't even begin to cover it, I'm sure." Frost laughed... a short and bitter explosion of mirth. Cray frowned and looked down at the green haired monster. "What's so funny, man? I tell you, I'm in a real bad mood here, Frost... real bad. I might just snap the dwarf's neck right here and now... no reason the Doc should have all the fun."

"Your mood is of no interest to me, stickman." Frost replied. "If you're going to snap his neck, get it over with already. Every moment we delay is one more moment they have to get farther away." Frost looked around and studied the ground... noting the small spalshes of blood and stirred up ground and broken branches that marked the areas where Ashino and Athrun had fought. Frost leaned down and wiped some blood off of a leaf, rubbing it between his fingers and licking his hand speculatively. Frost looked over casually at Ashino, hanging limply in Cray's grasp... there was little point in fighting when he was already worn out and concussed... especially since Cray was both stronger and faster than him anyway. "You have a fight with one of them?" Frost asked. Ashino rolled his eyes at him and grunted... all he could manage past the slowly increasing pressure Cray was exerting on his larynx. "Hold off a minute, Cray... I have some questions for our rebellious little brother." Frost ordered... smiling slightly at the irony... considering Frost himself was the greatest rebel present, having killed Doc... and was also the shortest by several inches, by all rights Ashino could call him the "little" brother. Cray squeezed a slight bit more and then dropped Ashino to the dust.

"You're lucky, red dwarf. You might have some stuff you can tell us... and anyway, I want to watch the Doc take you apart... I've never seen him disassemble someone as advanced as you before... it ought to be pretty instructional, I think." Cray said venemously, adjusting the straps of the weapons he had "borrowed" from the armory after Frost had silenced the guard's protests. It had been like a kid in a candy store with an unlimited shopping spree card... he usually didn't get to choose his own weapons and he might have gone a little overboard... but it was better to give than to receive... and he had a whole lotta giving to give out now. Frost ambled over and stamped his foot down on Ashino's lower left arm, pinning it to the ground by the side of the road.

"Hurting me is not necessary... I will of course provide you with whatever information it is in my power to give you, Frost... you know we're conditioned that way." Ashino said quietly, looking from his trapped arm to Frost's face. He made no move to jerk away... it would be a pointless wasted effort anyway.

"It may not be necessary... but consider who you're talking to." Frost said with a wry smile. "If you have anything you might be feeling guilty about and want to spill... well, the faster you sate my interest the quicker I'll leave... and the quicker I leave the less damage you'll suffer. You can begin talking any time." he started to grind his foot down, slowly crushing Ashino's arm into the ground.

"Specific questions would help... unlike you my conscience is quite troubled by many things... few of them relevant to the here and now... if you were to listen to me unburden all my worries and sins, we'd be here days from now at the least." Ashino retorted, forcing himself to ignore the stabbing pain in his arm. He stared stonily up at Frost's face, forcing himself to ignore the blurry world around him.

"Disturbed with working conditions... you should call the union." Frost cackled. "Though I don't think we'll be staging any walk outs any time soon. Nasty things, remote detonating devices." Frost brought his mind back to the topic at hand. "Did you fight one of the escaped subjects?"

"Yes... I fought Athrun in a hand to hand fight. I lost." Ashino replied, not bothering to add how close the fight had been.

"Athrun? Athrun? You're on a first name basis with the enemy now, ya little red dwarf?" Cray growled, prowling back and forth like a hunting dog on a short leash. "You musta meant that Zala guy... right? The monster Zala?" Both other BCPU's ignored Cray's ranting.

"Why did you fight him hand to hand? You were armed... you're proficient enough to have managed to arm yourself, I know. Why did you just not kill or disable them all... they were unarmed... I've seen you shoot too... you could have easily have delayed them for the few minutes it took for Cray and I to arrive." Frost asked. "You hurt him too... he's bleeding... this is his blood here on my fingers. Want to taste? It's sweet... tangy with fear and adrenaline and something I can't quite identify... perhaps this SEED factor thing." Frost proffered his hand to Ashino, who turned his head away, stomach roiling slightly. Frost shurgged. "Your loss..." he took another lick, like a man might do to a juice popsicle. He rolled his foot so his heel was square on Ashino's arm bone, in position for a much harder push.

"Surely you can understand my reasons... shooting them would have been too easy and quick. I'm not as debased as you and Cray... but even I can see that there is more to be done with the captives than just kill them. If nothing else I want to talk to a few of them... preferrably before you two start chopping them up into mince." Ashino paused a moment to brace himself. "It was a fun fight... rousing... I'm certain you know what I mean. He was a worthy foe... someone to test myself against. I may have lost, but I tried my best and I have no regrets. Can you understand how that feels?"

"I have no idea what you are speaking of... it smacks of romantic honor and other bullshit of that nature. The Doc was right... you are becoming humanlike. You're starting to think like them... soon you'll be acting like them... feeling like them... smelling like them... you are aware that you will never become one though? Once your feet are placed upon this path by the Doc there is no going back. We are forever apart... no one will ever love us again." Frost replied, his tone somewhat bitter towards the end, in Ashino's opinion. "But I don't really care... you can start writing love poetry and eating sorbet out of crystal glasses and it won't matter to me one bit." Frost twisted his foot experimentally, his heel cracking Ashino's arm audibly. "So you fought one of them and lost... but he is reasonably hurt... perhaps seriously hurt. Certainly not moving as fast as he could be... you've slowed their pace if nothing else... they're all too stuck on comradeship and goodwill and friendship and love to abandon the wounded guy. You were conscious when we got here... and you were never unconscious... you haven't suffered that kind of damage. Where did they go, Ashino? They can't be more than five or ten minutes away. Where did they go and why did they leave you alive?"

"They left me alive because Lacus Clyne and Kira Yamato were there... you've read their files and the psyche evaluations on them... they have almost unfeasibly large reservoirs of mercy and compassion in them... especially Lacus. I doubt the songstress could crush a fly if it bit her." Ashino answered the second question first, aware that every second that Frost and Cray spent talking to him was one second more for the fugitives to use to get farther away.

"I think she could kill me if she had the chance." Frost replied thoughtfully.

"At least flies are cute... compared to you." Ashino sniped. "They may be blood sucking, disease carrying, disgusting and abhorrent... but they aren't malevolent. They do what they do because that is their niche in life... not because it gives them pleasure. I have little doubt that Lacus or Kira could and would quite gladly give you a bullet trepanning if given the opportunity... sacred oaths not to kill and moral philosophies not withstanding." Frost nodded happily in agreement.

"It's so nice to have an adoring public. It just goes to show... I'm already doing my job right... if I can get them to want to kill me, I can get anyone to want to." Frost said, momentarily letting up on his arm grinding. The pressure resumed with little warning... worse than before. "But where did they go, Ashino? Cray and I had the luxury of kitting ourself out in the armory... I was surprised at how well equipped it was... we probably took more than our fair share of fun toys and gizmos. Cray's starting to look pretty restless... I'd prefer not to have to burn down the entire forest in order to corner the enemy, but I will if you force me to. After I crucify you to the tree at the center of the blaze first."

Ashino sighed inwardly... he'd bought the fleeing foe as much time as was possible... he wasn't willing to risk further harm to himself for their likely ungrateful sakes. "They went towards the old storage huts... they had a phone which gave them the layouts of the base... it may have revealed to them the location of the secret escape aircraft hidden there." For all Ashino knew that was the geniune case... the phone could open all the doors in the facility... why shouldn't it have also had a map to the aircraft? There was no need to mention his little map... Frost hadn't asked him if he'd helped the fugitives... just where they'd gone. Passive resistance was turning out to be the key to resisting his programming... loopholes were wonderful things.

"You seem to have been paying a surprising amount of attention... for someone who purportedly lost an unarmed battle you had a lot of time to look around, methinks. There's more to this than you are telling us, Ashino." Frost said speculatively. He rubbed his chin in thought. "Don't look at me like that... I know better than any one of us what signs to look for when a BCPU is hiding something. You think I haven't figured ways around the conditioning we've been given either? Please, Ashino... I may be insane but you must remember not to equate insanity with stupidity... if you remember nothing else about me, you should remember that." Frost advised.

"You're awfully magnaminous today, Frost. Having Cray spare my life... not tearing me limb from limb while asking me questions even though I'm helpless... offering advice... I've never seen you in such a good mood." Ashino observed. Frost chuckled for a long few seconds, finally bringing himself back under control with an obvious effort, though he was still grinning widely.

"It's my birthday." Frost replied, strangling another chuckle, almost hysterical this time. "And I just got a really nice present from the Doc." Emotion proved too much this time... Frost started laughing so hard he actually lifted his foot from Ashino's arm and almost bent double with mirth. Ashino and Cray looked at each other uneasily... anything Frost found so funny... well, they knew what his sense of humor ran to.

"Happy birthday, man." Cray said, slightly haltingly. He realized as he said it that he had no idea when his own birthday was... it was slightly troubling how untroubled he was by that fact.

"Another year older... hard to believe. You haven't matured at all." Ashino muttered, cradling his arms to his chest as he sat up. He too realized that he had no idea upon what day he was born... no doubt one more casualty of the Doc's brainwashing. "So what did the Doc give you? A lump of coal, I hope."

"It was carbon based." Frost admitted... the human body was carbon based, technically. "And if you burn people they turn into ashes, which are like coal."

"Not really." Ashino replied. "You need to brush up on your chemistry a little."

"That's your problem, Markov... you don't have enough imagination." Frost snarled, grabbing Ashino by the collar and dragging him up face to face.

"I think I've got enough... enough to imagine what you may have been up to with the Doc... Zacharis." Ashino spat back. The Doc never gave out presents... he didn't even let the BCPU's have birthdays in the first place... and given how amused Frost was... Ashino had the sickening feeling the Doc wouldn't be around to talk to anymore.

"What the hell are you trying to say, dwarf?" Cray asked, puzzled. Frost grimaced and threw Ashino away from him. It would best serve him to not have Cray find out that Frost had put an end to their so called "father" so soon... of the three of them, Cray was the only one who was actually loyal to the Doc. Like the Doc had said... all he had to do was pat Cray on the head, call him a good boy, and send him a girl every few weeks and the spidery bastard loved him like a real father. If Cray learned that Frost had slain the old Coordinator, he'd try and get revenge, likely by murder... Frost could appreciate the sentiment of course, but it would be inconvienient to have to kill Cray just yet... he needed to wait for a more opportune time... he was too off balance right now... too fresh into his destiny... too decentralized from the movers and shakers of the world.

"He's just spouting gibberish, Cray. He's been knocked a little loopy from too many blows to the head... you know what the BCPU 4's are like... bash them around a bit and they start getting dizzy and weak kneed and all that crap. I'm sure he has no idea what he's saying... poor guy needs to go to the infirmary. And we need to get after those fugitives... the longer we stand here jawing, the farther we'll have to run before we catch them... I don't know about you but I don't want a long walk back. Besides... aren't you just itching to lighten your load a little bit? You've got an arsenal and a half with you." Frost said quickly, moving to distract his somewhat slower thinking peer. Cray wasn't stupid by any means... but his intellect was more the contemplative type... he took a while to think things thru... as long as Frost kept him distracted with thoughts of the fugitives he wouldn't have time to process what Ashino had insinuated.

Cray self consciously adjusted the weapons he'd taken... patting the bulky stock of the 30mm anti-tank cannon... adjusting the carrying strap of the 5mm seven barreled chain gun... checking the placement of the two .45 caliber desert eagle pistols in waist holsters... hefted the 15mm flechette rifle he carried in his left hand... toyed with the dual trigger of the double barreled elephant gun in his right hand... and inspected the bandoleer of incendiary grenades he wore across his chest. He was carrying more weapons than a squad of infantry, certainly far more than someone as spindly as he was should have been able to life, much less carry. However, his muscles weren't strictly flesh and his bones were a lot sturdier than any human equivalent, so not only could he carry the weapons, he could move with them at only slightly less than his normal capability. "Got a point there, man. I never thought I'd get to use any of this shit off the practice range... it's not the Merciless by any means, but it'll serve. It'll serve, all right. And hey... it's not like you're all that lightly armed yourself, either." Cray commented in return.

Frost didn't need to check his weapons... he knew what he'd taken. Unlike Cray, who, true to form, had outfitted himself entirely with weapons that did good at range, Frost had looted mostly melee weapons from the armory. Of course, that was true to his preferences as well... he liked to be close enough to feel the deaths. His favorite part of wetwork like this was the "wet" part... it wasn't a kill unless at least half of it went on him. To facilitate this he'd taken not only his usual set of a serrated carving knife and two combat knives, but also his scythe, eight throwing daggers, a replacement pair of chainblade machete's and two archaic steel longswords... part of some collection of one of the scientists on base, but razor sharp and deadly nonetheless. He'd also taken a pair of .357 magnum revolvers... the twelve heavy shots they contained would almost certainly satisfy any need to shoot at range he would encounter. "That's true. But I've had enough talk... you can stay here with your thumb up your ass if you want, jawing with the dwarf... me, I'm going to go have some fun." Frost retorted, putting action to words and heading off through the jungle. He didn't have to wait long before he heard Cray stumbling through the brush after him, swearing up a storm as his large and bulky weapons got caught on the thick undergrowth almost constantly. Still, despite that, and despite the lack of a path, Frost knew that he and Cray would quickly catch up to the fugitives. He could hardly wait. Pink filled his mind... slowly darkening to crimson. Behind them, Ashino painfully picked himself up off the ground and limped back into the base without a single look back... the fate of Lacus and her friends was now beyond his hands... he hoped they could get away.

Athrun stumbled and would have fallen if Cagalli hadn't been half holding him up. The mountain path they had found that led towards the concealed hanger on Ashino's map was little more than a goat track, meandering up and down the side of the mountain, crossing small streams of snowmelt runoff and periodically dipping back into the thick jungle. They were moving as fast as they could, but Athrun knew it wasn't likely to turn out to be fast enough. Maybe if they had been sprinting from the moment they found the trail... assuming they even could on the uneven and treacherous ground... maybe then they would have had enough of a lead to make him feel comfortable. But everyone was already tired... not just him. Ysak was really starting to show the effects of staying too long in SEED mode... his breath was coming in heaving gasps and he was sweating even more freely than everyone else, though he was still maintaining his pace. Of course that wasn't the point... he would of course keep going until he collapsed unconscious, because while you were in SEED you rarely felt pain or exhaustion, Athrun knew from repeated experience. Ysak probably didn't even realize just how tired he was. And everyone else was nearing their endurance limit as well... Miriallia and Lacus had never been the most physical of people... certainly not long distance mountain runners. Katie was holding up well, as was Cagalli, though having to help him along too wasn't doing her any extra good. Kira and Dearka were breathing heavily, though not gasping. It was the air... they were in the mountains and it was much thinner than the air in Hawaii. Also, having been locked up in tiny disgusting cells with little in the way of nutrition, not to mention actual torture, hadn't done anyone any good.

Cagalli helped him up and over another large rock that was lying right in the middle of the so called path. Athrun chanced a look behind him and nearly fell, almost pulling Cagalli down after him in a tumble that probably wouldn't have stopped until they reached the trees about forty feet below. Athrun managed to avert the disasterous fall at the last moment by catching himself with his left hand... the broken hand. His mind went white with the sensation... SEED mode or not, some things just plain hurt like hell. He clenched his jaw tight to keep from yelling... it wasn't entirely from pride either... the BCPU's didn't need any additional help in tracking them down. Athrun sorted through the images he'd sntached in his glimpse once he could think straight again... bare rock... waving trees... small streams... heavy brush... Katie and Ysak behind him... but no enemies. Thankfully. Yet. Kira and Lacus were ahead in the lead with the map, both being amongst the healthiest in the group and thus currently the best at trailblazing. Neither were armed... Kira and Lacus being Kira and Lacus no matter the extremes... and so it also made sense to have them be as far away from the enemy as possible. Just behind them trudged Dearka and Miriallia, with Mir helping Dearka as necessary, since he was still in rough shape from the beating he'd received during interrogation. Despite that, Dearka carried one of the two sub machine guns, along with half the ammo, all forty rounds of it. Miriallia carried two explosive grenades taken from the pile Ashino had dropped. They were the forward reaction force, in case Blue Cosmos had guards at the hanger, even though it was supposed to be secret and hidden.

After them came Athrun himself, his right arm around Cagalli's shoulders and both her arms around him as they sort of staggered forward as fast as they could go. Cagalli wore one of the stolen comabt knives at her waist, Athrun had no weapon. He didn't think he could even shoot straight in his current condition, much less muster the energy to fight hand to hand again... that fight had been very, very close. Ashino had been a superior fighter... created and refined to be stronger, faster and tougher than any normal Coordinator, not to mention trained to fight and kill with his bare hands. If Athrun hadn't been... himself... then he probably would have lost. Especially if Cagalli hadn't been there. But she had been and that was all in the past, no need to remincise about it again. He tightened his arm around her shoulders once more, both to help her lift him from his half kneeling stance and to convey again his appreciation, as always, for her constant presence. He felt Ysak pushing on his back, reminding him again of the urgency of their situation... they could not afford to stop for anything. Ysak and Katie brought up the rear of the party. Both were in tatters... emotionally anyway. Chanel had not left the enemy base with them and Athrun didn't think she'd ever be coming out either, from how Ysak and Katie looked. Yet another casualty in this senseless war. It was enough to get his anger boiling red hot just below the surface. Ysak had the other combat knife and four more explosive grenades, while Katie carred the remaining sub machine gun and the last forty bullets. Katie was an excellent shot but more importantly Ysak was more dangerous in close quarters, so he had taken the knife and grenades while she had taken the gun. They were the rearguard, watching behind themselves and to the sides as much as they looked forward, if not more so.

"How much farther do you think it is?" Cagalli asked as she panted for breath. They were descending back into the jungle, having just crested one more ridge of the mountain. Athrun creased his brow in thought.

"Not much further, I would think. From how Ashino talked of it, the hidden hanger wasn't very far away. We've traveled almost a mile and half... we should get there soon." he replied. Cagalli hide her half smile.

"Good... because you're getting really heavy. It's like competing in a three legged race with a sack of bowling balls strapped to my back." Cagalli told him. She waited a beat. "That's a joke... don't you go shifting more weight onto your injuries now, or anything stupid like that. Ashino hurt you badly enough on his own... you don't need to help him out any."

"Yes, ma'am." Athrun replied, grinning in spite of himself. "How about I just lift up my legs and let you carry me the rest of the way? That way I won't have to put any weight on my injuries... which I mostly suffered to my chest and face anyway, but hey, I don't have any problems with being carried."

"You keep talking like that and you're going to find out what it's like to roll." Cagalli muttered, her eyes shining with a familiar fierce light.

"For christssakes... you two get turned on at the oddest of times." Ysak interrupted, pushing them both ahead. "We're being pursued by foes who fit the very definition of villianous superhumans and you two are panting down each other's throats like you want to start tearing off each others clothes at any minute."

"God... I hate him when he's right." Cagalli whispered into Athrun's ear. "We'll pick this back up later... assuming we aren't introduced to a different sort of bliss by the enemy beforehand."

"What?" Athrun asked, slightly out of it.

"By meeting up in heaven after they kill us." Cagalli supplied.

"Nobody's going to die except for them!" Katie refuted, turning to look at Cagalli. Ysak looked back at the back trail and noted an out of place glint of sunlight on metal about three hundred meters back. He barely had time to react, diving sideways to push Katie down of the line of fire behind a boulder, covering her with his body... he was damned if he was going to lose another half of his heart today.

"Get..." Ysak started to shout. He was interrupted by the concussive roar of the high explosive shell fired from Cray's 30mm cannon as it detonated on the ridgeline about ten feet behind where Ysak and Katie had previously stood. Fire and smoke whipped around while dirt and small chips of rock fell like rain. The force of the explosion had tossed Athrun and Cagalli forward and both were rolling down the path, trying to shield each other from the various rocks they were hitting on the way down. "... down." Ysak finished, spitting out rock dust. "Looks like they found us." He looked down... Katie had her eyes closed... for a brief moment he was afraid he'd knocked her out when he pushed her away but then her eyes opened.

"Don't worry... I was just doing a quick little scan, to see if I could confirm who it was. It's Frost and Cray... they're both in good spirits and they're both closing quickly."

"How quickly?" Ysak asked. Katie pushed him off of her and pulled herself to one knee, sub gun aimed back at the trail behind them. She cracked off three rounds and then ducked back into cover.

"Too quickly... I got Cray to put his head down but Frost dropped out of my line of sight... he's probably going to circle around and attack from another side." She replied tersely. Ysak started to raise his head to take a look but Katie jerked him back down, just before a very large claiber solid slug gouged an inch deep crater in the top of the rock they were hiding behind, right where his head would have been. "Mind the elephant gun." Katie told him.

"He's got an elephant gun too? I didn't even know they still made those... elephants are a very endangered species!" Ysak complained, priming a grenade. Below them, Athrun and Cagalli had regained their feet and were hurrying away with the aide of Kira and Lacus, with Dearka and Miriallia covering them as they disappeared back into the tree line. Ysak started to poke his head back up, but then glanced at Katie. She grinned ever so slightly and closed her eyes.

"He's reloading right now... it's hard for him since he has to juggle his weapons around. And yes, he has an elephant gun. And an anti-tank cannon. And a gatling gun. And several more weapons I can't identify until he gets closer." she informed him. Ysak popped his head up and looked around... it wasn't too hard to spot the enemy... Cray had ducked behind cover of his own, but his weapons were so large they stuck out from behind the boulder and clearly indicated where he was... he'd managed to close to two hundred meters... astonishingly fast given how encumbered he must be... Ysak shook his head... he was thinking for a human or Coordinator... Cray was neither. He started to open his mouth to comment on how useful her Newtype sense was.

"Yes, Chanel and I were goddesses at hide and seek." Katie interrupted before he could put word to thought. "You asked how we managed to avoid you back in Orb, and how we found you too. Now you know. Of course you knew back then, but you didn't believe us." Ysak opened his mouth again. "Don't apologize... I probably wouldn't have believed us either, if I were you." Ysak frowned at her and opened his mouth again. "Yes, I'm reading your mind. No... I won't stop." Katie cocked her head to the side. "Deal with it. Like it or not, you absorbed a portion of Chanel's echo and you're going to have to learn to live with it. And I'm not going to let such an advantage go to waste... finally I have a really good reason to explore my powers, rather than run away from them like I have before." Katie frowned and grabbed Ysak by the arm and pulled him away from the rock in a headlong dive that sent them tumbling thirty feet down the slope. This turned out to be a good thing, because the rock they had been sheltering behind blew into fiery fragments after another 30mm cannon shell struck it.

"It's unnerving." Ysak complained, finally managing to get a few words out before she could cut him off. He twisted around and rolled to his feet, crouching behind another boulder. He checked behind him... only another fifteen or twenty feet to the jungle line and then they'd be out of sight.

"Go for the jungle." Katie ordered. Ysak looked at her. He didn't even need to think anything. Katie sighed. "Fine... don't go. But be ready to throw that grenade the very instant I give you a beepcall." Katie sat down and closed her eyes, frowning in concentration. "That's it, you warped son of a bitch... keep on coming closer." she whispered to her self as she locked on to Cray's mental presence. It really wasn't that hard... he was completely open... if she'd been more practiced with her talents she probably could have messed with his head a bit... of course how useful that would be was another issue, since his head was already pretty messed with. Cray reloaded his cannon and bounded forward towards the ridgeline... he hadn't seen any blood spatter from that last shot, so he didn't think he'd got either one of them. His opponents were the blond girl with the blue eyes... the sister of the girl he'd gotten to execute... and their pathetic boyfriend, Y-sack or something. The girl was armed and a pretty good shot too... she might have winged a slower man with the shot's she'd fired. But Frost and Cray were not slow... nor really men. Frost had jackrabbited down out of sight and sped off at an angle, crawling along the ground like a lizard, weapons striking sparks off the rocks around him. Cray meanwhile had retaliated with one barrel of the elephant gun... he'd almost blown the Coordinator's head off but he ducked back at the very last second. Next he'd closed the distance some and then fired off his second of four anti-tank cannon shells. That was his only problem... he was carrying so many weapons he only had a very limited supply of ammo for each one.

_BEEP! Now!_ Katie's voice ecoed so loud in Ysak's head he almost winced... he just knew he was never going to get used to being beepcalled, or whatever it was. It was just too alien a concept for him to work his mind around... telepathy? That was science fiction stuff! While his higher mind was occupied with this conundrum, the rest of him tossed the grenade right at the crest of the hill... there was no target there as of when he'd tossed the grenade, but Cray and the grenade reached the top of the hill at roughly the same time, at roughly the same location. Cray had just brought the elephant gun to bear when he noticed the sphere of matte metal almost floating through the air at waist height about four feet to his left.

"Ah, damn." Cray lamented. The grenade detonated, spraying a fifteen foot area with fire and shrapnel... there was no time to dodge... Cray was knocked sprawling by the blast and picked up a great deal many more small wounds from the stone chips and shrapnel bits that embedded themselves in his skin. "Now I'm really fucking pissed!" Cray shouted, lurching back to his feet, guns still gripped tightly in either hand. He fired the cannon in the general direction of the enemy and unloaded both barrels of the elephant gun right after it. His shots went long, blowing apart trees and bushes at the edge of the tree line. The blond girl popped up from behind a rock about three quarters of the way down the slope and fired two rounds, one of which passed through Cray's upper right shoulder in a bright arc of blood and a brief flash of pain. He ignored the minor wound... it was barely a scratch compared to the punishment he usually took during training exercises. The girl dropped back into cover before Cray could do more than turn in her direction. He dropped the elephant gun and cannon... they'd take too long to reload for the moment. Cray swung the gatling gun around to his right hand and unslung the flechette rifle with his left hand... he was done with precision fire, it was time to saturate. He aimed both weapons at where he'd seen the girl disappear and let rip... slowly walking the gatling fire to the right and the coughing flechette rounds to the left. Flechette's were bundles of tiny soft steel needles, about twenty to a bundle. Each needle had razor sharp dart like fletching and when they struck an unarmored or lightly armored target, they deformed and bounced around... usually inside the target, shredding the flesh as they went. Their bouncing potential was obscene... a dart that hit in the knee could ricochet up and lodge in the brain pan of an unlucky subject. The problem with the darts was that most types of armor stopped them cold... a man in a flack jacket could take an entire bundle to the chest and come through with only a few pinpricks. Of course his targets did not enjoy the luxury of such protection... worse luck for them.

Katie was belly crawling down the mountainside alongside Ysak. In truth Ysak was mostly on top of her in a shielding gesture that probably would have appeared more than a little inappropriate under most other circumstances... in order for them both to make use of the available cover, he had to press down pretty hard with himelf on top of her as they scooted along in tandem... not that she particularly minded. She knew she was running on an emotional high, staving off the grief and depression by ignoring them like they didn't exist... which was fine for the moment, considering they were in life threatening danger. But once they escaped she knew she was going to have a breakdown, or something near to it. And who could she turn to in order to find comfort? Hopefully her adopted bigger sister Raine and Uncle Alkire and Vladimir. But also Ysak... Katie decided right then and there, while scraping along on her chest down the mountainside, that her room would never be a single occupancy... if Chanel couldn't be there then Ysak would have to fill in. There wasn't going to be an option for him... protestations about rushing things or not. A private dirty part of her mind wondered what it'd be like to be in his mind while he was in her... Katie shook her head and blinked a few times... now wasn't the time for that. She might not even make it that far if she kept getting distracted... the whirring sound of the gatling gun raking its fire across the rocks was coming back as Cray tried to wrinkle them out of their hiding places. The soft "tink" sound of flechette rounds pinging off nearby rocks had her keeping her head so low it was practically pushing up a wave of dirt... a flechette round would dramatically ruin her day if it hit her. Then, almost without warning, they had gained the cover of the jungle. Ysak pushed them both a few more feet before rising to a crouch. Cray was still shooting up the mountainside behind them... he'd yet to consider that they might have made good their escape. Ysak was just looking back with a cocky smile when the sound of gunshots came to them from the jungle ahead... they both whirled around and stared into the impenetrable depths of the forest... Frost was out there. Attacking their friends. They looked at each other and sprinted off, heading towards the sounds of the gunshots.

About five minutes prior, just before Cray had fired his first cannon shot, Kira and Lacus had at last stumbled upon the hidden hanger. It was, in fact, quite well hidden... almost too well hidden... even with Ashino's map they almost walked right by it. As things turned out, if Kira hadn't spun around in surprise at the sound of the cannon explosion, they would have missed it. It was as he spun around backward to locate the source of the noise that he spied a slight red glinting reflection of red road tape that was nailed to the lower part of a branch draped over the forest camouflage net that made the hanger look more like a small hill of dirty, decaying leaves and tree debris. Through careful if worried study and work over the next several minutes, Kira managed to clear a path through the debris and camouflage to reveal the dark green and brown painted metal walls of the hanger, constantly looking off into the jungle, trying in vain to pinpoint the source of the gunfire and explosions he heard. He was paying so much attention to the hanger and the battle between Cray and Ysak and Katie that he neglected to watch his immediate surroundings. Lacus had of course stayed close to him... not least because being close to Kira was about as close to safe as she could be. She too was worried by the sounds of battle... to not worry would be impossible for her. However, she wasn't so distracted that she heard the not so stealthy sound of a person scrambling through the jungle about fifty feet away, just out of sight. A sudden bad premonition stole over her and she narrowed her eyes as she studied the area closely. It didn't sound like a noise one of her friends would have made... Dearka and Miriallia were coming up the path about thirty feet away, while Athrun and Cagalli were limping at speed down the path about two hundred feet further back, just coming around the final bend in the trail. A lull in the battle noise allowed her to hear a distinct rasping metallic double click and finally her keen eyes picked out two too regular shapes projecting from the shadows of a tree about forty feet off further into the jungle to her right. Thought met action in a sequence of events that remained a blur to her no matter how much she tried to recall it afterwards... she threw herself forward towards Kira, arms outstretched and mouth open in a cry she could not hear. Kira jumped, startled almost out of his wits as Lacus cried out and tackled him, shoving him forward and to the side.

He wasn't startled long... the reason for her impulsive action became almost immediately clear to him... with twin small thunderclaps, Frost fired both magnum revolvers at the place where Kira had formerly been standing. It was a long shot for the short barreled and notoriously heavy kicking pistol, but Frost was strong enough to handle the recoil like it was a water pistol and he held both barrels on target. One bullet would have crashed through Kira's skull, right at the back of the head, while the other would have blown his spine out through his kidneys. Unfortunately, despite his good aim, his revenge upon the brown haired Coordinator was delayed once again, unexpectedly. Showing gumption and courage of a sort that Frost had yet to see in her, Pink threw herself at her pathetic boyfriend and knocked him out of the way, just a few fractions of a second before he fired... she must have spotted him or heard him click the hammers back on the pistols... his cover noise had faded most inconvieniently at that moment... such a thing was not unheard of for a Coordinator to be able to do, especially one with as fine an ear for sound as Lacus Clyne. Frost swore loudly... killing Pink would utterly ruin his good day... well, killing her with gunshots at long range would anyway. But some luck remained with him... she was shorter than Yamato and so that bullet went high, flicking through a few strands of her hair as it passed. The second round just barely grazed her leg, but still dug a bloody trench through the muscle of her calf and sent her spinning from her feet... they did't call the .357 a beast of a gun for no reason... a single shot could throw a full grown man six feet back through the air with a chest shot. Both man stopping bullets struck trees, blowing huge craters full of pulped sap and wood in the trunks. Frost snarled and aimed again, firing off another round from each gun, mostly in rage rather than in any sort of actual plan or desire to kill.

Both of his second rounds missed as well, though they did send Dearka and Miriallia diving for cover of their own as one bullet glanced off a rock in the middle of the path, shattering it into a hundred shards. The last round fired passed completely through the moist and soft trunk of the tree Kira was crouched behind, passing within a few inches of his head before whining off into the jungle, spraying him with slimy wet detrius from the rotten tree as it did. Frost regained control of himself and holstered the pistols, drawing out his replacement chainblade machetes and thumbing the activation buttons. Both blades kicked to life with meaty whines of hellish mechanical hunger... a keen echo to the emotion that filled him as he stood poised, soaking in the moment. Dearka popped his head and torso out of cover, swiveling rapidly about as he looked for a target... it took him no longer than three seconds to pinpoint the source of the chainsaw sounds. Frost was still standing there, shivering in what must have been delight, considering the full grin and wild eyed expression that were plastered on his face. Dearka took an instant more to aim and fired off four bullets... one to the right, two directly at Frost and one to the left... Dearka knew what this particular foe could do and also knew that unless he fought smart he would have no chance... he'd have to anticipate in order to win. Frost noted the four bullets whizzing towards him... they moved like tiny fastballs in the murk of the jungle. He saw one was going right and so he ignored it... two more were on target and so he started to step to the left... right into the path of the fourth bullet, which creased the skin along his temple with a feeling like someone flicked him hard with a finger and a sound like a zipper being zipped. A thin line of blood drifted down the side of his head... barely a trickle, which quickly gummed up and stopped. Frost wasted no more time... he charged, flitting through the forest like a phantom, never moving in a straight line, never moving in the same way one moment as the moment before. He loped along hunched low only to spring up into a forward rolling jump and then dive left in a flat out sprint before spinning behind a clump of trees and running up a trunk to prance through the lower branches for a moment, before dropped down and skittering along on his knees... all the while shrieking and gibbering in the most maniacal way he could manage, slashing the air and the plants around him with his blades... a calculated strategy of terror.

Kira had belly crawled over to where Lacus lay, his eyes wide with fear... he hadn't seen it, but he'd heard the distinctive sound of someone getting hit with a fast moving object just after he'd gotten pushed away from the gunfire. Lacus had fallen to the ground heavily right after she pushed him and while he did not think she'd been killed... he would have felt it in some way, he was positive... that didn't prevent him from having his heart jump into his mouth. When he saw the blood on her leg and hands his heart nearly stopped, but he rapidly noticed that she wasn't really bleeding as bad as all that. Blood was not puddling all over the ground or jetting around wildly and she wasn't screaming or anything, though that was likely due to the fact that she was somewhat in shock. He gently eased her hands away from her leg and felt for the wound... he breathed a big sigh of relief... it wasn't a direct hit, which probably would have taken off her leg below the knee. No, it was just a graze... painful and bloody but not life threatening. She wouldn't be able to move far and when she did move she wouldn't move fast, but she didn't have to be carried. Right now Kira didn't think they could spare the person power to carry anyone else. "I can't believe you did that." Kira hissed, his worry overcoming him and making his voice harsher than he intended. Lacus stared him in the eyes and half smiled.

"Come now, Kira... how could I not? You would have done the same for me without pausing to consider you might get hurt... how can it be unbelievable that I would reciprocate?" she winced and let out a small gasp. "It hurts... but it'll get better. If you got shot and killed when I was able to save you but didn't, I wouldn't get better afterwards."

"Lacus..." Kira started to say. She placed a finger on his lips to quiet him.

"Now is not the time. Now is the time to fight for our survival. You go help Dearka, Miriallia and the others. I'm going to go help Cagalli and Athrun get to the jet, so we can have it warmed up and ready to take off. Hopefully it will have a long range communication set of some sort, so I can call the Archangel for help. Now go. And be careful... come back to me, Kira. Promise you will." Lacus commanded. Kira nodded his head.

"You know I will. You be careful too." Kira clasped hands with her for a brief second and then was up and sprinting towards the sounds of combat coming from not very far off into the jungle. Lacus gritted her teeth and tore a strip of cloth from the evening dress she was still wearing from the wedding, she used the dirty and soiled cloth to bind her leg wound... asking for infection but right now she needed to stop the bleeding... she could worry about getting sick later. Within thirty seconds her bandage was complete and she used a tree to pull herself to her feet. Her leg burned like fire when she placed weight on it, but she could move. She started off towards the hanger, limping as fast as she could manage. She noted with relief that Athrun and Cagalli were making a beeline towards her, rather than towards the fighting. Lacus waved and pointed towards the hanger, pointing it out to them as they clearly hadn't seen it. Cagalli and Athrun quickly altered course and they reached the camouflaged hanger just about the same time Lacus did.

This was also roughly the same time that Kira burst unto the running battle between Frost, Dearka and Miriallia like an eagle stooping onto a falcon. Dearka had been doing a lot more running than battling... he couldn't draw a steady bead on the raving Frost as he gambooled through the jungle and he didn't want to waste ammo... he had forty shots and that was it. Dearka had managed to maintain a good ten meters between him and the dark haired freak, but he was getting pushed farther and farther away from Miriallia and the others. He was starting to suspect that he was being herded away. His suspicions were confirmed when Frost let out a bloodcurdling shriek of triumph and spun away from him, orienting on Miriallia, who had been cautiously trying to get into position to drop a grenade into Frost's flank area. Miriallia froze... she couldn't help herself... that keening cry awoke all sorts of terrible nightmares from her last encounter with Frost and she couldn't stop herself from being paralyzed with fright. She stood, trembling slightly, still as a deer in headlights, grenade clenched tight in one white knuckled fist, about twenty meters from Frost. Dearka swore and opened fire, trying to pull Frost's attention back towards himself. Though one shot bored a blood rimmed hole through Frost's left hip, the little madman just laughed it off and charged at the helpless Miriallia. Dearka swore louder and ran after him... but he knew there was no way he could possibly move fast enough to stop Frost. This was when Kira appeared, stepping almost magically around a tree at full sprint and cold clocking Frost from the side, catching him completely by surprise with a nasty full body check. Kira was by far the slighter of the two and so he rebounded almost at once, falling back and landing roughly on his ass a few feet away. Frost wasn't actually knocked off his feet by the impact... his center of gravity was a hair too low for that, but his balance was so incredibly ruined that he could not avoid tripping over a very solid root and taking a running faceplant into a treetrunk... one of the few non-rotten trunks in the area. The was a wet "snap" as Frost's nose broke and a louder "th-crack" as his face gouged a divot in the hard wood of the tree trunk. The impact jarred his grip on his chainblade machete's loose and both weapons dropped to the ground, one dragging itself for nearly ten feet on its whirring teeth before the safety override killed the motor.

It was all the time Dearka needed... he caught up to where Frost was while the BCPU was still re-orienting himself from his tumble. Kira was just pulling himself to his feet off to the side and Miriallia had unfrozen long enough to start inching away, headed for cover. Dearka wasted no time on words or even sounds... he stopped, aimed and fired for all he was worth from less than ten feet away. Frost spun and leaped and gyrated and managed to avoid the worst of it, but could not avoid taking several bullets to the arms and legs and even two to the upper chest, just below his right collarbone. No vital spots were struck, but the wounds were painful and the energy it would take to heal them would detract from his combat effectiveness. Frost snarled and let the wounds bleed... he had more important uses for his energy than just stopping a little pain. Dearka's gun clacked open empty. He reloaded as quickly as he could but he knew he was going to be too slow... he'd done his best and it just hadn't been enough. Frost snatched up the chainblade that hadn't run away and slowly advanced on the reloading Coordinator. He'd intended to take the girl first, cause he knew it would tear this guy to pieces... but flexibility was a virtue... he'd do the guy first for a change. Frost was just about to start the disemboweling swing when a familiar noise ratched up from behind him... the other chainblade motor. Frost spun and brought his machete up in a reflexive block that intercepted Kira's downward chop only inches from Frost's face. Both blades howled and shuddered violently as their rapidly spinning teeth clattered and sparked off each other. Kira tried to bear down with his newfound weapon but didn't have the strength or mass to accomplish his goal. Frost gave way momentarily before tiliting his weapon to the side and letting Kira's momentum slide him down and away... perfectly in position to be batted away like a large doll by Frost's sucker punch. Kira slammed backwards into a rotten tree, the impact jarring his grip loose on his stolen sword, which dropped into the mulchy ground at his feet and growled to a stop.

Frost smirked... this was like a gift... here he was, armed with a small chainsaw, and Kira Yamato was barely four feet away, dazed and helpess and unarmed... it was almost too good to be true. He raised his own sword for a decapitating slice. Fate denied him again... it was almost like Kira had some destiny that was more important than Frost's own, impossible though Frost found that concept to be. But what else could explain such phenominal luck? Dearka had finished reloading and opened fire again, shooting a bit high this time, but five bullets struck Frost's upraised sword hand almost as one. They didn't quite blow his hand off, but they did tear his palm open something good, and broke four fingers in several places each. The chainblade sword dropped almost straight down and chewed through the top of his right foot, pinning him to the ground for a moment. It was almost comical, in some ways... something you might expect to see of a cartoon villian in some unexpectedly bloody kid's show. Frost screamed... that had actually hurt pretty bad. But pretty bad was just enough to get him really mad. His hands... even the wounded one... flashed into his uniform shirt pockets, emerging with three triangular bladed throwing daggers each. One dagger ruined the gun by lodging in the barrel. Two more... the ones tossed by the wounded hand... missed wide. One more Dearka managed to dodge on his own power. But two struck home... one in the right shoulder and the other in the left arm... it had been aimed at the throat but the arm had lifted in the way, partially by design and partially by accident. Both blades sunk deep and started to twist and saw with their serrated edges as Dearka moved the muscles around them... the weapons were designed like the broad headed war arrows of times past... once they were in a wound they stuck there until cut out, cutting away every time the person moved. Very painful and very debilitating in terms of long term blood loss. Derak fell back and away with a double cry of shock and agony. Kira noticed what effect this cry had upon Miriallia and he dived for cover. Frost was just drawing his paired combat knives when Miriallia's first grenade struck him squarely in the back of his head. Frost thought it was a stone at first, until he noticed the black metal sphere lying on the ground almost between his legs. He tried to jump away... but his foot was still pinned to the ground by the chainblade machete sticking through it. "BITCH!" Frost cried just before the grenade detonated. Miriallia's second grenade landed in the middle of the first explosion and detonated a second later, further obscuring the area with fire and bits of smoking wood debris. For a second she thought the nightmare was over... but then a short, ragged figure started to take shape in the midst of the blast areas... a laughing, crying figure.


	61. The End of JIHAD

Cagalli left Athrun holding himself up on the doorway into the hanger and helped Lacus start throwing the dust tarps off the aircraft that sat in the hanger. It wasn't much to look at... just a boxy passenger section between two wings fitted with VTOL engines and a tiny cockpit. There were no weapons and precious little armor... plainly it was designed for an extreme last resort... a determined soldier could probably shoot it down with a rifle, assuming he had the time to place his shots. But to Cagalli, tired, hungry, emotionally worn out, it looked nearly as good as the Archangel itself. She looked over her shoulder at Athrun. "Tell everyone to get their asses over here as fast as they can. I'm going to start a preflight and see if I can't get some feel for the controls on this thing... it can't be that complicated." Cagalli started to pull herself up into the cockpit... there was no ladder and she struggled a bit. She noticed Lacus entering the passenger compartment through a set of folding stairs at the back of the aircraft. "Hey... Lacus... what are you doing?" Cagalli called.

"I'm checking to see if this vehicle has a communication system... one would think an emergency escape vehicle would have something to call for help with." Lacus responded, her voice muffled from inside the passenger compartment, which was bare of comfort. Just ten bucket seats with nylon restraints, a plain metal floor and a single communications terminal tucked into the wall next to the hatch leading to the cockpit. Lacus opened this hatch in time to help Cagalli scramble up into the open cockpit... Cagalli muttered something under her breath about ladders and doors. Lacus wasn't paying attention, she was concentratiung on booting up the communication system. The aircraft was not new, and it hadn't been maintained in what looked like months, so it took it nearly fifteen seconds to warm up and turn on... almost an enternity to her perceptions, listing to the muted explosions and gunfire outside. She clicked frantically through the boot up options and finally managed to get to the long range communications program. She selected the international rescue channel... so what if the enemy could hear her too... they already knew they were out here... the Archangel didn't. She just hoped she could reach them... N-Jammer's were still embedded deep in the Earth's crust all over the planet and they played all sorts of havoc with radio and radar signals. She took a moment to compose herself and hit the transmit button, smiling slightly as she listen to Cagalli muttering curses to herself as she stumbled through turning the aircraft on and powering up its systems, including the ones that opened the roof of the hanger so they could fly out when the time came.

Ysak and Katie had finally managed to catch up with everyone else. They too ran past the hanger at first, until the roof opened up like a gaint clam, spilling dirt, debris and camouflage netting everywhere. They had been heading towards the recent double blast sound of multiple grenades detonating, but pulled up when they noticed the hanger. _BEEP! I'll secure the hanger and our backtrail. You go help whoever is chucking the grenades._ Katie's order appeared in his mind like water jetting from a fountain. Ysak shivered and gave her a very annoyed glance... he hoped she realized how strange he found being contacted by her mind. Why couldn't she just talk like a normal person, for chrissakes? _BEEP! Because if I speak out loud someone else might overhear... we may have given Cray the slip, but I don't think we've lost him for good. Wouldn't want him to hear about us splitting our forces... we don't know how keen his hearing is. I want him to think he's facing both of us whenever he does show up... if nothing else he'll probably waste some firepower trying to take two people out at once, rather than just one._ Ysak turned the glance into a smoldering glare... bad enough she had to talk to him telepathically... reading his thoughts before he could speak them... that really rubbed him the wrong way. _BEEP! Stop grousing and get going... we can work on privacy and stuff like that later, assuming we survive. Love you._ Katie turned and sprinted off towards the hanger without a backward glance or another word... err, thought. Ysak shook his head and noticed his vision was starting to blur a little... his body was starting to succumb to fatigue, even if he still felt fine. He'd have to watch it... it wouldn't do to just faint from exhaustion in the middle of a firefight.

Ysak didn't have far to go before he could make out Miriallia, Dearka and Kira standing in a rough triangle, each about fifteen or twenty meters from the next. Between them was a slowly clearing cloud of smoke, with scattered piles of burning wood chips all throughout the jungle around the smokey area. Obviously that was where the high explosive grenades had gone off. Then Ysak heard the laughter... the maniacal, hitching, stuttering freakish laughter of a former man who has suffered trials and tribulations and wounds beyond the understanding of most mortals having been recently pushed beyond an entirely new edge. Frost had taken the brunt of both grenade blasts and was quite the worse for the wear because of it. He wasn't dead... no, far from it, though he should have been lying around the jungle in little meaty pieces. But the first blast had freed his foot from its blade pin and he'd managed to roll with the second blast, negating much of its force. Most of his clothes hadn't been so lucky... what hadn't been ripped off from the blast waves had been mostly charred to ash, leaving him in threads and patches of a uniform. His skin was deeply bruised over ninety percent of his body and his chest, arms, legs, back and face sported large patches of shiny burned and blistering skin. A few places were even charred and smoking. Flesh had been almost entirely stripped from his right foot, leaving the muscle and bone exposed almost to the ankle, fully revealing the two inch wide hole bored through the top of the foot. There was little blood... most of the wounds were cauterized by the heat in the blasts, and the BCPU blood clotting forumla took care of the rest. Frost had lost most of his hair, burned off along with his eyebrows. His mouth was bleeding freely, his saliva interfering with the blood coagulant to keep it flowing, rich and wet, staining his teeth bright red and dripping down his jaw in a froth. His nose was crushed over to one side and deformed from some incredible impact. If Ysak had been him, he wouldn't have been standing... much less laughing. But Ysak reminded himself again, this foe in front of him was not human... not any more.

Frost was reveling in the agony... it burned so badly he almost felt sure he really was awake... a refreshing certainty for a man who could not tell psychotic delusion from reality most of the time. He was also inventoring his remaining weapons with one part of his mind, and evaluating his foes with another. He'd lost his combat knives in the explosions... his chainblades were likewise ruined. He'd lost his gun holsters when he'd lost his clothing... the guns were nearby but were probably jammed with dirt. His scythe was lying at his feet, handle charred but still strong. And he still wore the paired longswords on shoulder belts... the leather belts had resisted the blasts better than his polyester clothing. He'd never used the swords before, but he knew the basic idea... hit the other guy with the point or edge and watch them bleed to death very rapidly. Disregarding the scythe for the moment, Zacharis whipped out both swords, appreciating how the blades glimmered in the dim jungle light. He'd noticed Ysak's arrival and had particularly noted the three grenades the Coordinator possessed... fragmentation grenades by their look. Full of sharp metal bits that would shred even him and spread his gory remains over a large portion of the jungle nearby if he was too close when they went off. That was the priorty threat... the gun was on its last bit of ammo and the knife the Coordinator Ysak had was less than no threat... imagine, using a blade against him, Zacharis Frost! It was a ludicrous thought. He charged directly for Ysak, limping slightly on his ravaged foot... not from pain but becuase the shape of the foot had been altered by the damage, messing with his balance.

Dearka opened fire with measured shots, conserving his last clip as much as possible. He tried to shoot for the legs... one of Frost's biggest advantages was his speed and maneuverability... if Dearka could lame him the fight would become exponentially easier. But for all his hurts, Frost still managed to dredge up the gumption to twist and writhe his limbs and body out of the path of nearly every shot... and the few shots that did hit were merely grazes... one of them didn't even bleed. Kira had found a large, solid tree branch and was approaching Frost at an angle, hoping to at least throw him off balance again. Miriallia retreated towards the hanger, having no remaining weapons, she couldn't contribute to the fight and would only be a liability... a distraction to Dearka when he had to protect her against Frost. Ysak almost casually flipped a grenade into his hand and lobbed it underhand in an easy arc towards Frost. The grenade was aimed to land almost directly beneath Frost's legs. But one sword licked out and slammed the grenade away with a ring of metal on metal, with fat orange sparks jumping from the point of impact. The grenade didn't fly far before detonating... but it flew far enough to spare Frost more than minor damage from shrapnel. Barely anything at all compared to his current wounds. Ysak scrabbled for another grenade with one hand while he drew and held the suddenly tiny looking combat knife with his other hand. Thoughts flashed through his head. _What exactly does one do when armed with only a knife and fighting a bona fide monster with two full sized swords? He has all the advantages... speed, strength, reach, blade length, blade weight... if I parry the knife will probably snap right in half and then the next blow will split me like a chicken on the block. Am I screwed this time? No... gotta think... there's a way out of this bind... there has to be. Have to... have to dodge the first couple attacks... got to let Kira catch up so we can double team him. Ah... fuck... I don't know if I can do that... well, no other option... here goes._ Ysak clenched his fist around the unprimed grenade and threw it like a fastball directly at Frost, who was less than ten feet away. Again the metal sphere was batted away, but it did not explode... it just rolled off into the jungle underbrush and was quickly lost to sight.

However, that was just fine for Ysak. Frost had been forced to move one sword out of position to bat the grenade away and not even Frost was fast enough to bring it back into striking position in the three steps it took him to reach Ysak. Ysak judged his moment as carefully as only one with more than just his own life riding the line can and stuck his knife out just in time to deflect Frost's cleaving swing slightly... instead of cutting down through his left shoulder blade and lodging in his heart the sword blade just scraped a few layers of skin off his upper left arm, peeling it away like a potato peeler. Ysak reacted to trip Zacharis and immediately regretted it... the BCPU outweighed him by a significant margin, despite being much shorter than him... Ysak's shin was bulled out of the way and deeply bruised, while Zacharis barely even felt the collision as he thundered by. Kira breezed by not a moment later, throwing Ysak a significant look as he passed. Plainly they had been thinking along similar lines... alone they stood no chance in melee, but with two on one odds they had a smidgeon of a chance of emerging victorious. Frost turned on his ravaged foot with only hint of discomfort, to meet Kira's tree branch squarely with his jaw. Tooth chips flew and Frost's head snapped back like a balloon on a string, but he did not fall. Or even stagger. He just started giggling again, his face locked in a rictus that had nothing but death and rage on it. Frost's eyes were dull and unfocused... whatever human intelligence sometimes inhabited his mind was currently out for lunch. And maybe for dinner and breakfast the next morning too. Kira pulled his branch back for another try. Dearka was trying to get an angle for a final headshot, and Ysak was edging in, knife raised, to help Kira out.

Meanwhile, back at the hanger, Miriallia had returned with the news that Ysak, Kira and Dearka were engaged against a badly wounded Frost and had seemed to be holding their own last she saw. She entered the aircraft just as Lacus was starting her message. Athrun limped outside and passed Katie. "Where do you think you're going, Mr. Walking Wounded?" She asked him.

"I've got to get the word to Kira and Ysak and Dearka... the jet is ready to take off... once they board we can get the hell out of here." Athrun replied hurriedly, not stopping to look at her as he tried to orient himself on the sounds of combat.

"Don't worry about it... I've got it covered for you. I'll let Ysak know and he can tell the others. Hell, I'll also tell Kira." Katie assured him. She did not rise from her guarding position.

"Well... aren't you going to get up... I doubt they'll hear you shouting from her... oh, you meant you'll beepcall them, or whatever it's called, right?" Athrun slowly turned around and limped back towards the hanger entrance.

"You're not as conservative as you look, you know? I can see why Cagalli likes you... it's taking Ysak absolute ages to come to terms with my Newtype powers... but you, you speak of them like they're just like that." Katie tossed her head slightly. "Yeah, since Ysak and Kira are Latents, it'll be much easier for me to just beepcall them... much safer too. Won't even have to leave the hanger area. You should get yer hurt ass inside and into a chair... you won't do anyone any good as anything but a target out here."

"Good idea... I hurt all over." Athrun started to smile. His smile dropped away when he heard a whirring sound that was quite out of place... something beyond the faint noises of the VTOL aircraft warming up. This sound was much closer and louder... and it was coming from off in the jungle. It sounded like something spooling up to speed... Athrun didn't have to think of what that might mean. He dived at Katie and bore them both behind cover behind a very sturdy looking tree. Katie was just opening her mouth to shout a protest when Cray opened up with a long blurt from the gatling gun, sending shredded leaves and plant mulch flying like horizontal rain. He'd been delayed by having to go back to the hill to pick up his discarded weapons, and then he'd been further delayed by getting turned around in the forest for a few minutes. Having to tear his weapons free of entangling plants every few meters hadn't helped his progress or his mood. But then he'd seen the top of a mound of leaves lever up and away with a hydraulic whine and he knew he'd found them. He'd just kill the ones at the hanger and blow up the aircraft... that'd sure ruin their day. He raised the gatling gun in his right hand and braced the reloaded elephant gun in his left... he'd hose the area down for a bit and then use the elephant gun to blow them out of cover. A tremendous roaring noise reverberated down through the mountains, but Cray ignored it... thunder or something else inconsequential to the here and now.

Waltfeld nearly spit out his sip of calming coffee when Lacus's voice suddenly came blasting over the bridge speakers at a volume he would have found more at place at a heavy metal concert than on the bridge of a warship. A crewmember winced apologetically and dialled down the bridge speakers several notches. "This is Lacus Clyne speaking. Archangel, can you hear me? I repeat, this is Lacus Clyne speaking and this is an emergency. We have been captured by the enemy and have only recently managed to break loose. We are currently engaged by superior enemy forces... Zacharis Frost and another like him, plus Blue Cosmos is sure to have soldiers on the way as well. I don't know where we are... in some mountainous jungles. If you can hear me, please lock onto this signal and get here as fast as you can... we'll try to hold out as best we can. Our situation is dire, please hurry." The bridge was silent as a tomb... for a signal to come in so loud and clear they had to be practically on top of it. They were still several miles from the estimated position where Asmodeus's jet had landed and they hadn't expected the kids to break free on their own... none of them were trained in breakout procedures. Well, Athrun, Dearka and Ysak were, and Cagalli had some training, but they weren't tried and true experts like the TEMPEST members were.

"This is Lacus Clyne speaking. Archangel, can you hear me? I repeat, this is Lacus Clyne speaking and this is an emergency. We have been captured by the enemy and have only recently managed to break loose. We are currently engaged by superior enemy forces... " Lacus started to repeat herself just as the sound of rapid machine gun fire cut into the background of the transmission, along with the sound of Miriallia shrieking and Cagalli swearing.

"That's a gatling gun... 5mm by the sound." Alkire suddenly found his voice. He spun towards a random bridge member. "Where is the signal coming from?" he demanded. On the other side of the bridge, the communications specialist looked at Murrue. She nodded hurriedly.

"The computer estimates that the communication is coming from the next valley over, about a half mile ahead." The crewman replied calmly. "I've contacted the international channel... speak and she'll hear you."

Murrue snatched up the phone so fast she didn't even remember doing it. "Lacus, this is Murrue. We hear you loud and clear."

"Ms. Murrue? I wasn't expecting you to respond so quickly... the airwaves must have cleared more than I thought." Lacus sounded surprised. Gunfire still pounded in the background, the whine of the machine gun being cut off and replaced with two heavy explosions of noise, like small thunderclaps. Cagalli was still swearing, but Miriallia had apparently calmed herself, because she was no longer screaming.

"Sounds like a double action, single shot rifle of heavy caliber... a hunting weapon maybe? I don't know... that didn't sound like any gun I've ever heard before..." Alkire muttered to himself. Murrue spared him hardly a glance... all well and good that he could identify weapons by sound, but it currently wasn't important.

"We're actually in the area already... about half a mile away, just over the ridgeline. You should be able to hear our engines, assuming the gunfire stops for any length of time. We were on our way to a supposed Earth Alliance base in the area, to free you. Alkire and his friends broke out of their jail and traced Asmodeus Sark to this location. We met up with them and learned about what happened at the wedding. Then we came here with all possible speed. Hold on just a little longer... we'll be over your position in less than five minutes."

"We'll try... I think Athrun and Katie are fighting one of the BCPU's... Cray, I think... just outside the hanger. Kira, Ysak and Dearka are engaged with Frost some distance away... please hurry... we're nearly out of weapons and ammunition and we cannot fight these enemies unarmed. We've got a lot of walking wounded... I don't think a single one of us is unhurt in some fashion, some worse than others. Please have doctors standing by when we get on board... we're going to need treatment."

"I can imagine... being trapped in a Blue Cosmos stronghold for days, fighting a running, underdog battle through a mountain jungle afterwards... they're going to be hurt real bad. best tell those docs to have the intensive care ready." Alkire said grimly. "I'm going to go get a rescue party organized and prepped. Just put us over their position and we'll get to them. We'll bring them all back safe, as long as we get there in time." He walked briskly to the bridge elevator and stabbed the down button.

"Understood. Give those Blue Cosmos bastards hell for me." Murrue replied. She turned to the rest of the crew. "All hands to battle stations. I repeat, all hands to battle stations. CIC... any sign of the Earth Alliance base... it's probably buried in one of these mountains?"

"I don't... never mind that... I've got a runway... international jet sized. Looks like a civilian type airport, though it's only got the one runway. Wait... theres more... now I'm starting to get a whole bunch of stuff. Roads... power sources... heat sinks on the mountain sides... my god, this facility is massive... it's about half the size of JOSH-A! We've been within it's perimeter for the past three minutes! I'm getting a military airfield now... radar towers... large hangers... several roads leading into mountainsides... those must be factories... this place is a production facility of some sort."

"We're being scanned by radar. Power sources consitent with standard Alliance weapon emplacements are powering up. We've been targeted. Jets scrambling at the military airfield... I've got long range visuals on tanks and missile trucks pulling out of garages and heading our way." another crewperson cut in. "Wait one... mobile suit signatures confirmed. Multiple Strike Daggers and multiple Strike Crusaders powering up and inbound. We've stepped into a hornet's nest here, ma'am."

"Activate ECM and jamming gear. Bring power up to combat maximum. Activate the Iegelstellung and Valiants. Bring the Gottfried's up to full power and keep the targeting systems running hot." Waltfeld ordered. "Load all missile tubes with Sledgehammer anti-mobile suit missiles. I want the Helldarts set to volley fire... we have no allied units in the area and frankly I don't care about blasting up some mountains... we can't let them surround us. Lower hull Iegelstellung, go to manual control to support our troops on the ground. Valiant's target the vehicles, Gottfrieds and missile tubes concentrate on the mobile suits and base emplacements. Lets be sharp people... we can't afford mistakes."

"LOCK AND LOAD! We've got an emergency rescue mission! Get Hot GET HOT **GET HOT!**" Alkire cried as he charged into the meeting room where the other members of TEMPEST had been whittling away the hours inventorying what gear they had kept on the Archangel or what they could acquire from its weapon lockers, which was actually quite a lot. "The kid's are up to their nether regions in bloody war, they're outnumbered, out gunned and pinned down by superior foes. Unless we get there in the next five minutes ago, they're all probably going to go the way of the Alamo." He shrugged into a bulletproof vest as he talked. The members of TEMPEST did not ask questions... they trusted him to be serious about serious shit... they could easily hear the urgency in his voice and they knew this was no drill. James was already clad in armored vest and coveralls, he started helping Victor collect up his explosives and secure them to his body. Vladimir and Raine helped each other dress and don their weapon harnesses. Alkire buckled on his pistol belt and took a full bandoleer of grenades... mixed fire, smoke and frag. He strapped a portable med kit to one thigh... no reason to wait for the docs to start helping the wounded. Last he sheathed a combat knife in one boot and gathered up a replacement assault rifle with plenty of ammo. He then grabbed five bundles of long polymer rope and five sliding caribiners. "Muster in the cargo hold, at the ramp. We're doing a free fall deployment. You've got two minutes. Lives are on the line... Chanel's and Katie's lives, among others. We can't let them down."

One minute and twenty three seconds later they were all gathered at the top of the cargo ramp that would descned to allow vehicles bearing stores for the ship to drive up and onto the ship itself to deliver supplies during refueling and rest periods. James toted a spare squad level machine gun... not his beloved .50 cal, but the next best thing available. He also had an RPG launcher slung over one shoulder and a box of RPG's at his back, right next to his twin machine pistol holsters. Raine had her backup rifle strapped securely to her back and a assault rifle identical to Alkire's gripped to her chest... the battle would be fast paced, not a sniper fight in all likelyhood. Victor had two pistols and his sword, plus all sorts of grenades and satchel type charges. Vlad had a combat shotgun, plus his silenced pistol and garrotte. He also carried a medical kit. Everyone was armored and filled up with ammo. They each clipped a caribiner to their belt and ran the rope through the windings, attaching a manual brake a foot or two further up the line from the caribiner. The ropes were tied off to a support beam and each had more than three hundred feet of slack. Alkire hit the manual control for the cargo ramp after a brief consultation with the bridge... a conversation backlit by the hectic sounds of incoming fire and fast approaching enemies filtering around the bridge. The ramp opened and gave them a view of the impentrable jungle canopy below. There was a single slightly too regular patch of thinner growth... the location of the hanger where the kids were supposed to be. Alkire steped out into space and let himself fall, followed instants later by his friends.

Kira swung his wooden club at Frost's head again, but was blocked by a sword. Kira almost lost his hand to the other blade, he barely managed to pull back in time, throwing himself slightly off balance in the process. Frost raised his arms for the killstrokes, but was interrupted by a near simultaneous shot from Dearka and stab from Ysak. The stab glanced along the bone of his right arm, the shot tugged at his left shin, and combined it totally ruined his attack. Frost howled in rage... how many times would Yamato cheat righteous death? Frost chopped at Ysak, who danced back out of the way and deflected a bullet from Dearka with the other sword, the impact of which bent the blade slightly. The air filled with a roaring sound none of them had time to consider... a moments distraction was to invite death with open arms in this fight. Dearka had hit upon an idea and he fired a steady stream of bullets at Frost, expending his last ten bullets in less than three seconds. Frost deflected them all with his swords... but one finally snapped under the repeated high velocity impacts it was never designed to resist. Frost dropped the useless blade and threw the other at Dearka in a fit of thoughtless rage. Not weighted for throwing, the sword turned over and struck hilt first... popping a rib out of place and throwing Dearka backwards and to the ground as if he been yanked by a rope. His empty gun went flying from his suddenly nerveless fingers and he found himself breathless... and glad beyond belief that the sword had turned over, because otherwise he knew he'd have been a goner.

Kira recovered his balance and poked at Frost with his club. All his caution earned him was a splintered club as the infuriated Frost tore it in half with his hands and then tore the half he had into pieces in a frenzy. The three Coordinators looked at each other... the situation was becoming untenable... they were rapidly running out of weapons. Ysak brought his knife up into a defensive stance... damned if he wasn't going to go down fighting. The roaring noise overhead intensified to bone shaking levels, but the thick jungle canopy overhead blocked out all view of the sky and whatever it was up there making all the noise. Suddenly even the roaring was drowned out by the sound of large explosions, capital ship weapons fire and the afterburner coughs of jets moving at attack speed. It sounded like a small war starting right over their heads. There was so much noise it was impossible to hear anything but conflicting sounds. Ysak suddenly jerked his head slightly to the side, as if someone had surprised him by tapping him on the side of the head. Ysak quickly looked introspective, then flashed to triumphant. Kira tried to ask him what was up, but his voice was drowned out barely after it left his mouth. Suddenly it felt like someone had flicked him between the eyes. _BEEP! Hello Kira, this is Katie. I must say, you're much easier to contact than I thought you would be... you'll have to work on shielding yourself more. I can show you how, later. But that's not what's important. What is important is that the terrible racket overhead is the Archangel fighting againstthe Blue Cosmos defenders of the base. Lacus put out a call for help and apparently they were already right on top of us. Get your butt back to the hanger with Ysak and Dearka so we can get the hell out of here. Oh, and be careful... Cray is prowling around the hanger and he's still armed to the teeth, despite having been engaged with Athrun and I for the past few minutes. Come fast but be careful... we don't need to lose anyone else right at the end. Seeya soon._ Kira shook his head... he couldn't believe he'd just be contacted telepathically... it was just unreal. I mean, sure, he'd picked up a bit on what the Doc had said to Katie during their interrogation with him, but it was all a little... too much. Humans with mental powers... I mean, come on. But then again... ultimate Coordinators like him weren't exactly of the normal remit either... who ever heard of a child birthed entirely by artificial means, anyway?

Ysak was already in motion, hurling his knife at Frost and turning to sprint back towards the hanger. He waved at Dearka and pumped his fist in the signal for retreat they all learned during basic training. Dearka nodded and picked himself up off the ground. Being weaponless, retreat sounded like a very good idea to him. He wasted no time in making good time towards the hanger. Kira brought up the rear, noting how Ysak was starting to weave and stumble a little... it was about time too... Kira himself was feeling like he'd just run twenty miles up hill... he couldn't feel it yet but he could sense how deep and irregular his breathing was, and his clothes were soaked with sweat. He was getting dehydrated... he'd collapse soon if he didn't get some rest and some fluids. Ysak had to be in worse shape than him and Dearka still worse... he had injuries after all. Frost just stood there for a moment, having caught the knife in midair, he'd bent the blade into a U with his hands, disregarding the cuts he inflicted on himself in the process. A wolfish grin spread across his features... he'd almost forgotten about his last remaining weapon. He discarded the ruined knife and dashed off into the forest back towards where he'd been blasted by the grenades... back to collect his trusty scythe. The scythe that would reap the bodies and souls of his enemies at long last.

Athrun burrowed deeper into cover behind his third tree of the brief engagement with Cray. The first tree hadn't been nearly as solid as he'd thought... or maybe elephant guns just had that much penetrating power. He had no idea... he'd never even heard of the powerful hunting rifle outside of ancient movies... elephants had been extinct on Earth outside of zoo's for more than a century. The end result had been both heavy bullets blowing entirely through the tree, spraying him with splinters and gouts of gooey sap as he covered Katie with his body... if either bullet had been six inches lower he probably would have been torn in half. There had followed a brief lull in the firing as Cray stopped to reload and switch out his weapons. Katie had pushed him off her with a nodded thanks and rolled to a kneeling position. She fired off a burst of three rounds to keep Cray ducking and then started crawling towards a hummock of forest debris about fifteen feet to their left. Athrun had moved right, making a lot of noise as a distraction, and folded himself behind the second tree. And not three seconds too soon, because Cray had finished swapping out his guns and had sprayed the tree with scores of razor sharp flechette darts which made evil hissing noises as they buried themselves in the comparatively soft trunk of the tree. Katie started up to fire again but immediately threw herself flat as Cray opened back up with the last rounds of his gatling gun... he was perfectly capable of targeting them both at the same time, one weapon apiece. He even managed a tricky cross fire, crossing his weapons in front of him to put the flechettes on Katie's hummock and the gatling gun on Athrun's tree. Hundreds of low caliber but extremely high velocity bullets chewed into the second tree, chopping it in half about three feet off the ground. Athrun had ducked the first instant the bullets started to strike the tree, and so was unharmed, if quite shaken. One and a quarter seconds after felling the tree, the gatling gun ran dry for the final time and Cray tossed it away with a sigh of disgust.

Cray readjusted his flechette rifle aim and started alternating targets... he'd fire a few shots at Athrun to keep him pinned and then switch back over to Katie before she could pop up and fire at him. Silvery flechette darts decorated the forest like tinsel at christmas time, hundreds of the darts protruded from the thin metal walls of the hanger. Inside the hanger the sound of the jet powering up had not changed, so Athrun assumed it was unharmed, as were the people inside. Or so he fervently hoped and believed... he felt like he would have known somehow if Cagalli or Lacus had been injured or killed. "The Archangel!" Katie suddenly called over to him. "The Archangel is right over head. That's what the noise is!" Athrun could barely hear her over the sounds of the aerial battle going on just over their heads. It had been when he was moving to the first tree that the noise had started and it had only grown louder since it started. He had tried to get a look at what was causing it... it sounded like a capital ship flying very low and engaging multiple targets, but he'd not dared hope it was the Archangel... I mean, who could have expected help to arrive within minutes... he'd been expecting to have to hide out or flee for hours. Cray's flechette rifle had finally run out of ammunition as well, and like the gatling gun, it had been subsequently discarded. Katie had popped up and had fired several bursts at Cray, one of which actually struck him directly across the chest, all three shots striking home in small fountains of gore. One bullet hit his left hip, one his center chest and the last his right shoulder, right next to an earlier bullet wound. Athrun had been immensely cheered... for a moment. But Cray hadn't gone down... he must have been wearing ballistic clothing of some sort, in addition to his natural armoring. The bullet impact points were bloody, but not bleeding and they quickly scabbed over as Athrun watched. Cray moved slightly more stiffly, but it was barely noticable... he ignored the three deep bruises like they were just fly bites.

Cray had snatched his .45 caliber desert eagle pistol from their holsters and had gone gunslinger on their asses. Fingers pumping like pistons, he launched a torrent of bullets out of the gun's, reveling in the hammering recoil and blinding muzzle flashes of two of the heaviest and deadliest pistols ever made. He couldn't resist showing off a little, crossing his arms so his left gun was shooting right and his right gun left. He emptied the twelve round clips in four seconds each and ejected the empty clips with a practiced double thumb flick. Athrun was just peering around the corner of his newly ravaged tree... there were craters all over the side facing Cray, though no bullets had yet penetrated all the way through, when Cray slammed home two new clips from the quick loading harness attached to each holster. Katie made a running dive for the hanger door, just barely making it past eight rushed shots from Cray, none of which missed by more than half an inch. Athrun whipped back into cover and shrank down... he had to think of something... he couldn't make a running dive fast enough to avoid getting shot in his current condition... and if he stayed here much longer his tree was going to get shot full of holes, with him following shortly after. He heard people crashing through the brush towards the hanger... Kira and the others responding to Katie's telepathic call... she must have contacted them while she was pinned down by Cray. His mind was divided... he was glad not to be the only target any more, but unless he did something crazy his friends were going to get gunned down by Cray. Ignoring the burning in his chest Athrun burst for cover, shouting like a mad man and waving his arms. Cray had just been orienting towards the three approaching Coordinators when a target too tempting to ignore appeared before him. Smiling maliciously, he aimed both pistols at Athrun, tracking the notorious Coordinator through the forest with ease. There was about to be one less space monster. Just as he was pulling the trigger a flurry of gunshots shattered the air around the hanger. But they weren't from Cray.

Falling from the sky above, crashing through the foliage like falling stars were five figures dressed in black night camouflage uniforms, hanging onto ropes with one hand and firing weapons with the other. They seemed to be in free fall, not slowed at all by the ropes they were sliding down. Athrun gaped... he'd heard about this sort of thing from back in basic and elite training... this was a fast dismounting or deployment technique used by special forces on both sides when they didn't have time to land and no other method of insertion was feasible. The soldier was harnessed to a rope with a quick release catch, and held onto a manual handbrake with one hand. They then jumped out of their transport while it was still in the air... usually from several tens of feet in the air or more. Athrun had no idea how high the Archangel was, but he guessed more than a hundred feet... a long way to fall... a lot of momentum to kill with the handbrake. Stopping the fall was a matter of timing... start braking too soon and you'd be left hanging in midair... brake too late and you'd break your legs or die. But if you did it just right... like Alkire and the members of TEMPEST did... well, there were few things that looked smoother and more intimidating than five elite soldiers levitating down from the sky, giving accurate cover fire and spreading out like oil on water when they touched ground, almost in unison.

Cray swore and threw himself down and behind a fallen and rotting tree... if he hadn't had superhuman reflexes he probably would have been shot to pieces by those damn commandos. Where the fuck had they come from anyway? They just dropped out of the sky and started shooting at him, just at a moment of triumph. It wasn't fair. It pissed him off something fierce. He wouldn't let it continue. He felt raw adrenaline and gamma gliphetim pumping into his veins... just the sort of edge he'd need. The world seemed to become filled with clear glue... even sounds were slowing down. He reloaded both pistols as he rose, dropping the half full clips where he could find them later. Three of the commandos were approaching his position... one guy with brownish hair carrying a rifle, a big guy with a heavy machine gun, and a slim guy with black hair and a combat shotgun. The other two... the girl and the guy with the sword... were covering the four Coordinators as they hustled into the hanger. Cray was disappointed... Frost hadn't managed to bag even one... he had lost some respect for the little psycho. But then there was no time for thought... only for firing. He aimed at the big guy and the guy with the shotgun, blasting away with alternating guns... right left right left, never firing with the same gun at the same person twice in a row. He saw one bullet strike the big guy right in the gut, folding him up like a paper doll and dropping him to the ground. There was no blood, which meant the enemy was armored, of course. Which was fine... armor would only go so far. Vlad ducked and dived and rolled and came up blasting with his shotgun, which was loaded with alternating buckshot and deer slugs. Alkire meanwhile rolled the other way, firing controlled bursts from his assault rifle. Cray strafed towards Alkire, firing at james and vlad until he was out of bullets before reloading with his final two clips. James had recovered from the initial hit and the squad support weapon barked loudly, sending high velocity rifle rounds snapping through the air, tossing divots of mud and dirt more than a yard into the air as they impacted the ground around the almost blurry fast Cray.

Dropping into a kneeling spin, firing behind his back as he spun, Cray closed to within arms reach of Alkire. Dodging the thrust of the assault rifle butt with a flick of his head, Cray fired at point blank range, grazing Alkire once on each shoulder as the man fell backwards to get away. A machine gun bullet nicked Cray's leg, the impact of which he incorporated into a second spin, arms spread wide, jumping through the air like some olympic ice skater, spraying bullets like a sprinkler did water. Three bullets whined off the trees near James, four more almost eviscerated Vlad, throwing him back with his armor in tatters. Five bullets penetarted the thin walls of the hanger, one of which speared through the thin glass of the cockpit canopy, glancing off an instrument panel in a shower of sparks not four inches from Cagalli's head. Then both guns clicked empty and he discarded them in mid spin. Before he landed he was already flipping the 30mm cannon into his right hand and the reloaded elephant gun into his left. He dropped into a crouch upon landing and shoulder rolled behind a clump of trees... no since in getting shot now that he was starting to run out of ammo...he had one shell for the cannon left and four bullets for the elephant gun... then he was down to grenades and fists. He heard crashing and yelling from the brush behind him and he turned with a hopeful look on his face... maybe there was a straggler he could pick off. No such luck of course... Cray blanched and dived to the side as Frost barreled past him, a rictus grimace of hate on his bloody face and his scythe rotating above his head like a propeller blade.

Alkire saw what was bearing down on him and he got to his feet faster than he ever had in his life. "Bail! Bail BAIL **BAIL!** Bug the fuck out! Advance rearwards all full!" Alkire put words to action and sprinted for the hanger as if chsed by the very hounds of hell... or something worse... were on his tail. James fired a few desultory rounds of covering fire... totally ineffective as it turned out, because Frost either ignored them, letting them slide fractionally wide, or wove around them like they were slow motion spitballs. Vlad didn't even bother... after fighting this foe on more than one battlefield, he had come to the conclusion that gunfire was all but useless except at extremely long or extremely close range... with long range preferred, since if you let Frost get within arm's reach you were not long for the world. He popped a smoke grenade over his shoulder and made like a gazelle, his chest burning like fire as his gasping lungs stretched the four bullet bruises he sported on his chest under the armor. An enormous retort sounded from behind them and a massive shell parted the smoke cloud with a sound like a keg rolling across a wooden floor. The 30mm shell screamed past Vlad at shoulder height, less than an arms reach away, before penetrating the hanger wall and exploding, spraying the interior of the hanger with fire and metal fragments. Luckily the only damage sustained was to the cockpit canopy, which was cracked and dented so much it was almost impossible to see through the clouded glass. Alkire dropped two more smoke grenades, as did James. Victor raced out of the jet and gave covering fire with his pistols as they ducked past him into the hanger and onto the straining jet... which was loaded significantly past its usual maximum capacity. Victor hucked a pair of satchel charges on impact fuses out into the jungle and then hit a comm relay switch on the radio on his belt. The satchel charges each took out more than a fifty square foot section of jungle, felling trees and igniting foliage in twin firestorms that threw the BCPU's back like chaff in a hurricane. Cray had just recovered and was aiming the elephant gun at Victor's retreating back when the purpose of the comm signal became clear. The two underside Iegelstellung 75mm gatling CIWS systems of the Archangel opened fire on the sections of forest cleared by Victors blasts, raining hundreds of high explosive shells down from above in steady streams of blazing fire. Explosions gouted up in plumes of smoke and debris, until a cloud of grit and dust covered the jungle for more than a mile around. A rattling, straining and coughing VTOL jet limped out of the cloud of smoke and more than half crashed in one of the landing bays of the Archangel. Damage control crews and medical teams swarmed the aircraft the moment it stopped sliding.

Back on the bridge, things were getting tight. Very tight. The Archangel was a very well armed ship... far more heavily armed and armored than any other ship in the Alliance fleet to date. But it still wasn't designed to penetrate and assail a well constructed enemy base entirely on its own, without support from either other ships or its complement of fighters and mobile suits. Yet, since the pilots for those mobile suits and fighters were currently in no shape for flying, according to the initial reports from the medical crews down in the hanger, that was what they were being forced to do. So far they had been able to hold their own... mainly because the enemy response had been poorly organized and somewhat understrength. Tanks and missile trucks had rushed right in without waiting for gun emplacement or mobile suit support and so the vehicles had been decimated by the Archangel's CIWS systems and Valiants. Meanwhile the massive Gottfried high energy beam cannons had been systematically annihilating the missile and cannon emplacements rising out of the mountainsides all around them... the flaring green beams never required more than one shot per emplacement, in several cases a single shot took out several emplacements, often on entirely opposite sides of a mountain, by shooting straight through a ridgeline. When the mobile suit and jet fighter forces had finally mustered their formations enough to approach the Archangel, they were blasted away in disarray by volleys of Helldarts and the much bigger Sledgehammer missiles. All in all, Murrue was not impressed with the Blue Cosmos commander, whoever they were. She was starting to wonder if there even was a central command authority... the enemy forces were running around like chickens with their heads cut off... it shouldn't be nearly this easy to just waltz into a major base, like this one looked to be.

It's defenders aside, the base itself was impressive as hell. It looked to be built inside not just one but several mountains, all connected both by surface roads and underground tunnels of great size. One entire mountain seemed devoted to factory complexes, judging from the ground penetrating radar scans, another was living facilities and life support type systems, and a third was entirely for storage of raw materials. The living facility went down deeper than the sensors could detect, which was more than 300 meters below the Earth's surface... an astounding feat of construction, especially for a base that didn't officially exist for either the Alliance or ZAFT. There must have been at least five or six thousand people living and working there just in the factory, storage and living areas... nevermind the defending military forces. An amazing coup for Blue Cosmos to construct such a facility... truly, this must be the beating heart of the organization, if there ever was one. Murrue was contemplating what she wanted to do next during a brief lull in the fighting... they had recovered the people they came to rescue, all alive, if not well. But to just leave this Blue Cosmos base relatively intact when they for once actually had a chance to strike directly at the people who perpetuated the war... it didn't feel right. But neither could they stay long... calls for help had doubtlessly been issued to the Earth Alliance and the rest of Blue Cosmos... once reinforced and provided with leadership, the enemy would easily overwhelm the single warship. Murrue's musing was interrupted when the door to the bridge slid open and a long missed figure stepped forward.

On the ground below, Cray dragged Frost's limp form from underneath a charred tree trunk... one of hundreds that lay about like partially burned sticks tossed about by some petulant child... all that remained of the once lush jungle around the hidden hanger, due to the pounding delivered by the Archangel's CIWS guns. Cray himself was mostly unharmed... just a few scraps and the gunshot bruises and wounds he'd already sported. He looked at the Archangel bitterly as it hovered in the near distance, still engaged with the defenders of JIHAD. They would have had them... he would have had them... if that damn ship hadn't shown up out of nowhere and ruined everything. It was so totally unfair... the rage and hate he felt was burning him up so much inside it was hard to think straight. he was actually crying with anger, he was so pissed off. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would see that white ship burning in flames at his feet... preferrably with its crew still trapped inside. He turned to look at Frost, who was unconscious from the blasts... unlike Cray, he hadn't sought cover, he'd just stood there and screamed until explosions through him into some trees and buried him alive under them afterwards. Cray shuddered... he'd actually been able to hear that scream and it had chilled his bones until he expected to see ice forming on his skin... once again he was forcefully reminded that while he may have been a multiple murderer who enjoyed the work, there were still much worse people than him alive and walking around. Though that might be a problem for Frost for a while... his foot wasn't much more than bare bones and muscle tatters, and the rest of him was little better. Cray had seen much more attractive corpses... he'd even created a few... and that was after he worked them over with a shotgun and flamethrower. But Frost still breathed... Cray had felt him breathing when he dragged him out from under the trees. A sudden thought occured to him... he could change that little fact, if he felt like it. Yeah... he could pay Frost back for all the torment and terrorizing he'd inflicted on Cray and Amy over the years. All it would take was a few twists and he could break the little bastards neck. A few more after that and he could mount the head on the Merciless. He smiled... it was a great idea. He turned towards where he'd left Frost, homicidal grin filling up his face. The grin faded like a ghost in sunlight when he found Frost no longer lying comatose, but standing, eyes burning as he stared at the Archangel. Cray casually uncrooked his hands and let his arms drop to his sides... if whistling was one of his skills, he'd have been doing the casual whistle for all he was worth.

"I'm tougher than I look." Frost said, not looking at him. He sounded lucid again... like maybe he'd gone so far off the deep end he'd dropped from the sky into shallower waters again. "But I'm in no condition to travel back to the base... you'll have to carry me."

"What makes you think I'll..." Cray started to protest.

"Fear. I may not be able to move very far... but I can move far enough to tear your legs off and use them for crutches if I have to. And beyond that... because frankly you don't have any other friends but me. I know... we aren't friends... but we're the closest either of us is ever going to get. There are no two men more similar than you and me. And we're late for an even bigger battle than this one... I don't want to miss the mass death from the nuking of Australia and Carpentaria, do you?" Frost retorted, cutting him off.

"Similar might be going a bit far. But you have something of a point. Fine... I'll carry you... just you remember that I did." Cray replied. _I can always drop him off a cliff or something on the way back too._ He smiled. "What are friends for, eh?"

"And don't try to kill me either... you can bet that I'm faster than you and if you try to toss me off a cliff or something, you're coming down with me." Frost warned, hobbling over. Cray's face soured and he lifted the smaller BCPU much like a mother might carry a babe. Frost's fingers locked onto his upper arms so tightly Cray could feel them clenching around the bone... he wouldn't be throwing Frost anywhere unless he threw his own arms with him. "And step on it, will you? I want to get to the Fury before that damned ship drops half a mountain on it." Cray hadn't thought of that possibility yet. Worry creased his mind... what would he do if the Merciless got buried and ruined by falling derbis... it was powerful as all hell, but a mountainside was quite a trump card? He had to get back and get it out of its hanger before something happened. He turned and raced with all his might for the base entrance... his long limbs covering ground faster than a loping deer.

Inside JIHAD Ashino had managed to secure some basic first aid from an abandoned medical lab. Nothing more than a few bandages and some painkiller pills that barely affected his enhanced system, but it helped enough. He observed the guards and administrators running around in chaotic confusion... the Doc could not be contacted and both Asmodeus and Cervantes were out of touch because of enforced communication silence preceeding the Australian Maneuver, which was due to commence in a few hours. Nobody was clear on who was in charge of what and nobody could decide what needed to be done. Evacuation? Retaliation? Self Destruct? Call for help? No work was being done because of the hysteria...most of the people at the base were civilians, who never thought they'd actually be attacked by an enemy warship, much less something as powerful as the Archangel, which had proved more than a match for the defense forces so far. Ashino shook his head in distaste... he knew exactly what needed to be done, but as a BCPU he had no authority and would only be ignored. One of those little ironies he never expected to encounter but now had. He remained calm and headed down into the depths of the facility, away from the hustle and bustle of the disintegrating chain of command. The Doc was dead, he was sure of it, but no one had yet bothered to check sub level six personally, for what reason he could not fathom. Maybe they were afraid of the reputation the place had... monstrous things had happened down there in the past... guards and technicians would go down and come back up in body bags... or multiple smaller bags.

He'd reached sub level 3 before he encountered anyone... he chanced past an open door and spotted a group of four white lab coated BCPU instructors huddled around a communications terminal, trying without much success to contact the administrators above to find out what was going on. Explosions had been heard and felt, and the power had been flickering for nearly fifteen minutes now. Were they under attack, ridiculous as that sounded, since no one even knew where they were? Ashino had politely gotten their attention and informed them that he had orders from the Doc... something which made them almost visibly relieved. Ashino coughed up a few gouts of blood... he was going to have to lie and his conditioning was already making him pay the price. But it was for a good cause... this was the only way they were going to survive if the Archangel did what he was thinking it would do... it wouldn't take Lacus and her comrades long to convince the commander of the ship what an evil place JIHAD was. The instructors ignored his coughing... they probably assumed he had internal injuries of some sort, but he was only a BCPU and not even one they were responsible for, so they didn't even look twice. It rankled that his plot would save men and women like them too, but such was life... bittersweet to the end. Ashino told them the Doc wanted them to gather up all the BCPU's currently in training and all the BCPU canidates in the holding cells and take them down into sub level six in one big group. He would brief them there on what role they were to play in the defense of the base against the ships attacking them. If the Doc was not down there when they got there, they were to wait there for him to arrive... he would come by his secure personal elevator from his personal quarters if he wasn't already waiting for them. This was something that needed to be done both hastily and perfectly, Ashino told them... they could not afford to leave even one child behind, no matter how sickly or weak from surgery. He told them he would also be down there to help coordinate them later, but Ashino told them not to wait for him, he had a few other tasks he had to take care of first. The instructors nodded and thanked him, rushing off to unwittingly bring all the BCPU's and prospective BCPU's to the safest place for them in the entire mountain... the Doc's lab. If the Archangel destroyed the upper facility, they'd still be alive down here, able to survive on emergency supplies until Ashino could arrange for a rescue. ashino smirked slightly and headed for the hanger bays, where the Bane was berthed. Hopefully he would get there before the Archangel opened fire.

"Lacus! Oh my god, your leg!" Murrue cried, half getting up from her captain's chair. _Or for that matter, the rest of you. I've never seen her look so worn before... never mind all the bllod and stuff on her... it's obviously not hers. But she looks terrible. Damn Blue Cosmos... what sort of hell did they put such an undeserving girl through?_

"It's just a graze... it actually doesn't hurt all that much." Lacus replied with a soft smile. _Well actually it hurts like fire burning me, but that isn't what is currently important._ "I cannot tell you how glad i am to see you, Captain... I never dared imagine you would be so close by when I called for help. A good thing you were too... we wouldn't have lasted much longer by ourselves.

"Is everyone okay?" Waltfeld asked. "I mean, you escaped by yourselves, which none of us expected, no offense."

Lacus turned to look at him, the most serious expression she could muster on her face. "No... everyone is not all right. All of us have been tortured in one fashion or another, some worse than others. Kira has burns from a soldering iron on his hands... Ysak has bruises from being beaten by Cray Thresher during several fights and is exhausted to the point of unconsciousness besides. Cagalli was beaten by guards during our interrogation, as was Dearka during his, much worse than Cagalli was. Athrun fought Markov Ashino, another BCPU and defeated him, though he broke his hand and suffered greatly in the process. Worst of all, Chanel did not leave the mountain... she was executed on Asmodeus Sark's order, by the hand of Cray Thresher. So no... everyone is most definitely not okay."

"I had no idea..." Waltfeld whispered in replied, his fingers digging into his one palm hard enough to leave small cuts, while his remaining eye narrowed with fury. Murrue sat slowly back into her chair... her face white... she hadn't know Chanel very well, but the very idea of a teenage girl being executed in cold blood while being held a helpless captive cut her soul. Her lip quivered with pent up rage.

"What monsters they are... Blue Cosmos." Murrue whispered.

"You really have no idea... we met and had another interrogation with the leader of the project that this base was built for. I never learned his name... everyone called him the Doc. He is a Coordinator who is working for Blue Cosmos for a reason I cannot fathom... he is insane is all I can think of. He certainly possesses no morals or ethics I was able to discern... he brutally manipulates all the people around him, erasing the memories of children, augmenting them with mechanical and biological enhancements and conditioning them into brutal killing machines for the Alliance military." Lacus spilled forth, the words flowing like water from a burst dam, which is what her mind felt like... she was releasing all the negative emotions she had been holding back until that point.

"What sort of place is this?" Waltfeld hissed, trying to get his mind around what Lacus was saying.

"This is a den of true evil... where people without morals take children kidnapped off the streets and orphanage wards of the Earth and cut them open to add surgical enhancements no human was meant to have in order to turn them into unstoppable super soldiers. It's a place where those children are subjected to a training regime so brutal and dehumanizing that the ones who survive have no memories of their lives before they came here and... worst of all... those who survive do not even view themselves as humans any more, but instead as machines, mere interface cards for the Mobile Suits built for them. I heard such tales of horror that I don't know if I can repeat them... I saw such things... things I never want to remember but can't forget." Tears started beading in Lacus's eyes. "I experienced acts among the worst humans can inflict upon each other... observed people with such terrible psychoses that they cannot be allowed to further spread their taint to new people."

"What are you trying to say, Ms. Lacus?" Waltfeld asked gently.

"You all know my stance on war and killing." Lacus replied. She paused several breaths. "Despite that, for once, I think that there are just some things that cannot be allowed to exist. If you encounter a rabid animal you try to capture it and get it medical attention. But if someone is going around and injecting animals with rabies and chemical warfare agents... and indeed, goes so far as to inject themselves to prevent capture... well, then there really is only one choice. They have to be put down before they can do any more damage. For the good of all. This is a situation like that. Please believe me, I don't want to kill all those people in there... all those children who never had the chance to know any better... but we don't have the resourcs to save them right now... and if we don't do something now, later they will just relocate and begin anew and we'll never be rid of them. So please... destroy this base. Try to leave the living quarters intact if you can... but destroy this base at all costs. It's existence cannot be tolerated by moral people."

Murrue looked at Waltfeld, who thought briefly and nodded once. If Lacus Clyne felt a place had to be destroyed, then it should probably be damn well destroyed, in his opinion. Anything that could affect the merciful Lacus Clyne like this was too terrible for him to want to consider. Murrue nodded as well... in truth she had been going to follow the suggestion anyway... her blood was boiling and she knew she'd barely scratched the surface of the stories she'd no doubt hear from her young friends later. "Activate the Lohengrin. Coordinate with the Gottfried's and Valiants. Load all missile tubes with Wombat anti-ship missiles. I want those mountains gutted and I want it done properly."

"Activate the Lohengrin. Coordinate with Gottfried's and Valiants. Loading all tubes with Wombats, aye." Waltfeld replied. "Lohengrin one, target the factory mountain along with Gottfried one and two. Lohengrin two, target the facility mountain, along with Valiants and missile tubes. Second volley targets will be Lohengrin's one and two on the factory and facility mountains, and everything else on the storage mountain. Should a third volley be necessary, I will assign targets based on how the first two volleys went."

"Lohengrins activated and powering up. Three zero seconds to full power."

"Gottfried's and Valiant's targeted and locked on. Missile tubes will be loaded in four zero seconds."

"Helldart launchers at 45 percent ammunition, Iegelstellungs at 76 percent ammunition. The enemy has pulled back and is trying to regroup at the base of the factory mountain."

"Turning two degree's starboard to put the enemy in the line of fire. Maintaining minus three degree axial tilt. Engines idling at full power, all auxilary power connected to weapon's systems."

"Communications are clear... the enemy is trying to jam us but we have defeated them. Enemy communications are 35 percent jammed. No hits on the long range radar... we're still the only ship in the area."

"One zero seconds remaining until all weapons ready, captain. All targets locked in and the program is standing by to alternate to the second volley targets. Zero five seconds to weapon readiness."

"Very well, CIC." Murrue replied. She turned to Lacus. "Would you like to?"

"I'll take responsibility, yes, thank you." Lacus replied.

"That's not quite what I meant... I mean, would you like to purge a little of the ill feelings you have for this place? I'm captain here... this is my responsibility." Murrue whispered.

"I have no ill feelings for this place... just the people who run it and who built it... I'm destroying it in order to demonstrate to them that their cruelty and maliciousness will no longer be tolerated." Lacus replied, smiling ever so slightly again.

"Weapons are powered and ready, captain. Waiting on the order."

"Very well, CIC." Murrue acknowledged. "It's for you to do then."

"Very well, Captain Ramius." Lacus replied. She took a breath. "All weapons, open fire."


	62. Australian Maneuver

Reddish blue beams of indescribable power... focused anti-matter particles... vomited forth from the Lohengrin cannons in explosions of light and sound. Less than a second later the Archangel vibrated and rocked backwards as dozens of anti ship missiles, two high caliber railgun shots and four beams of intense heat energy joined the Lohengrin blasts in flying towards the mountains housing JIHAD. The Lohengrin impact first, a full twenty milliseconds ahead of the Gottfried beams and almost a half second ahead of the Valiant shots... two seconds ahead of the missiles. The shot from Lohengrin one washed through the huddle of enemy vehicles and mobile suits like a blast of superheated steam through a butter sculpture, destroying nintey percent of the gathered forces in an eyeblink. Not diminished in the slightest, the beam continued on to strike the mountain dead center. Positron particles reacted with their electron counterparts, ripping matter apart in a reaction of such intense power as to render nuclear forces laughable. The Lohengrin beam fully penetrated the forty feet of rock to the primary factory chamber and then continued on to burn through several cranes, two complete mobile suits and four incomplete Strike Crusaders before finally impacting the far wall and dissipating in a tremendous explosion of superheated air and secondary blasts from ignited fuel, severed electrical connections and damaged munitions. Before the blast wave had even struck the workers on the floor of the factory chamber, the gottfried beams had followed the path of the Lohengrin into the factory areas. Diverging slightly, each of the four beams went a slightly different path, burning through mobile suits, workstations, machinery and worst of all, power generators, which went up like bombs. With a thunderous explosion that blew leaves off tress more than a mile away, and a flash of light that drowned out the sun for a few seconds, the entire middile level of the factory mountain disintegrated in fire and rubble and smoke. Fire spread rapidly throughout the maintain, touching off fuel supplies and ammunition dump chambers in a continuing string of blasts that each made the mountain quiver visibly. Structural integrity strained beyond all tolerances, the top floors of the factory mountain broke up and crashed down into the middle levels, collapsing the floor and driving the whole multi-thousand ton mass of wreckage into the lower factory and storage levels, utterly ruining the Strike Crusader production line and demolishing all mobile suit hangers in the mountain.

Seconds before the upper levels collapsed, three mobile suits launched from their respective hangers. The Merciless had to help the Fury along... Zacharis was barely hanging onto consciousness, his wounds having caught up to him as the adrenaline rush of combat had faded. The Bane noticed their difficulties and dropped back to help. The three Alliance Gundams limped away at barely above stalling speed, quite unaware that the Archangel's defense computers had locked on to them and were tracking them and plotting their prospective course, even as the computer operators watched, awestruck as the factory mountain pretty much just folded in on itself in a massive cloud of fire and dust. Lohengrin two struck higher than its counterpart, penetrating the thinner rock near the top of the Facility mountain and utterly devasting the life support and hydroponic systems housed there. The Valiant's and Wombats arrived more on target, tearing away hundred ton chunks of mountain side with each strike. To those inside the facility it was like being trapped in a tin can that was being shaken by a giant, while simultaneously being beaten against an unyielding surface. The pressure waves burst eardrums and shattered teeth throughout the mountain, in some cases even cracking skulls and breaking bones of unlucky people who happened to be lying down or touching some structural support that transmitted the kinetic energy better than the air around it. Down on sub level six, the lights went out just as the instructors and their BCPU's were entering the Doc's private lab. Unable to see anything in the cave like darkness, the instructors of course did not see the Doc's ravaged corpse lying in the middle of the room.

"Redesignate second volley. Both Lohengrin target the Facility mountain. All other targets remain the same." Waltfeld commanded. "How soon until we can fire again?"

"Lohengrin charging, sir. Six zero seconds until fully charged. Gottfried charge time is two five seconds. Valiant's ready to fire, missile tubes forty percent reloaded... seven zero seconds to one hundred percent loaded." a CIC crewmember replied smartly.

"Captain... ship's sensors picked up three mobile suit signatures leaving the Factory mountain just before it collapsed. Heat signatures match those of the three new Earth Alliance Gundams. They headed west and slightly north about thirty seconds ago, at slow speed. In fact, they're still barely on the scope... from the look of things, I think one or two are damaged and have to be helped along. Plotting their course... computers project that they are headed towards the Oceania Union... towards the huge Alliance buildup that the Kusanagi is observing."

"Have there been any communications, either into or out of the base?" Waltfeld asked.

"None we have been able to detect, sir. Ninety five percent probability that no communications have either been sent or received... thats as sure as we can get in a battlefield situation."

"Are they going for help or for some other reason?" Waltfeld muttured to himself, trying to decide what sort of call to make.

"The Doc mentioned that the pilots of those machines... Zacharis Frost, Cray Thresher and Markov Ashino... were due to participate in some large scale battle due to start in the next few hours. I don't think they're fleeing for help... they're actually going as reinforcements to the fleets already in place." Lacus cut into his musings. "Also, I believe they are going slow because of the damage to the pilots, not the machines... Frost and Ashino are both seriously injured and Cray has received wounds as well... I'm not surprised that they're taking it slow... they should be in a hospital, not mobile suits." Lacus considered for a moment. "Actually, I wouldn't really mind if Cray and Frost were in a morgue... Ashino should be in a hospital though."

"More of the unquenchable spirit for forgivness of Lacus Clyne?" Waltfeld remarked. "I'll never understand your ability to forgive people... though I'll always admire it too."

"Ashino is different from the other BCPU's. I have no doubt he still considers himself our enemy... and that he would attack and try to kill us if we confronted him with force. But I think I'm starting to crack through the wall of hatred that was built up around his personality... unlike Frost or Cray, I don't believe him a lost cause... he can still be brought back to the side of peace. Of course, the opportunity to bring him back won't be easy to acquire... but I have hope." Lacus replied.

"Captain, all weapons loaded and charged. Awaiting the command to fire the second volley."

Waltfeld looked at Lacus, who nodded once. "Fire second volley!"

The combined blasts of Lohengrin's one and two eviscerated the top and middle sections of the Facility mountain, boring through rock and steel and living spaces like a drill through a soft apple. Thousands of fanatical blue Cosmos scientists, technicians, soldiers and administrators were vaporized so quickly they couldn't even scream for help. Groaning in terrible structural agony, the twisted remnants of the top eight floors of the JIHAD Facility slowly crumpled down into itself, burying everything from sub level 3 on down under hundreds of feet of rock and steel and debris. Down on sub level 6, emergency power had finally come on, but then the sounds of the upper levels being destroyed and collapsing downward came rumbling down the elevator shafts... the instructors started to panic, especially when the mutliated corpse of the Doc was discovered. Their charges picked up on the mood like sharks scenting bloody water. All hell finally broke loose when the emergency power flickered and died. If there had been anyone but killers to hear them, the screams might have caused insanity in a listener, so terrible were they.

The Storage mountain was a much tougher nut to crack than the other two... it was basically just a hollowed out room of epic proportions, containing inert metal and other supplies that did not readily lend themselves towards combustion or explosion. Still, any material will burn or melt if heated to sufficient temperatures, and the high intensity beam energy from the Gottfrieds easily exceeded the combustion temperatures of all the materials in the storage complex. Raw steel and titanium burst into flames as the metal melted holes in the floor... bricks of magnesium flared up in bright purple white flames so bright they permanently blinded anyone unfortunate enough to look at them without protection. Heat from the burning metal melted the plastics and polymers stacked up, awaiting reconstruction into the controls and circuitry that went into mobile suits. Rivers of molten circuit boards and liquid plastic flowed throughout the subdivisions of the complex, igniting new stacks of material as they went. When the missiles arrived the explosions tossed shrapnel and magma around like confetti, starting hundreds of secondary fires. The Storage mountain did not explode or collapse in a spectacular fashion like the other two...rather it just sort of filled up with smoke and burned merrily for hours and hours, until it would eventually start sagging in on itself like an overweight man who has finally eaten too much. All except for one area... the specially reinforced storage blocks where the completed but disassembled Judgment Gundam was being stored in preparation for transport to its final assembly point in Panama... these survived unharmed and intact, except for minor scorching and heat distortion of the security doors leading to them. But, considering that they were located at the bottom of the mountain, and given that fluids always flow downhill, the storage spaces ended up being submerged under dozens of feet of red hot but slowly hardening molten metal, plastic and stone.

On the Archangel, Waltfeld turned to report that the facility was comprehensively destroyed. He was just opening his mouth when he noticed how Lacus's eyelids were flickering and how she seemed to be swaying. Without any hesitation, Waltfeld moved to her side and not a moment too soon, because the extremely exhausted and overwrought Lacus Clyne had finally reached her physical and emotional limit, now that she could rest assured that the source of the evil she had been forced to observe and endure had been destroyed. She didn't so much as faint as slowly lose consciousness, but in such a way that she lost control of her motor functions first. She was still wide awake and smiling up at him in thanks when he caught her, it was only a few seconds later that her brain finally allowed itself some rest and she closed her eyes. Waltfeld wasted no time in calling for someone to take her to the infirmary... there were actually so many volunteers that he had to shout them down and choose one... every last crewmember on the bridge had jumped up and volunteered at the same time. When Lacus was safely off the bridge and on her way down to the medical sections of the ship, Waltfeld turned back to Murrue. "The target has been destroyed, captain."

"Thank you, commander. Good work. That's for everyone." Murrue looked over at the sensor operator. "Are we still tracking those three enemy Gundams?"

"They aren't on the scope any more, ma'am, but we have their course plotted out. As long as they haven't unexpectedly increased their speed by a factor of two point three, we should be able to ctach up with them in less than thirty minutes."

"No..." Murrue thought for a second and made a decision. "Helm... bring us around to follow their projected course. Go at full speed until we have them at the edge of our sesnor range and then hold that distance. We're going to follow them home and see where they lead us."

"And if they lead us into the middle of an Alliance fleet?" Waltfeld asked in a voice only she could hear.

"That's what I'm expecting them to do. In fact, they should take us right to the fleet in overall command of this entire giant operation... no sane commander would let those three be deployed by a subordinate... no... knowing the Alliance leadership, they're going to be at the beck and call of the officer in charge of the entire attack... whoever that is. And if we can distract or disable that person... well, there won't be much of a battle, will there? Also, the Alliance commander is probably the only person who can authorize the use of WMD's... if we can stop that from happening, we have to try."

"So you have thought it out...I was just making sure." Waltfeld replied, still quiet. "Permission to secure battlestations, captain?" he asked, in his normal voice.

"Permission granted, commander. All hands stand down to alert status orange. Commander, you have the bridge until I return." Murrue ordered.

"I have the bridge, aye." Weltfeld acknowledged. "Give them my condolences, if you would... I'll be down to speak with them and listen to them after you're done." he continued, once again so quietly only she could hear. Murrue nodded and quickly left the bridge, heading for the medical section.

Asmodeus looked impatiently at his watch for perhaps the eighth time. The BCPU's were late, damn them to hell. Nearly fifteen minutes late. He looked out at the CIC room of the brand new Alliance super carrier, the AFNS (Atlantic Federation Navy Ship) Victorious, the first nuclear powered aircraft carrier to enter service since the N-jammers were dropped. It was the first of a new class of carriers, designed not to carry jets or other aircraft, but exclusively for mobile suits. The fourteen hundred foot long ship towered more than fifteen stories above sea level, and went down six stories below the water. Instead of the old runways and catapults, the Victorious featured electromagnetic launching tubes like those found on ZAFT submarine carriers. The Victorious maintained and supported an entire regiment of fifty four mobile suits, half of which were the old Strike Daggers and the other half being the new Strike Crusaders. It practically screamed "Command Ship" at the world, being surrounded by six lesser carriers and all their escorts, for a total combined fleet strength of seven carriers, eighteen destroyers, ten cruisers and twelve attack submarines, carrying over 200 mobile suits and nearly 500 fighter-bomber jets. Four hundred miles to their west were grouped the Euarasian Federation 3rd and 5th fleets, along with the South American 2nd fleet, a force of three carriers, eight destroyers, two cruisers and five attack submarines. The Eurasian and South American forces were based around a cluster of small islands that were little more than a few square kilometers of bare rock each, but were serving as mustering and refueling locations for more than five hundred mobile suits, in addition to the fifty mobile suits and two hundred jets on the carriers. Three hundred miles to the east was the Atlantic Federation 7th fleet... the only AF fleet detached from the command group... and the Orb Protectorate 1st, 2nd and 3rd fleets. The eastern wing of the attack formation boasted two Atlantic Federation carriers, four destroyers, one heavy cruiser and four attack submarines, with a combine total of forty mobile suits and one hundred ten jets. The Orb forces consisted of one mobile suit carrier per fleet, along with three Aegis ships to guard each carrier. Combined, the Orb forces boasted seventy two M4 Astray Guardian class mobile suits... easily the most advanced mass production model in the EA arsenal. Twenty miles to the north of the main command fleet lurked three refitted and recommissioned Atlantic Federation SSBNs (Submarine Service, Ballistic Missile, Nucleaer Powered). Each of these six hundred foot submarines mounted thirty missile tubes, each with a strategic intercontinental ballistic missile housed inside. Each missile contained four 750 kiloton thermonuclear warheads. Finally, two hundred miles to the north of the missile subs lurked one hundred and three ships of the AF merchant marine service... each housing more than five hundred soldiers and a platoon of heavy armor or mobile artillery.

Technicians were plotting the projected positons of the ZAFT defensive forces and making preliminary estimates of the sort of forces the enemy had lying tensed up in wait for the hammer blow. Long range observation units had reliably confirmed the presence of five Nazca class Fast Destroyer's in low orbit around the perimeter of the base, as well as eight Vozgulov class Submarine Carriers arrayed in a double V formation just outside of the Carpentaria defense line. Enemy mobile suit forces were estimated to stand at roughly four hundred units... considerably less than the EA forces, but even the most die hard Alliance commander had to admit that the newest ZAFT models put even the M4's to shame. The Oceania Union had comitted it's entire defense fleet to the aid of it's PLANT allies... two aircraft carriers, twelve destroyers, two cruisers and five attack submarines, with a total of one hundred forty jets and eighty attack helicopters. Oceania union ground forces were also reported as being dug in on the Carpentaria beachline... an estimated fifteen thousand infantry soldiers and three regiments of armor and sited artillery emplacements had been observed. ZAFT had spent the time since they had learned of the attack fortifying the perimeter of Carpentaria as much as possible, digging trenches, laying mines, and emplacing a staggering variety of defense emplacements, ranging from automatic anti-air and anti-personnel gatling gun bunkers to fully manned high energy beam cannon turrets comparable to those found on space warships. Rounding out the defense forces were two Lessups Class land battleships parked so as to be able to serve as reinforcements to any potential weak spot in the lines. Asmodeus shook his head... the scale of the battle threatened to overwhelm even him. He threw a look over at the knot of generals and admirals who were technically in charge of the battle... if he, Asmodeus Sark, was overwhelmed, the dithering fools around the map table had to be so swamped it was fortunate they weren't pissing themselves.

A communication light blinked on his control chair. Asmodeus answered it immediately... only one person would be able to call into the CIC of a warship like this. "Hello, Mr. Zunnichi. This is Asmdoeus speaking, how may I help you?"

"Drop the formality, Asmodeus... can't you get even a little bit excited?" Cervantes admonished his friend from the AF central command bunker, buried far underground in the Rocky Mountains of the midwest AF. "We're literally standing at the cusp of destiny here... this battle will forever decide the future of the entire world... and you sound just like it's some sort of wargame simulation."

"I'll try to be more enthusiastic, sir. It'll be easier once the battle has been won. Already things aren't quite going as planned... none of the BCPU's have yet arrived, and all communications to the JIHAD facility have gone unanswered." Asmodeus reported. Cervantes grunted noncommitally.

"Communications difficulties are to be expected, with the damned N-Jammers still out there. It's hard enough to maintain even the most secure military lines... normal communications are unlikely to work for a number of reasons, considering your distance from JIHAD. And who knows... maybe the BCPU's were delayed for some technical reason... machinery never works right when it's supposed to. What I'm getting at here, Asmodeus, is that you shouldn't worry so much. The BCPU's would be useful for the Australian Maneuver, but by no means does the fight hinge on their presence. We cannot afford to delay any longer, or else the Twelfth Lunar Fleet will be engaged and destroyed before its time. Commence the attack, Asmodeus... you can give the order and it will be obeyed." Cervantes said grandly.

"What of the Izumo class Orb space warship that is currently holding position about fifty miles to the southwest of my position? They haven't initiated any threatening actions, but they haven't responded to communication attemps either. They won't even talk to the Orb forces." Asmodeus asked.

Cervantes gave an exasperated sigh. "You worry so much it frustrates me, Asmodeus. One single warship, and a rogue unsupported one at that will make absolutely no difference to the outcome of either battle. Destroy them if you want, I don't care. Just initiate the Australian Maneuver before I give the order myself... I don't want to embarass you like that."

"Understood sir. I'm going to hang up now, so I can direct the battle." Asmodeus replied tiredly, hanging up as he did so. Maybe not the best of moves, but it was all the protest he could muster. He looked over at the flag officers, who were all trying to look like they weren't watching him expectantly. "Commence the Australian Maneuver." Asmodeus ordered. He didn't shout or gesticulate or grandstand. He just rubbed his forehead in irritation and gave the order that might cause the deaths of millions of people.

Twenty miles to the north, each of the missile subs recieved a signal in turn. Each rose in sequence to about forty feet below the surface and opened the launch tube covers on the missile tubes. With loud punches of pressurized air, each submarine launched it's deadly payload in groups of five missiles at a time, until there was so much pressurized air in the water around them the very ocean seemed to be boiling. With resounding flat, wet slaps, the first fifteen missiles broke the surface of the water from below, jumping twenty feet into the air like startled dolphins before their rocket motors ignited and thrust them into the sky at speeds of greater than a mile per second. Almost instantly, the long range threat monitors of the five orbiting warships lit up, and a slave signal caused the Carpentaria base CIC to alert as well. Alarm sirens sounded all over Carpentaria as troops rushed to their battle positions, mobile suits were manned and final checked and all weapons were primed, loaded and aimed anxiously upwards. The first wave of thirty missiles rocketed over the Alliance command fleet at a height of fifteen miles, just starting to begin their downward trajectory towards detonation points all over Carpentaria and mainland Australia. Each missile would detonate at approximately five miles above its target point, throwing out all four warheads, which would descend to final target points on their own trajectories. All in all, more than three hundred sixty nuclear warheads were in flight, each more than twice as powerful as the missiles that destroyed Boaz.

On the bridge of the Kusanagi, Kisaka's jaw tightened so audibly a crewmember thought his coffee cup had spontaneously cracked. "Power up the engines and all weapon systems. I want firing solutions on as many of those missiles as you can give me." He swore inwardly... the Orb mobile suit pilots that were supposed to fly the cargo of M4 Guardians in the hanger were still trapped in Orb, the islands had been locked down by martial law and no one was allowed to leave until the Australian Maneuver was completed. And they hadn't heard from the Archangel in almost three quarters of a day... Cagalli's fate was still in question, which did nothing good for his temperment. "Any word from the Archangel?"

"Nothing sir." the Coomunications officer replied, wincing as he did so.

"Grahhh!" Kisaka growled audibly. "Very well. Move us into the path of those missiles... to let even one deliver its payload would be a disgrace to the name of humanity."

"Sir, we have tenative firing solutions. Sixty percent probability of intercept."

"Can't you do any better than that?"

"We could sir, if we had the time. If we don't fire in the next fifteen seconds the missiles will be past us... sixty percent is the best we can do."

"Understood." Kisaka took a deep breath. "All weapons... fire at will. Destroy those missiles." Instants later the air filled with green and red energy beams as the Lohengrin and Gottfried cannons fired, followed by a haze of missile contrails as the anti-ship missiles launched. One gottfried missed completely, the other took out a grouping of three missiles. Unlike the shoddily designed and hurriedly produced missiles used against Boaz, the missiles fired against Carpentaria did not explode in nuclear detonations when destroyed... the warheads required an amazingly precise detonation ciruit in order to generate a nuclear explosion... interception fire would just blow them apart like any missile. Both Lohengrin swept wide swatches of sky, each intercepting eight missiles, blowing them into clouds of ionized vapor. There were a tense few seconds as the twelve anti ship missiles from the Kusanagi matched trajectories with their targets and kicked in their maximum speed to catch up in time to intercept. Nine of the missiles struck their targets, destroying ten missiles, with the extra being accounted for by being disable by flying through falling debris. Only one missile from the first wave made it past the Kusanagi. It was an astounding feat. But all the missiles of wave two passed the Kusanagi while it was reloading. And the interception rate was much worse against wave three... only half the thirty missiles in the last wave were destroyed. A total of forty six missiles were still inbound towards Australia and Carpentaria. The crew of the Kusanagi could do nothing but bite their lips and pray for a miracle.

Interception missiles fired from the eight submarine carriers in the forward ZAFT position accounted for twelve more nukes. The Nazca class destroyers started firing and deployed their GuAize mobile suits to assist. One mobile suit was unlucky enough to stop a missile with its torso, destroying them both. Combined, the thirty mobile suits and five warships downed twenty five missiles, leaving only nine missiles remaining. Carpentaria and Australian ground defenses each accounted for another missile. But the seven that remained reached their target points and burst open like deadly flowers. Six of the still living missiles burst over mainland Australia, with the remaining missile dumping it's payload just past the main section of the Carpentaria base. Twenty four warheads rained down onto Australia, targeting major cities and military installations, as well as large sections of farmland. Sydney ceased to exist in an eyeblink as three warheads dropped into its center, suburbs and outskirts. The ancient opera house, which had stood for hundreds of years, turned to ash and metal splinters and blew away in the radioactive winds. Four other cities were wiped entirely off the map by multiple nukes, as were all three of Australia's primary military bases. The scattering of warheads left razed hundreds of square miles of grazing and farmland, with radioactive fallout contaminating thousands more square miles of territory. One nuke, targeted specifically by Cervantes out of spite, landed directly on Ayer's Rock and split the monolithic block of stone into a dozen half melted fragments that would remain too radioactive to approach for hundreds of years. Casualties ran into the tens of millions, as civilians caught in traffic logjams trying to evacuate major cities were incinerated by the nukes. More than forty percent of the entire military strength of the Oceania Union ceased to exist in the space between breaths.

One of the warheads headed for Carpentaria burst at an altitude of three miles... too far away to damage the ground, but at a perfect height to emit a massive EMP pulse wave that fried the circuits of two Nazca classes even through their shielding. The pressure wave sent half the low orbit mobile suits tumbling out the sky, their pilots overwhelmed by the G forces of their spinning machines, helpless to do anything but fall to their deaths. One Nazca class came down in the ocean, sending up a huge cloud of steam and water, before its plasma cores ruptured and the ship exploded into pieces, none bigger than a deck of playing cards. The other ship came down on a section of trench and bunker lines, devastating the area like a meteor impact, even though the ship did not explode, killing hundreds of Oceania Union soldiers billeted there. The remaining three warheads came down almost simultaneously, in a triangular pattern. One exploded in the sea, throwing up a wall of water that swamped two Oceania Union destroyers, while the blast wave capsized one of the cruisers after blowing it's superstructure into twisted wreckage. Dozens of men were picked up by wind and thrown from the flight decks of the carriers... few survived long in the predator infested waters. Both nukes that hit land landed on opposite ends of the Carpentaria 3rd defense line, utterly annihilating all troops and vehicles at those locations and for a mile in either direction. Casualties were initially estimated in the hundreds, but this number quickly grew into the thousands. The third defense line collapsed inwards from both directions before the battle even really began... a serious weakness that could be exploited if the first and second lines were to fall. One Lesseps caught the blast on full face... the only part that survived were the scale movement treads, which were fused into glass. The Carpentaria defense was rocked back hard... but not cracked. Efforts to reorganize and reinforce the defense lines were underway almost at once. Reserve troops came forward to the first and second lines and ZAFT prepared for its counterblow. A small mass driver, used soley for putting inert cargo into low orbit for pickup by waiting ships, was utilized on low power to toss three Gungnir EMP bombs into the ocean, with one bomb per major fleet concentration of the AE. Each bomb sank quickly and detonated about five hundred feet down. The EMP wave was amplified into an underwater electircal storm of terrifying proportions... though it was contained underwater by surface reflection. It didn't affect the surface fleet in the least. However, every submarine for fifty miles around each detonation point suddenly found all its operating circuits completely wiped out... none of its weapons systems, propulsion systems or life support systems worked. Conducted electricity caused massive casualties amongst the crews and the dead boats slowly sank into the ocean, eventually being crushed as they descended too deep.

This was the cue for dozens of ZAFT ZnO submarine mobile suits to deploy from the Carpentaria harbor and the eight submarine carriers. The submarine carriers moved forward as well... now that the subsurface ocean was their own playground, they could destroy the EA fleets at their will. On board the Victorious, Asmodeus narrowed his eyes and acknowledged the skill of the enemy commanders... he had no way of counteracting this underwater attack... it was a stroke of genius, considering the EA had no worthwile submarine mobile suits... if he didn't do something before the enemy covered the few hundred miles to his fleets, the EA effort was doomed. But he still had a few hours yet. Asmodeus leaned back and tapped his fingers on his chair thoughtfully. "Deploy the first and second assault waves. I want two thirds of our forces in the air and on the way before the hour is up. All bombardment tasked ships, move forward at once, take anti submarine warfare precautions as you see fit. I want the third wave to launch twenty minutes after the first two have left. After the third wave has launched, I want the troop ships to make a dash for the coast, utilizing all possible speed. By the time you arrive the enemy defenses should be in tatters, your arrival will break them." Asmodeus paused. "Any sign of the BCPU's?"

"Actually, yes sir. I have the Bane, the Merciless and the Fury approaching at slow speed from the southeast. Their ETA is two hours and thirty minutes from now. I'm sorry sir, but it appears the pilots of the Fury and Bane have sustained serious injuries and will not be able to enter the battle. The Merciless is fully combat capable though."

"Sustained serious injuries?" Asmodeus repeated, incredulous. "How could they have sustained serious injuries? They were at JIHAD..." Asmodeus's voice trailed off. His quick mind didn't take long to connect two hurt BCPU's and the lack of communication with JIHAD. Something had gone terribly wrong at the Blue Cosmos facility. He'd left in an extreme hurry after exacting his revenge upon Ysak, but he'd been confident in the ability of the Doc to recapture him before he caused any damage. He may have despised the Doc for what and who he was, but he could not deny the man's competence and intelligence. And one Coordinator, no matter how pissed off, could not have destroyd the entire facility, especially with Frost there. No... something else must have happened. A mass breakout might have occured... they must have found some way to call for help. The Archangel was conspicious in its absence from it's usual post near the Kusanagi... the two ships were known allies and known supporters of those damn Coordinator kids. "Put the Merciless on the line." Asmodeus ordered. A static filled comm channel hissed into existence as Asmodeus picked up the privacy phone. "What the hell happened, Cray?"

"The damned Archangel happened, Asmodeus!" Cray spat back. "When I get the chance I'm going to turn that blasted ship into so much molten slag..."

"Concentrate, Cray. I need to know what happened, in detail. Why have we lost communications with JIHAD. Why are you three late? Why are Ashino and Frost seriously injured?" Asmodeus practically shouted.

"Yeah, yeah." Cray replied sullenly. "After you booked out of the waste pit room, Ysak kicked me off the catwalk and into the pit. He was fired up and all... never seen a Coordinator fight like that. By the time I climbed back up, he and that other girl... whatshername... had freed their friends from the jail cells. Ashino, Frost and I went in under specific orders from the Doc to recapture them. They put up a fight until Ashino held Lacus Clyne hostage, then they surrendered. Bastards. We took them to see the Doc, because he wanted to conduct an experiment with them. The experiment went balls up... the goal was to piss them off into some SEED mode thing... and it worked. But then they slipped their restraints and were all over us like shit on a monkey. They made another break for it, and Ashino and I went in pursuit, with Frost coming after us. It's his birthday, you know? Apparently the Doc gave him some really nice present."

"Concentrate!" Asmodeus warned, rubbing his head in annoyance... he didn't care about birthdays.

"Yeah, yeah, calm down. Anyway, Ashino's been acting a little weird ever since he met Lacus Clyne, Cagalli Yula Attha and the other girls. I don't know why, but he diverted me to the base armory, in a wild goose chase for the fugitives. In retrospect it seems obvious that the prisoners would head for an exit first, rather than an armory they never knew existed. But at the time I was really fired up and was acting on instinct, not brain power. I nearly got shot at the armory until Frost showed up and helped me kill the guards. We equipped ourselves to take down the fugitives and set out together to hunt them down. By the time we caught up with Ashino, they were already gone into the jungles outside. Ashino had fought with Athrun Zala in some form of hand to hand duel, and somehow ended up losing, even if he did wound the damn Coordinator seriously. Ashino pointed us in the direction the enemy had gone and Frost and I went after them. They were headed for one of the emergency evacuation aircraft put in hiding for use by the senior administrators. We caught up to them after about a mile and Frost split up to flank them. I engaged their rear guard... Ysak and his remaining girlfriend. They're pretty good... I'll have to give them that. She ended up shooting me four times, though only once did she actually wound me, and he nearly got me with a frag grenade. I routed them and forced them to retreat into the jungle and then pursued them. I could hear the gunfire and explosions from the other enemies engaging Frost as I ran. By the time I caught up with them a second time they had already reached the hanger and were warming up the aircraft inside. I pinned down Ysak's girlfriend and Athrun Zala outside the hanger and I would have had them if the Archangel hadn't arrived overhead and deployed those five freaking commandos you know."

"Jones? But he and his comrades are confined in Levansworth Military Prison!" Asmodeus choked.

"I may be crazy, but I don't hallucinate. I know who I saw. If I'd been fractionally slower they would have shot me full of holes. I nearly managed to get three of them... but then they dropped a bunch of smoke grenades and made a run for it. I was about to finish off one of them... the guy with the sword... when I heard someone coming through the jungle behind me. I thought it was a straggler... an easy target. I was wrong. It was Frost. He was out of his head. I know he's usually out of his head... but I mean he was really fucking gone this time. He is wounded to hell and back... second and third degree burns all over, more wounds and gun shot holes than I could count, a right foot almost completely denuded of flesh... stripped nearly naked by some powerful blast... a broken nose squashed almost flat. He's gonna need some help... I think he's passed out, judging froim how the Fury is handling. Anyway, he came charging right past me whirling that scythe of his... but he never managed to catch up to them. They tossed out a couple of satchel charges that knocked us both flying. Then the Archangel above opened fire with its lower CIWS turrets and turned the jungle into a firestorm. By the time I'd recovered and dragged Frost out from under the trees he'd been buried under, the Coordinators and their friends had escaped, and the Archangel was advancing on the rest of the base."

"What were the base defenders doing? Sitting around with their thumbs up their asses? There's more than a company of mobile suits there, not to mention two regiments of the finest soldiers in the Blue Cosmos organization."

"I can't answer that one. For some reason there didn't seem to be any central command in operation during the battle. No one seemed able to reach Doc for some reason. And Frost and I may have accidentally killed the Commander of the guard forces who was inspecting the armory when we burst in. He pulled a gun on us in a room full of weapons... what was he expecting to happen? In any case, the Archangel managed to defeat the guard forces... that ship is really heavily armed, you know? I barely managed to carry Frost back to the hanger areas and get us both into our mobile suits and lifted off before the Archangel opened fire on the factory complex and then on the JIHAD facility and the storage complex. I'm sorry to report that all have been destroyed... the Doc is probably dead, killed when the mountain collapsed. The BCPU project is gone. The Judgment might still be intact, but it's buried under half a mountain. Frost and Ashino are in no condition to fight a battle. But rest assured... I'm raring to go, sir. The Merciless has a full ammo load and I'm looking for something to take out my anger on, if you catch my drift."

Asmodeus sat back, digesting this terrible information. If this was true... and Cray would not lie to him about something like this... then Blue Cosmos had just been dealt a staggering blow. JIHAD was where all of the major technologies created and utilized by Blue Cosmos were designed and developed. It had housed the specialized Gundam production lines, as well as the original Crusader production line. The facility had contained hundreds of projects, not least of which was the BCPU training program. And there were billions of dollars worth of material stored in the storage complex... now all slag and dust. He needed to inform Mr. Zunnichi... damage control had to be deployed as soon as possible, on several fronts. The actual site had to be excavated and salavged for whatever could be found... the leading members of Blue Cosmos would need to be reassured... the faceless multitudes of the organization would need an explanation and someone to blame. "Understood, Cray. Rendevous with the Victorious as soon as you can... we'll have medical care waiting for Ashino and Frost. I'll need you to be ready to head to the front as soon as you arrive. Oh... have you seen any sign of the Archangel since you left JIHAD?"

"Nope. Don't know where they went. Probably retreated... those Coordinators may have escaped, but none of them got off lightly, if you know what I mean. I'd be very surprised if any of them were capable of piloting anything but a bed right at the moment and probably for the next couple weeks, for some of them."

"Okay. Thank you for the report. Remember, be ready for instant deployment as soon as you get here... not nearly as many nukes as we predicted ended up landing... the enemy line is going to be stronger than planned. You'll need to do what you can to change that." Asmodeus hung up and rubbed his eyes. He turned to face the admirals and generals. He forced a confident smile onto his face. "A few minor setbacks, but everything is still going according to plan. The Merciless will be entering battle as soon as it arrives... the Fury and Bane will be staying on the Victorious in reserve as they are refitted to correct some mechanical problems." It wasn't technically a lie... BCPU's were classified as mechanical components, not pilots. Asmodeus sat back again and once again picked up the secure phone, dialling Cervantes's contact number. This was not going to be a fun phone call at all.

Murrue arrived down on the medical deck just as the last bits of medical care were being administered. Ysak and Dearka both sported tightly wrapped bandages over their chests, signifying cracked or broken ribs, and bruise salves were spread liberally over their faces and limbs, which were bound with bandages here and there. Kira's burn blisters had been lanced and drained and his hands bound with surgical tape and gauze to keep out infection. He looked like he was wearing mittens. Athrun's broken hand was in a brace as was his neck and he sported more bandages than both Ysak and Dearka combined... full body casts were no longer used, but he was in just about the next best thing. Lacus had her leg wound cleaned out and rebandaged and was having the almost innumerable scrapes and bruises being attended to as Murrue entered. Cagalli also wore a neck brace and bruise salve was applied liberally across her face, which was swelling up quite a bit. Miriallia wasn't specifically injured badly in any one place, but she too sported bandages and salvings over much of her body. Katie was actually among the least hurt, physically... she had shrugged off bruise salves and all but a few bandages. She'd broken the finger of a medic who'd persisted in trying to treat her and after that she'd been left strictly alone. When Murrue arrived, the five members of TEMPEST were already there, clustered around Katie. The absence of another teenage girl from the scene was so obvious it was almost like a physcial blow. Again... Murrue had not known Chanel well... but she and Katie had been inseperable... where there was one there was the other. But not now. Not ever again.

Katie looked up as Murrue entered the room, which surprised Murrue, since she had been almost totally sure no one had heard her enter... none of the TEMPEST members had reated and their senses were among the keenest she'd ever encountered. "Captain Ramius... it's good that you're here. I wouldn't want to repeat what I have to say and you deserve to hear it first hand."

"You don't have to say anything, dear." Raine said quietly, placing her hand protectively on Katie's shoulder. Katie looked at her and smiled in appreciation.

"Yes... I do, big sis. For one... everyone else but Captain Ramius already knows a little. You guys need to hear this as well... its important."

"Is this about your Newtype powers?" Athrun asked in a near whisper from his cot next to Cagalli's. Alkire's eyes went wide.

"You told them about that?" he asked, incredulous. "I thought we agreed it was a closed topic?"

"I didn't tell them about it because I meant to. The Doc tricked me into telling them about it. He said he'd recorded Chanel's echo, from when she died. He then threatened to do terrible things to Ysak and my friends if I didn't tell him if I was a Newtype and tell him who else was a Newtype as well."

"What sort of terrible things?" Vlad asked, his eyes burning.

"He ordered Ashino to tear out our eyes and force feed them to the girls." Dearka replied. Vlad looked around the room.

"I see everyone still has two eyes."

"I couldn't let them do that! The very idea made me sick to my stomach!" Katie retorted. "Besides... it was just a little information."

"Yes..." Vlad trailed off.

"I identified myself as an Active Newtype. Lacus is also an Active Newtype. Kira is a Latent. Ysak was changed into a Latent by Chanel's echo when she died." Katie continued.

"I'm still not entirely sure what you mean when you say that." Lacus said. "The Doc said Newtypes have abilties beyond the human norm... abilities that most of humanity do not even believe exists. But I've never used any special abilities."

"Yes... I believe you have. You just didn't realize you were doing it." Katie countered. "I have no idea what your powers are, Lacus... I just know that when I look at you with mine, you startle me... you glow so brightly you drown out all the other minds in this room. I don't know if I'm sensing your power or something else... maybe your willpower or conviction. Whatever it is... it's amazing."

"I think I have an idea of what Lacus's powers might be." Kira put in quietly. Lacus turned and looked at him expectantly. "Sing a song for me, Lacus." Kira asked. Lacus narrowed her eyes but nodded. It didn't take long... upon the very first syllable of the very first word, Katie gasped.

"That's incredible." Katie whispered. Lacus ignored her, pouring her heart and soul and emotions into the song. She brought in her love for Kira... her concern for her friends... her feelings on Ashino... everything that had been bothering her or filling up her mind for the past few days. She closed her eyes and concentrated entirely on her own voice and the flow of the song. When she at last opened her eyes at the end of the song, she found everyone was staring at her in total silence.

"My God." Alkire said, his hands trembling. He sat down on the deck suddenly, almost falling backwards, as if his legs wouldn't support him any more. James was wiping tears out of his eyes, as was Victor. Vlad was staring off into the distance, his eyes unseeing as his chest shook with some terrible memory. Raine was dry eyed and still as a statue, but her eyes did not stray from Lacus.

"Okay... I don't quite know how to describe it... but I think I have some handle on what your power is, Lacus." Katie said into the silence. "You can communicate the essence of your thoughts and feelings to people when you sing. Music affects people on a subconcious level... its a studied fact that music can alter your mood and even affect your bodily rythyms. But when you sing with that incredible voice of yours, you do more than just alter the timing of a heartbeat or stroke the sleep centers of the brain. You actually transmit your emotions you are feeling at the time directly into the minds of other people, specifically those who can hear you sing. Those people get an up close and personal view of your emotions... and there are very few people who can really muster the courage to face emotions so bare faced like that. In some cases this might have a calming affect on people... in others it might cause them to question their beliefs or believe more strongly in yours. I'm sure that by altering what emotions you incorporated into the song, you could have a bunch of different effects on people. I think you should avoid singing dirges at all costs."

"I think you're on to something." Athrun whispered. "Remember the White Symphony opera house, Lacus?"

"Yes... where I confronted you about the truth of your beliefs and you returned Mr. Pink to me."

"You were singing... and I found memories... memories of all the times I had come into conflict with or seen Kira... flashing through my mind. I couldn't figure out why I was remembering such things at the time... I thought Kira was dead at my own hands then. But your song brought back all the emotions and feelings that I associated with Kira... when you told me he was alive, I didn't want to believe you... but those memories wouldn't let me believe he was dead either... they were too fresh... too potently remembered." Athrun elaborated.

I was thinking about how sad it was that you and Kira had considered each other enemies. I wanted you to be friends again... I knew that once I could convince you he was alive again you could reconcile if you would only talk with him." Lacus said quietly. "I didn't know it was you in the building... but I had a strong suspicion. I wasn't singing that song for you... but I wasn't singing it for anyone else, either."

"And what about me? I never used to feel such a connection with people... but ever since... ever since... Chanel... died... after she pulled me into that trance state... I've been hearing Katie's voice in my head. I've recently started to get a loose handle on how Kira is feeling when he's close by. And that song just now... I mean... I never was a Lacus Clyne fan, but I liked some of her songs... but none of them twisted open my heart like that just did. What's happened to me?" Ysak asked pleadingly.

"Again... I may be the most experienced Newtype present, but I really know almost nothing. Nobody knows much... the amount that is unknown would be the Solar System... the known amount would be the Earth's Moon. I have no idea how Chanel was able to manipulate your mind into a state that was conducive to trance, much less how she pulled your untrained mind into our trance. I don't think I could do that... I wouldn't even know where to begin. But you were in her head whe she died... you were still in trance, inside her dream, feeling her thoughts. You were a part of her... and when you went back to your own mind, you must have carried part of her with you. And so now you're a Latent. That's my guess... good as any, probably." Katie replied. "I know it's confusing... I remember what it was like when I first realized what sort of powers I had. Chanel and I had been living at the research facility for three years by that point... Eileen had sourced us when we were five, detected our powers even though they wouldn't manifest for several more years. She was the strongest Newtype at the facility, in her own way. It was too bad she was so old... Eileen was eighty four when she realized her powers and a heart condition was due to kill her before five more years had passed. It was worse than hell at that facility. They didn't hurt us... didn't condition us like they did to the BCPU's. But we had no personal freedoms. We were the most precious of beings... they didn't let us have ny personal possessions that might distract us from their studies... our clothes were just hospital scrubs, carefully designed so that you couldn't even choke yourself on them, much less use them to hang yourself. Chanel and I went naked much of the time as a way of protest, as did some of the others. The researchers never minded... clothed or unclothed, we were just research subjects to them, not people. We lived our lives sharing a two thousand square foot series of rooms with four other people, allowed every so often to interact with occupants of the three other cubes, as we called them. Everything was painted neutral grey... there was no color, no outside media of any sort to distract us from the contemplation of our own minds. Out loud talking was discouraged... they wanted us to speak with our minds. The more we exercised our powers and the more we showed them new things, the happier they were with us. We'd get rewards sometimes... small treats of cookies or other food not the standard grey oatmeal. It was living without life. Chanel and I lived there untill we were thirteen."

"That's when we raided the facility, in our search for Vlad after the debacle with Kisaka's fiancee." Alkire took up the story. "By that point, there were only Chanel, Katie and two or three more Newtypes left. The rest had either gone totally insane, usually catatonic... or had died from other causes... Eileen's heart... old age for others... but most commonly from overstretching their powers during an experiment." We didn't find any clues there related to our pursuit of Vlad. But we couldn't just leave those people trapped in their prison. And it was a prison, even if it didn't look like one. They had no personal freedom... they had been brutalized, though not physically. Two of the other newtypes had forgotten how to speak... they could only mew at us as they tried to Beepcall us. The other older Newtype tried to kill us when he saw us... I actually saw a table lifted from the ground and hurled more than ten feet through the air without him touching it before his mind collapsed and he dropped the table. Apparently the sight of our non-grey clothing had convinced him that were were monsters or something. Katie and Chanel did not try to hurt us, but at first they were totally nonresponsive. It wasn't until we took them outside and them glimpsed sunlight for the first time in eight years that they reacted... with tears. It seared my heart to think of the monstrosity of the scientists who could so confine other human beings. Unfortunately, I was to later learn that scientists like that are not nearly as rare as they should be."

"We took Katie and Chanel in... Alkire and I pretty much just adopted them... helped them deal with adjusting to the real world again. We set them up in our homes, brought them with us when we changed locations... they were around for almost our entire pursuit of Vlad. Ever so gradually they started coming out of their shells... it wasn't an easy process and it involved a lot of released pain and tears. They evidenced a strong desire and interest in our work, and not being able to think of a reason why not to, we taught them everything we could about being Special Forces soldiers. They grew up to be not quite so average teenage girls... but that's light years better than they would have been if they'd stayed in that facility. I'm proud of them for recovering as well as they have... I don't think I'm that mentally tough." Raine added.

"But now Chanel is dead. Killed by order of Asmodeus Sark, by the hand of Cray Thresher. Shot through the head in revenge for the slaying of Ray Sark." Victor said, his voice murderously low.

"Asmodeus's revenge was the most brutal thing I have ever experienced." Katie said. "He took Chanel and I hostage and brought Ysak into the room after hiding us from view and gagging us. Asmodeus held a gun on Ysak until he'd said what he wanted to say. He then turned the gun on me, while Cray turned a pistol with a single shot in it on Chanel. Asmodeus revealed us to Ysak. And told him to choose who lived and who died. Asmodeus would kill either Chanel or myself in revenge for his son's death... but it was Ysak who had to choose which of us got the bullet. If he didn't choose in five minutes, Asmodeus would kill us both... and then offer his life to Ysak in repayment. It was strange... I couldn't hear any reluctance in Asmodeus's voice... he sounded perfectly willing to give up his own life as payment if Ysak couldn't choose. Of course, Asmodeus as a whole threw me off... I couldn't sense his mind and neither could Chanel."

"That bastard." Alkire commented. "You have to be twisted and warped to force someone to make that kind of choice."

"I couldn't decide. I love them both... I couldn't make that choice." Ysak said, his voice broken. "If any of you think it was bad, you have no idea. Who would you choose to die, Kira? Lacus or Cagalli? What would you have done?"

"I don't know." Kira replied. "I can only hope I never have to make a choice like that... I don't think there is a right answer for that question."

"The worst part was that Asmodeus believed it was me that killed his son, when Chanel actually shot him. But I couldn't say that, because then he would kill her. Of course, I didn't know then that he was planning to kill one of them anyway." Ysak muttured. "In the end the choice was made for me. Chanel dragged my mind into her trance dream and explained to me that in doing so she had burst major blood vessels in her brain... she was dying of internal bleeding as we spoke. It cut my heart in half, to have to sit there, helpless to stop her from dying, unable to even physically touch her, but still able to talk to her and see her. She ordered me to choose her. I... I..." Ysak trailed off. "There was no other choice." he whispered.

"Too often that is the case." Vlad said into the silence that followed. "I've made some very hard choices in my life... you may not believe it, but many were just like the one you made. A small part of you dies every time you must make such a choice. But calling it a choice is stupid... you had no choices... Chanel made the choice and you just fufilled it for her. I'd tell you not to feel guilty, but you won't listen. Just remember... the fault of the choice lies not with you... not even with Chanel. It lies with the person who forced the choice. In this case, Asmodeus. Blame also lies on the hands of the instrument... this Cray Thresher. Those are the people you should blame." Ysak turned away to face the wall... he didn't want to hear anything more about choices... especially his. And especially not from Vladimir.

The room went silent again and stayed silent for a long, long time... hours maybe, with people unable to think fo something to say just comforting each other with their mere presence. Finally the intercom light blinked on and a fuzz of static spread into the room from the speaker. "Captain? Murrue? This is Andrew. Is everything all right down there?"

"In some manners of speaking, yes." Murrue shook herself out of the near dream she'd been in and answered the intercomm. "What's the problem?"

"We're approaching the Alliance fleet... our long range sensors have picked up a large concentration of ships about forty minutes flight ahead. The three enemy Gundams are just rendevousing with the fleet. I think it's safe to say that if we've detected them, they've detected us."

"Understood. I'll be right up." Murrue looked around at the room. "You should all stay here... none of you are in any condition to be fighting any battles. We'll have to survive without you for once." Murrue took her cap from the wall peg and put it on. She nodded once more to acknowledge them all and their grief and then left. her mind was already focusing on battle strategies and countermoves... she'd need all her experience and battle cunning to bring the ship through this engagement without mobile suit support.

Author Note: All right, this time I actually want requests. I want to know which character you want to see more of. I also want to know what sort of genre you want to see more of. More mobile suit action? More gunfight action? More drama? More romance? If you have the time and inclination I'd also like to know which of my original mobile suits you like the best, and if you can, why. I know I haven't had much mobile suit combat lately... but a hell of a lot is coming in the next few chapters. Most of all, I'd like you to keep giving me great reviews... I do so enjoy reading them, especially the ones that include why you like my story, not just that you do. Thank you all in advance.


	63. Battle at Carpentaria

The nukes had arrived at midday, each blocking out the sun for a moment with their dust cloud as they exploded. But for all their power, the nukes had been things of brief instants... one moment peace, one moment utter devastation, and finally back to peace again. There was nothing the soldiers and mobile suits on the ground at Carpentaria could have done to stop the fall of the warheads after the missiles slipped past the defenses. And so the nukes didn't really wear at the nerves of the soldiers... why worry about something you couldn't control? Things had been quiet for a few hours... all the movement was taking place out at sea, with the submarine carriers and ZnO's closing in on their targets. But then the long range radar of the remaining Nazca's and Carpentaria base radar picked up incoming signals. Hundreds of incoming signals. Some were jet fighter-bombers. Some were individual mobile suits. Many more were mobile suit transport planes, each carrying three or more mobile suits. The enemy was coming on in two waves, seperated by about twenty minutes of time. Almost immediately after the incoming enemy forces were spotted, reports came back from the ZnO's and submarine carriers of engagements with surface elements of the EA fleets. The ZAFT submarine forces had the upper hand, but not everything was going their way... the enemy had a great number of destroyers and cruisers... ships which, among other things, specialized in anti-submarine warfare. With depth charges raining down from above like bizarre slow motion hail, and scores of torpedoes being launched at them, the ZAFT naval forces were tied up quite effectively. So effectively that two groups of enemy ships... one of three desroyers and a cruiser, another of three Aegis ships and two destroyers... managed to slip through the battle zone and continue steaming towards Carpentaria in the wake of the flying forces.

The first enemy forces to attack Carpentaria were the fighter-bomber jets, which were far faster than the mobile suits and mobile suit transports. ZAFT and Oceania Union jets swarmed up to intercept them, but were too heavily outnumbered. For every ZAFT aligned jet there were two or three EA jets. This had the inevitable consequence of heavy losses for the ZAFT forces, though the Earth Alliance also lost nearly thirty percent of their forces. Breaking through the CAP (Combat Air Patrol), the fighter-bombers began their attack runs, weaving through the anti-aircraft fire as best they were able. Dozens of DINNs and Guul mounted GINN's came up to meet them, their accurate firing downing jets in steady streams. Jets flashed by at supersonic speeds, with mobile suits trailing, firing machine cannons and beam rifles in all directions. So many missiles were fired that clouds of contrail smoke actually started to form in the skies over the base. Jet's dropped strings of cluster bombs on the troops in the trenches below... while not powerful enough to more than dent mobile suits they played havoc with the infantry troops and weapon emplacements wherever they landed, carpeting the ground in blankets of fire, smoke, and red hot metal ball bearings. Jet's faced off with mobile suits in a frenzy of a furball that the few survivng pilots would speak of in awe for the rest of their lives. The next Alliance forces to arrive were not mobile suits. No... they were a wing of forty four skygraspers. Originally designed to support the Strike Gundamn, these were designated Skygrasper-2's and instead of carrying striker packs for the strike, they were mounted with detachable weapon modules modelled on the primary weapon systems of the Calamity Gundam. In addition to the standard heavy machine guns, beam cannon turret and missile bays of a normal Skygrasper, each Skygrasper-2 mounted two 125mm high energy beam cannons overslung on its wings and a 325mm hyper impulse beam cannon underslung on its belly. When power for these weapons was exhausted, they could be ejected to grant the fighter improved maneuverability. Piloted by the most experienced fighter pilots the Alliance had to offer, the Skygrasper-2's came screaming into the battle zone in perfect formation, flying wingtip to wingtip in a two level wave, flying barely meters above the plane below them. As one person, all the pilots opened fire at once and held down the triggers for all they were worth.

Caught completely by surprise at the unexpectedly powerful firepower boasted by the jets, the ZAFT air forces wavered. Losses were heavy in the initial few seconds, before training and skill took over again. Unused to jets with enough firepower to destroy a mobile suit in a single shot, many pilots did not take nearly as much evasive maneuvers as they should have. As a result they died as the high intensity beam cannons and hyper impulse beams blew through their armor like it was soft cheese. The missiles and machine gun fire from the Skygraspers was little more than an annoyance compare to the Calamity modules, but when two or three missiles all struck the same target at the same time... well, mobile suits were nearly invulnerable to normal weapons. Emphasis on nearly. Missiles could still do the job... especially in groups. After their first pass the Skygrasper wing split into two groups...one turned around and headed back into the furball in pairs, while the other maintained cohesive sub wings of eleven jets each. One sub wing oriented itself on the remaining Oceania Union naval forces, while the other lined up for a strafing run against the ground forces of Carpentaria. This was when things started to turn the other way for the EA pilots. With the element of surprise gone, once again the inherently greater adaptability and maneuverability of the ZAFT mobile suits made itself known. Another factor in ZAFT's favor was the increased accuracy of its targeting systems, and the inherently more accurate nature of it's pilots... Coordinators were just better than Naturals when it came to aiming, in most cases. None of the jets that re-entered the furball lasted the fight. All were taken down by blasts from DINNs or GINNs they frequently did not even see... the downside to the Calamity modules was how they slowed the jet and limited the vision sphere of the pilot. Of the eleven jets that attacked the surface fleet, six were shot down by anti-air fire as they came in on their attack runs. The remaining jets accounted for one of the carriers and eight of the remaining ten destroyers. After that their power cells were running on empty and they were forced to jettision the Calamity modules and turn home. They would not participate in the battle again. Those Skygraspers that strafed land targets fared better than their fellows, initially. Most of their targets were either stationary gun explacements, infantry positions, or ground bound mobile suits like BuCue's and ZuOots, who were largely unable to turn fast enough to get more tha one or two shots off at the jets screaming by overhead.

The eleven jets accounted for eight BuCue's and two ZuOots in their first pass, as well as three gatling gun anti-air emplacements and a single high energy beam cannon turret. They only lost one jet, to a freak anti-air missile fired by some lucky ZAFT infantryman, which flew right down the throat of the 325mm hyper impulse cannon and blew the jet into fragments. The sub wing turned around for another pass, its pilots raging at the unlucky loss of one of their friends. Their luck was sharply curtailed this time around. This time, ill fortune chanced to bring them first across a position of Efreet mobile suits, idling in Mirage Colloid mode, who opened fire with their back mounted beam cannons at the unsuspecting jets flying right over head. Three skygraspers flamed out as beam blasts materialized out of thin air and punched up through the bottom of their planes with contemptuous ease. By the time the EA pilots realized what had happened they were past the Efreets... three jets lost with no chance to retaliate. Continuing on their attack run, the jets destroyed a few supply bunkers and got lucky once more, hitting an ammunition dump that went off with a blast so powerful it tossed GINN's flat on their backs from more than a hundred meters away. Their luck ran out as they pulled up from their attack run... right over three Grendels. The heavy assault mobile suits opened up with their arm, shoulder and torso weapons, filling the air with a blizzard of missiles, beam shots and machine cannon fire. Only two skygraspers came out of that firestorm... and one was badly damaged and would crash before reaching its mothership. Unable to do any more, both skygraspers jettisoned their Calamity modules and hit the afterburners for home.

There was no time for the ZAFT forces to regain their breath... just as the Skygraspers left the first mobile suits started falling from the sky. In some cases, due to the incredible firepower of the Nazca classes and their remaining Guaize's, the falling was quite literal, as the EA mobile suit fell like a blazing comet of machined parts. In far too many other cases though, the fall was the controlled descent of a mobile suit coming down for a neat landing, so it could begin the ground war. The vast majority of the first wave were Strike Daggers, with a few Strike Crusaders thrown in as command models. Some of the Strike Daggers did not fall at all... instead they utilized hastily designed flight wings and attached jet thrusters to propel themselves in rocketing trajectories towards the remaining Nazca classes and their mobile suit escorts. Another furball blossomed into being in low orbit, above the jets and mobile suits already fighting in the atmosphere. BuCues, GINN's and ZuOots rushed forward to meet the invaders, as emplaced artillery weapons lobbed tons of ordnance at the beacheads from their positions back in the base proper. Gatling gun bunkers filled with the tinkling sound of thousands of 20mm cartiridges bouncing into the spent ammo drains, to flood out onto the ground outside in a tide of smoking brass. High energy beam cannon turrets emitted hissing beams of super heat while missile turrets spewed scores of heat seeking and radar guided missiles into the air. To the EA mobile suits, it was like walking into a literal wall of firepower... there was nothing to be done but put your shield forward and grind slowly ahead, hoping some artillery shell wouldn't land on your head or some massive caliber beam blast wouldn't cut you in half. Even the ZAFT and Oceania Union infantry were making their presence known, utilizing shoulder mounted rocket and missile launchers as well as heavy machine guns to spit defiance at the invaders. Every now and again a mobile suit foot would come down on an anti-mobile suit mine, which would rip the leg off in a thunderous explosion that almost always sent the machine tumbling awkwardly to the ground, where it was inevitably either shot by a ZAFT machine or swarmed by infantry armed with demolition charges and grenades. The ZAFT infantry took no prisoners... those who would nuke civilians deserved no mercy.

The fighting stabilized at the first line of defense. ZAFT had sustained damage to its first, second and third defense lines during the nuking and especially during the Skygrasper attack. The Oceania Union navy was decimated and slowly retreating. One Lessups was down and gone. But they were holding the invaders at bay... superior technology and superior preparation at the very least counteracting superior numbers. For a while it looked like ZAFT might actually throw the invaders entirely off their toe holds. But then the second assualt wave arrived. There were no jets or Skygraspers in the second wave. Only mobile suits. But unlike the first wave, the second wave consisted almost entirely of Strike Crusaders, as well as M4 Guardians from Orb. The Strike Crusaders immediately landed and joined up with the remaining Strike Daggers from the first wave. They formed triads... a formation of two Strike Daggers and one Strike Crusader. Unable to rely on superior technology, Asmodeus had decided that his troops would have to fall back on older methods to equate evenly with ZAFT. The use of formations in combat was antiquated to say the least... but undeniably effective. The two Strike Daggers acted as mobile shields for the Crusader, warding off missiles and beams with their shields, keeping fast attack mobile suits like BuCue's at bay with their beam rifles and swords, while the Strike Crusader blasted away with its railgun, missiles and hyper impulse cannon at any targets of opportunity. Since there was currently a superfluity of Crusaders, the remaining Crusaders formed into double ranked lines, with at least ten mobile suits in each rank of the line. The front rank of Crusaders went down on one knee, shields braced to cover themselves and the legs of the mobile suits behind them. The second line stood tall, using their shields to cover their torso's and heads, and the heads of the mobile suits kneeling before them. With hyper impulse cannons peeking forward around the shields, they did not bother to aim specifically at targets. Rather they just fired in constant volleys, adjusting their fire up or down or left and right each time as their volley fire cleared lanes through the ZAFT forces. The front rank would fire first, then the second rank would fire while the first rank charged and then vice versa. There were barely two or three seconds between volley's... it was just like in the days of black powder muskets... the old british army method of waging war. As long as the line was not engaged in melee, it could not be broken, and the damage inflicted on approaching forces was incredible. With their shields overlapping, it was very difficult to get a killing shot in on the Crusaders and despite mighty efforts, no GINN or BuCue was able to get close enough to engage in melee.

ZAFT commander's ordered the Efreet and Grendel forward in an attempt to stem the tide. The effects were instantly noticable... since the Efreet could not be seen by normal sensors and only with difficulty by the naked eye, they managed to circle in on the lines of Crusader's with few casualties. Beam swords blazing and plasma flamethrowers spitting fiery death, they flanked the Crusaders and broke the lines like glass. The Grendels came loping into the confusion on their knuckles, the twin hyper impulse cannons on their backs repaying dozens of bloody deaths as they flashed red and blue in the sunlight. The Grendel pilots were enraged by the devastation their comrades had been forced to endure... they'd come forward over the ruins of many BuCues, GINNs and ZuOots. One Grendel pilot battered at the enemy with just his mobile suit's reinforced knuckles, gripping the enemy like a real gorilla would and twisting off limbs like they were sticks. His comrades took a more technological appraoch, rearing back up onto their mobile suit's legs and cutting loose with their arm, torso and shoulder weapons. It was a battle of assualt mobile suits as the Crusaders turned on the enemy they could see and rushed forward, anti-ship swords or hyper impulse cannons in hand. The battle was the most intent of the encounter so far... the heaviest and most powerful mobile suit models of both sides going toe to toe in a whirling melee of grinding metal, ultra energy blasts at point blank range and rending parts. Often a Crusader or Grendel would fire a weapon and shoot entirely through its target, hitting a friend or foe on the other side quite by accident. All throughout the fight the Efreet circled, securing in their invisibility, twin beam swords reaping mobile suits like farmers would corn. Every now and again a Crusader would get a lucky shot off... fired by accident into an empty space that wasn't currently empty. But by and large the Efreet suffered almost no casualties from the Crusaders.

The same could not be said of the unfortunate forces who went up against the Orb M4 Guardians. Developed at the same time as the Gundams that Kira and the others flew, the M4's incorporated several of the Gundam technologies into a more mass producable format. They also borrowed heavily from the old Aegis Gundam that Athrun flew during the last war, in that they could transform into mobile armor forms. Specificaly two different mobile armor forms... either a Jet form, complete with fold out wings for extended atmospheric and low orbital flight or a treaded Tank form well suited to war on land. The M4's were considerably better armed than the older M1 Astray's, with each mounting a dual 55mm machine cannon on its left arm under the shield, carrying a 57mm beam rifle in its right hand or a beam saber for melee in that same hand. Four 20mm CIWS cannons graced the head and a beam deflecting shield was attached to the left arm. In Jet mode the fold out wings each mounted four guided missiles, while the beam rifle and beam sword became inoperable. In Tank mode a back mounted 150mm high intensity beam cannon revealed itself, while the hand carried beam rifle and shield once again became inoperable. The shoulders of the mobile suit each mounted a bank of powerful spotlights, while the heads mounted both a Vari-camera array and a slave unit for LRR arrays, which allowed them to hook up to a parent unit like the Grand Buster carried and use it to target their own attacks. One third of the M4's immediately switched to Jet form and headed for low orbit and the Nazca class ships... as long as they remained over the battlefield ultimate victory could not be assured. The other forty eight M4's either stayed in mobile suit form or switched to Tank mode. They made a beachhead of their own, entirely seperate from the rest of the Alliance forces and moved in as a seperate unit. Keeping together and advancing by fire and movement, the M4's completely penetrated the first line of defense on the ground and immediately pitched into the second line. Efreet were diverted from the Crusader battles to slow the M4's down long enough for GINN's and BuCue's to arrive from less hard pressed sections of the first defense line.

Confident in their invisibility, the first unit of five Efreet to arrive on scene charged right in, not even bothering to fire their beam cannons. As one, twelve mobile suit form M4's and four tank form M4's turned to face them and cut them down with efficient and coordinated beam fire. As soon as the Efreet had closed to within five hundred meters, the vari-camera units had detected them and allowed the M4's to target them as easily as they would anything else. It wasn't until the third unit of Efreet was gunned down in this fashion that the ZAFT commanders finally started to realize that perhaps it was more than dumb luck. The Efreet were pulled back to fights where their invisibilty would do them good and Grendels and BuCue's were sent to disrupt the spearing advance. The remaining Lessups also deployed to the area, its massive cannons thundering volleys of high explosive shells as it advanced. One shell landed right next to a pair of mobile suit form M4's... the only intact part left was the feet, which smoked almost comically, like something from a cartoon. Railgun fire from a speeding trio of BuCue's bracketed a Tank M4 and blew off its front treads. Transformation systems damaged, the mobile suit was stuck helplessly immobile it tank form as the BuCue's rushed up and diced it with their head mounted beam sabers. It was immediately revenged by two comrades, also in Tank form, who shattered a BuCue with repeated shots from their twin 55mm machine cannons. More BuCues and a few command Lagowe's came grinding forward to join what rapidly became a giant tank battle, with eighty ton plus war machines hurtling around on protesting treads, blasting at each other with railguns, missiles and beam blasts. A unit of twelve mobile suit M4's continued to push forward, diving into the second line like defensive ends going for a sack. A Grendel reared up in front of them and tore one M4's head and upper torso apart with a single swipe from its beam claw. Eleven return beam blasts blew it into scrap, but the advance had been delayed a brief few moments. A reaction force of ten GINNS came charging up, swords waving and machine cannon blazing away like heroes from some old war movie. The M4's spread out and drew their beam sabers almost in unison. They did not wait to be attacked... they counter charged, shields front, deflecting cannon shells in puffs of smoke and metal dust. The two units collided like two parties of medieval knights getting down to business. Mobile suits barreled directly into one another, or else passed within arms reach of their respective targets, weapons swinging and spitting shells. A M4 pilot neatly clotheslined his opponent with his shield, knocking the GINN down onto its metal ass, but he was stabbed in the back before he could drive home the finishing blow. The fallen GINN started to recover its feet but was cloven to the waist by the beam sword of a different M4, who also hacked off the arm of the GINN that had killed his friend. The fight revolved around and around, a chopping, stabbing, brawling scrum that kicked up so much dust the Lessups was forced to stop firing for fear of hitting its own troops.

Up in low orbit, the Jet form M4's reinforced the faltering jet wing Strike Daggers, who had been getting their asses handed to them by the far superior if much less numerical Guaizes. Only two ZAFT mobile suits had been, downed and the Nazca classes still untouched, at the cost of more than sixty percent of the Strike Daggers. This uneven equation changed dramatically upon the arrival of the twenty four Orb mobile suits. Firing their missiles, they reverted back to mobile suit form to bring their beam rifles into play. The missiles were mostly shot down, but they served to distract the Guaizes long to let a single Orb pilot, a hotshot named Lain Debora, to transform his Jet form M4 directly to Tank form. Normally this would seem to be the choice of a madman, as the Tank form had no way of remaining airborn. But with all the forward momentum from the flight up to low orbit, Lain had a good ten seconds to transform, bring out the 150mm high intensity beam cannon and select his target. It was a trick worthy of a Coordinator Ace... a Jet suddenly appears before the Nazca class, its weapons no threat against the great warship. But then, almost faster than the eye can see, the Jet reconfigures into a Tank, an odd sight indeed at this altitude. A high caliber muzzle thrust forward from the back of the mobile suit-jet-tank. A high power green beam of heat energy vomits forth from the muzzle of the cannon and spears directly into the bridge of the Nazca class, eliminating the bridge crew and decimating the ship's vital systems. Not destroyed but certainly disabled, the Nazca class breaks out of orbit and begins to slowly drift downwards, inexorably called by gravity. Lain's Tank feels the same call and it slowly flips over and drops like a stone. He falls nearly six hundred meters in the time it takes him to reconfigure to mobile suit form, but he barely notices... he's whooping with a victory shout so loud he thinks the Coordinators can hear him without resorting to a comm line. Certainly more than a few of them seem slightly upset at him, judging by how one of the remaining Nazca classes and six Guaizes specifically target him for the remainder of the battle.

The destruction of another fifth of the low orbital ZAFT warship force does not go unnoticed, either on the ground in Carpentaria, or back home on the PLANTS. At Carpentaria, senior commanders grit their teeth and trade worried glances... casualties are already exceeding projections by significant amounts... if the fight continued at this level they were indeed in trouble. The same thoughts were occuring to the higher ranked commanders back in the PLANTS... without reinforcement or relief, Carpentaria would fall within days, if not hours. And if that happened they would have no remaining strongholds on Earth... in essence they would have irrecoverably lost the ground war, because they lacked the forces to invade again if the troops at Carpentaria were wiped out. The naval battle at least was progressing in their favor... one Submarine carrier and twelve ZnO's had been lost, but all EA ships that had engaged the submarine task force had been sunk, and the task force was continuing north to wreak havoc upon the main fleet elements of the EA. Orders immediately went out to forces stationed at ZAFT's space fleet headquarters... GINNs and Guaizes immediately began boarding Laurasia class frigates in preparation for an orbital drop reinforcement to Carpentaria. It was during the middle of these preparations that the EA twelfth lunar fleet was at last detected, some 500,000 kilometers above and to anti-earthward of the PLANTS. The fleet consisted of three Agamemnon class carriers, six 250 meter destroyers and twelve 130 meter frigates. ZAFT caommand responded with constrenation... how had such a fleet managed to approach to such a close distance unnoticed? The Alliance fleet would be in position to assault the PLANTS themselves in a matter of hours... they had already hooked around the far edge of the normal ZAFT defense line, which was oriented to protect against attacks from the direction of the Earth and Moon. Nazca class and Laurasia class warships were scrambled to intercept the enemy fleet, but it was going to be very close... too close for comfort. Depending on a multitude of factors... many uncontrollable... the ZAFT response fleet might or might not arrive in time to prevent an attack upon the home PLANTS. Admirals and other high ranking commanders shouted back and forth at each other, trying to figure out if they had any forces, any forces at all that might be able to delay the EA fleet long enough for backup to arrive and destroy them. Finally, after much frantic searching, the deployment orders for a single Laurasia class destroyer, the Carnot, were found. The Carnot had been deployed to roughly that area of space as part of a top secret mobile suit testing maneuver, involving the new line of mass production mobile suits produced by BoranderCorp. What only the highest of the high commanders were able to learn was that in addition to the mass production model tests, the newest ZAFT prototype Gundam, the Pulsar, was also being tested at that location.

Emergency signals immediately went out to the Carnot... orders to cease the tests and prepare for armed conflict. The Carnot must intercept and delay the Alliance fleet at all costs. That the new mobile suits were untested in real combat did not matter... they were all they had. Many a high commander chewed his or her lip and traded nervous glances with their subordinates as they waited for a reply. Finally, it came. "This is Ace-Commander Jeremiah Borander. I acknowledge the emergency order to cease tests and intercept the Alliance fleet approaching our section of space. You can rely on us to hold them as long as needed, sirs. Jeremiah, out."

Hundreds of thousands of kilometers into interplanetary space from the PLANTS, Jeremiah turned away from the communications terminal and noted the sour look on the face of his nephew Noah. Jeremiah had decided to bring his kid nephew along for the tests because no one knew the NIC operating system better than the kid. Hell, no one knew most of the Pulsar's systems like the kid did. Noah was also an expert on the OS for the new mass production models, the Elementals, which he had largely programmed himself. Many cast anxious eyes at a kid performing potentially life or death work like programming mobile suit OS's, but jeremiah brushed aside the concerns... he felt safer with Noah doing it than any of a hundred specialist technicians. "Don't worry, Noah... they won't get past us." Jeremiah assured his nephew.

Noah frowned again... his uncle had misinterpreted his displeasure for worry... for some reason other people just couldn't seem to get a handle on how he was really feeling, even though he thought it was perfectly obvious. After all, he never had any trouble reading and interpreting the emotions of others. Or even nudging them in the right direction when he had to. Briefly, Noah exerted himself and caressed his uncle's mind, easing some of the worry he felt for Noah and helping him forget all about Noah's facial expression of a moment ago. It was easier with Jeremiah than it was with other people... Noah had been nudging his uncle's mind for so long it was practically like slipping on a glove... it barely required thought, much less effort. Of course the poor man had no idea his emotions were being manipulated... none of them did. Not his mother, certainly not his father and definitely not his heroic uncle. Nor any member of the rest of his extended family. All they knew was that Noah Borander was quite an admirable kid, if a little annoyingly ambitious at times. So what if they felt there was something just a tad odd about him whenever he wasn't around for a while... all it took was to meet him again and all thoughts of strangeness fled their minds, not to return for weeks if not months. It was so easy it was pathetic... he'd lost all respect for most of the people around him the moment he'd figured out how to weave their emotions like cloth, back at the tender age of six. The most pathetic of all of them was the man known as Michael Genesis... his mind was like an open book to Noah, a book he took perverse pleasure in reading in its entirety every time he had the chance, even though Michael himself was unable to get past the first few chapters, cleverly rewritten by Uncle Franklin.

Uncle Franklin was one of the people Noah still had respect for... he communicated with him every so often, even though his father would have freaked out if he'd known. Well... George Borander would have freaked out many times if he ever managed to gather the mental strength to actually investigate all the things his prodigal son was up to. Noah doubted that would ever happened... his father was a man who liked being comfortable... delving into his son's activities would be anything but. Noah had ensured it. Little did his father or anyone else for that matter realize, but Noah had already cracked the defense codes for all of ZAFT. He downloaded every bit of new information to come through the networks onto his own private servers and had rapid sifting programs constantly tumbling data, looking for interesting tidbits. Noah had also cracked the defense computers at the Earth Alliance lunar bases and was constantly downloading from those databases as well. He had known about the twelfth lunar fleet and its projected course and plan of action from the moment they had been drafted. He had weighed warning someone, but then he'd have to reveal where he got the data from, and that would lead to a series of uncomfortable questions for him. So he'd kept quiet. It wasn't his problem if ZAFT couldn't recognize a feint for what it was. Noah's search and recover virus programs hand been downloaded to Earth from the Lunar bases and had already infected over ninety percent of the Earth Alliance defense networks, and over sixty percent of the civilian internet. Every time a search and recover program hit a piece of data its control program considered interesting, it uploaded that file to a private server on Earth, which weekly dumped its contents to another private server on the PLANTS. Internet security was laughable to someone as intelligent as Noah... security companies were unwittingly spreading his viruses as part of their security updates, totally unaware that their attempts to protect against viruses like his were actually spreading the infection.

He'd also infiltrated the Blue Cosmos computer system at the facility known as JIHAD, something he'd done to keep his hands busy during one of his weekly talks with Uncle Franklin. He and Uncle Franklin didn't get along so well together... they always argued whenever they talked, but that was okay. It was actually refreshing... unable to touch his Uncle's mind down on Earth, Noah could test his ideas out against someone who was actively resistant to him. But the time for the weekly call had come and gone and Uncle Franklin had not responded to his call. It was unheard of... his Uncle may have considered him a monstrosity of genetics, but he never, ever missed a call. Noah was his only connection to the rest of his family... while he professed to hate them, there was only such much isolation a Borander could stand... they were a very close knit family, even if it didn't seem like it to outsiders. Noah had hit his computer override command, logging him into the JIHAD computers. That hadn't worked either... that was why he'd been frowning. His programs never failed... the only way they could have failed was if the computers they were on were physically destroyed. And if that was the case... Uncle Franklin was likely no longer among the living, as any disaster powerful enough to destroy the computers buried in the facility would be more than enough to collapse the entire mountain in on itself, Noah calculated. This upset him... one of his very few outlets for real conversation was now gone forever. It was... inconvenient. Noah did not like being inconvenienced.

"Are you sure, uncle? I mean, theres an entire fleet of warships out there, along with mobile armors and mobile suits. We only have the Carnot, four Elementals and the Pulsar." Noah replied in the expected fashion. He was actually not worried at all... he knew what the Elementals could do and he especially knew what the Pulsar was capable of, even though its weapon systems had yet to be installed... this was a flight and OS test, nothing more. But, being that he was ten, he was supposed to be worried. So he made himself sound nervous and potentially frightened.

"Yeah... but we've got me!" Jeremiah joked. "I've yet to lose a battle. And even though the Pulsar is unarmed, I don't think I'll have much problem with defeating a few clunky mobile armors and EA mobile suits."

Noah privately agreed with his uncle... the Pulsar was the most advanced mobile suit in the solar system... decades ahead of every other mobile suit around. Except for a single flaw in its OS that no one but Noah knew about, it was the closest thing to an invincible weapon around. "But they're all untested!" Noah made himself protest.

"Nothing like an all or nothing battle to pick up design flaws. Though given that both of us have been over the designs, I don't think there'll be many of those." Jeremiah retorted. He turned to face the ship captain. "All right, captain, I want you to put in a intercept course for that Alliance fleet. Drive us right into them... we've got to make this drastic... any half measures and they'll just try and burn right by us. I'll be down in the hanger if you need me. Noah, come with me... i'll need your help warming up the Pulsar."

"Yes, sir!" the Carnot's captain said, saluting with the highest degree of respect. It was a high honor to be serving with Ace-Commander Jeremiah Borander... there were few other mobile suit commanders he would rather have on his ship... really only Le Creuste, who was of course dead. No one else had a better record than Jeremiah Borander. And those mobile suits... the Elementals were amazing, far outclassing the current Guaize models. Each was formidable in its own right, standing eighteen meters tall and weighing seventy five tons. The basic model was armed with an anti ship sword with both physical and beam blades, two 30mm CIWS guns in the head, a 57mm beam rifle with 175mm rocket launcher attachment and a beam resistant shield. Upgraded thrusters and maneuvering jets allowed them to fly circles around a Guaize, at least on paper... they hadn't actually tested them yet. But the mass production models really shone when they equipped aspect packs. Each aspect pack was a set of modular equipment that changed the basic capabilities and even shape of the mobile suit, specializing it for a specific facet of combat. Aspect packs could be removed and refitted in a matter of hours or less with a trained crew... the current record was thirty four minutes for a complete refit. The Fire aspect pack added a second anti ship sword in place of the rifle, dropped the shield in place of even more thrusters and maneuvering jets, added a plasma flame projector to the head and 12 mobile suit grenades to the legs, positioned for easy throwing. The Earth aspect traded the shield for traction tires on the legs and a profile change that brought the mobile suit down onto its knees, traded out the sword for an 80mm gatling cannon on the left arm and added two 350mm railguns to the shoulders. The Wind aspect lost the shield to gain large fold out jet wings and afterburner thrusters, six laser guided missiles depended from these wings. The left arm of the Wind aspect hefted a 55mm machine cannon. Finally the Water aspect traded the shield for a scale movement system that allowed a submerged speed of 150kph, traded the sword and rifle for four 300mm torpedo tubes, two phonon maser palm projectors and two sets of crushing claws.

The Captain finished putting in his course changes and sat back to compensate for the acceleration. Amazing as the Elementals were, from the brief glimpses he'd caught of the fifth mobile suit being prepared down in his hanger bay... well, he didn't quite know what to think. His security classification was far too low for him to know the technical specs on the Pulsar, as it was called. He'd "heard" unofficially from some of his maintainence crews about some of the simulation data that they had happened to "oversee". He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to believe it. The mobile suit itself wasn't all that much to look upon... it was gangly, almost skeletal in aspect. It mounted precious little armor... only brief coverings of vital areas and even thinner sections around the limbs and non vital areas. It seemed like a determined man with a laser cutter could burn through the armor with a few cuts. Then there were the twelve large flange like vanes that folded down on the rear torso, rear of the arms and back of the legs. They weren't thruster or manuevering jets... the captain couldn't figure out what their purpose was. The Pulsar currently mounted no weapons... indeed the captain was hard pressed to find any place on the machine where he could definitely say "yes, a weapon could be mounted here".

Down on the hanger bay, Jeremiah was unaware of the captain's musings. Noah was not, but they were amusing enough for him not to care. The Captain really knew nothing at all... which was correct, since if he did know anything about the Pulsar, that would indicate an unacceptable security leak. He helped Jeremiah pull on the full body sensor and flight suit that he would wear while piloting the Pulsar. It wasn't actually necessary to wear the flight suit... the NIC could interface with you no matter what you were wearing... but the purpose of the test had been to gather data on the physical and mental reactions of the pilot and thus the suit. Noah was confident the flaw would not reveal itself during the test... or even this first combat for that matter. The flaw would only become apparent through prolonged use... and when it manifested itself... well, the pilot wouldn't exactly come back to complain afterwards. while his uncle continued to dress and hydrate himself in preparation for the battle, Noah wandered into the hanger bay proper almost casually, before plugging his personal computer into the maintainence computers for the Pulsar. Through their connection he ran his own battery of tests, fingers flying across the keyboard so fast it was impossible to discern the sound of individual keys being hit. Everything was operating as expected. He initiated the secret program he had hidden in the OS of the NIC while he'd been helping mom write it just as Jeremiah entered the hanger. Noah's hidden program would copy the mental patterns emitted by the pilot of the Pulsar as he flew and fought with the machine... the brainwave patterns would be sent back to Noah's computer via a secure quantum data transfer link. The data would be extremely useful in the future, once he had acquired enough power and influence to begin producing his own line of mobile suits... mobile suits that would not be hindered by the limitations of a physical pilot.

"Everything all good?" Jeremiah asked his nephew, the technical expert.

"Everything is operating perfectly." Noah confirmed, smiling as he did so... he couldn't help but enjoy the double meaning. Jeremiah nodded acknowledgement and grabbed hold of the lift wire that would take him to the cockpit section of the Pulsar. Noah just pushed off in the zero gravity of the hanger bay, his computer trailing behind a pulsing red fiber optic data line as he pulled it up with him. Jeremiah caught his nephew as he drifted past and let him drift, half upside down, next to the cockpit entrance.

"All right... lets kick off the beginning of the end for the joystick." Jeremiah said cheerfully, eyeing the dark cave of the cockpit with just a little trepidation. Unlike the cockpits he was used to, there was no chair. Just an empty circular hollow just barely bigger that he was tall and not at all big enough for him to stretch his arms out in. Steeling himself, he slowly stepped into the cockpit space and turned around. He eyed Noah and nodded once, With an electric buzz, the cockpit entrance door slid down and sealed itself tight, then the armor plate over it slid down and locked into place with a hiss of escaping gasses. Noah maintainted his position, activating the video link to the cockpit so he could see his uncle and vice versa. "Cozy in here." Jeremiah joked, though Noah could feel his anxiety radiating off him in waves... this was the first time they'd actually done this in the actual Pulsar unit. "Do it." Jeremiah commanded.

"Initiating aerated suspension gel flow." Noah typed the command into the computer which flashed instantly across to the Pulsar. Grates opened up in the floor and the small cockpit began to quickly fill with reddish semi-liquid gel. Jeremiah winced on screen... the fluid wasn't exactly cold, but it was tepid and it was tough getting used to the feel of its slight pressure on his skin, though he was glad for its stickiness... otherwise it would be drifting everywhere in the null G of the hanger. But that wasn't the worst part. As the gel level climbed up past his uncle's waist, Noah initiated another command. "Comm sensors deploying. Open wide, uncle Jeremiah."

"Funny guy." Jeremiah mock snarled, opening his jaw wide as two metal threads with disc shaped sensor pads on their ends slipped down from the ceiling over his head and began questing through the air towards him. Guided by laser designation systems, the two sensors snaked into his mouth in the zero gravity. They slid past his teeth on either side of his mouth and went partially down his throat, attaching themselves with medical glue to the top of his larynx. It took some getting used to, but he used his tongue to push the wires to the sides of his mouth, wedging the thin wires between his molars to secure them. The threads were an irritation against the lips, but he would shortly be beyond that irritation... the gel level was climbing past his neck now. "Don't worry, Noah... we'll beat them." Jeremiah said once again, while he still had air to speak into. Then the gel was at his lips and then past them, rising to cover his head and fill the cockpit fully. This was the hardest part... letting the sticky, lukewarm semi-liquid flow into his mouth and down his throat into his lungs. Fighting the gag reflex was incredibly difficult... but Jeremiah had practiced for hours and hours and he was able to do it... only retching four times. It was better once the gel reached the lungs and his body figured out it could still breathe. Breathing highly oxygenated liquid was an old deep sea diver's trick, designed to help counteract the crushing pressures found at great depths by eliminating all pockets of air in the body, so that there was no real space to crush inwards to, liquid being incompressible. In the case of the Pulsar, the oxygenated gel was an integral part of the Gravity Reduction System. The GRS combined the use of the gel with experimental magnetic fields that actually bent gravity ever so slightly, reducing its effects in a limited area. While contained in the GRS the human body could withstand thousands of G forces of accceleration or decceleration without noticing in the slightest. The system could only handle up to 15000 G forces at a time... but to exceed that limit would mean having to break the Pulsar apart anyway.

"Can you hear me okay?" Jeremiah's voice was only slightly distorted... the comm sensors on his larynx picking up the vibrations as he tried to speak and translating them into sound waves in the Pulsar's comm computer.

"Loud and clear as can be expected for a guy speaking with his lungs full of gel." Noah confirmed. He started typing rapid commands into his computer. "Bringing ships power online for Fusion Pulse Reactor startup. Think we should warn the Captain?"

"Heh." Jeremiah's face contorted into an approximation of a grin. "Better do it... would hate to make him change his pants."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Noah replied. He called up another comm window. "Captain, this is Noah Borander. Please do not be alarmed... the Pulsar is starting up and will be drawing power from the Carnot to do so. There may be some momentary loss of power. Don't worry, it will be temporary."

"What do you mean, loss of powe..." Noah cut the comm link before the Captain could fully ask his question. "He's been warned. Initiating FPR startup in... three... two... one... startup!" Noah said, counting down slowly. There was an electrical shriek as more than six hundred percent normal operating power was diverted from the ship's engines to the Pulsar's internal systems... barely enough power to provide the spark of energy to start the Fusion Pulse Reactor's chain reaction. The entire Carnot lost all power for fifty seconds before the plasma reactors could be recovered from their emergency overpower shutdowns. But the important thing was that the Pulsar's primary power source was operating eaxctly as expected. Unlike a nuclear reactor, a Fusion reactor did not rely on uranium or other fissile metals decaying at a critical mass, producing neutrons which would cause further chain reactions, producing heat which would heat a fluid... usually water or some liquid metals... which would then flow and transfer its heat to a secondary system to produce steam to power turbines. Instead, a Fusion reactor combined hydrogen atoms together to create helium atmos, the energy from which was collected by special extremely high temperature conductors and transformed directly into electrical energy. The only problem with Fusion reactors... the problem that had prevented their development, was that the heat they produced was so incredible... millions of degrees farenheit... that no human constructed metals could contain it. And no magnetic field had yet proven strong enough to contain the reaction elements at a high enough pressure to continue a chain reaction for more than a few tens of seconds without catastrophically failing and often destroying the reactor... and usually the lab itself too. But the Borander family had found a way around this little problem. The Fusion Pulse Reactor maintained a fusion reaction for at most, five milliseconds at a time. It would then turn off for roughly a second while cooling systems dissipated the heat and magnetic coils rebuilt the magnetic field. It would then use a portion of the power produced during its operating time to reignite the reaction for five more milliseconds and so forth. Most nuclear reactors produced between 50 and 5000 megawatts of power. During five milliseconds a FPR produced 500,000 megawatts... one hundred times as much energy. It required 30,000 megawatts to restart the fusion ignition process... actually not all that much when measured against the energy produced. The only problem again was the heat. During those five milliseconds, the reactor core vessel was heated to temperatures of more than forty thousand degrees farenheit... enough to melt almost any metal. The Boranders had finally managed to produce a high temperature alloy at hideous cost that could tolerate the heat... and the tremendously fast cooldown to ambient temperatures forced on it by the cooling system.

The cooling system itself consisted of both internal and external coolers. Internally there were four extremely high powered fans, which constantly circulated a mixture of vaporized liquid oxygen and liquid nitrogen... both gasses supercooled down to negative three hundred degrees farenheit. During reactor operation, these gasses would heat up to roughly two thousand degrees farenheit, but in the process limiting the heat up of the core vessel to the previously stated 40000 degrees. To recool the gasses the secondary system came into play... a second liquid oxygen system that was connected to the twelve folding vanes on the Pulsars back and limbs. Circulating at a speed of more than 300 kph, the liquid oxygen in the secondary system flowed through the reactor core cooling system and supercooled it back down to 300 degrees, transmitting the heat to the cooling vanes, which radiated it off into the surrounding space or atmosphere. The system worked best in the icy reaches of space, but system projections calculated that operation in atmosphere would not significantly change operating parameters. The cooling vanes represented the major weakness of the Pulsar... without at least half of them operating, the system would rapidly overheat and the magnetic fields would fail, resulting in an extremely powerful thermonuclear explosion, likely rated into the gigatons. Of course, the system could be placed in lower power modes... extending the cooldown time betwen fusion pulses... but that would reduce the effectiveness of the mobile suit as well.

"All cooling systems reading blue and cold." Noah reported.

"I see that too. Well, that's a relief... glad to see the FPR works outside the test range." Jeremiah replied. "I'm powering up the secondary systems... wow... that was a fast powerup. I keep forgetting how much juice this baby pumps out."

"The quantum computers series linked that hold the OS help too... whats the processing speed again... three fifty terahertz, I think?" Noah said with a smile. "All right... now for the big step. Starting up the NIC control system. Brace yourself for system connection."

"This part always gets to me." Jeremiah said, unable to contain his humor even in a serious situation like this. More shiny metallic threads lopped and twisted their way throught the GRS gel towards his body... dozens of them, coming from all directions. It was like being swarmed by a score of jellyfish tentacles. The questing wires pushed insistently at the yielding material of his sensor suit, punching through almost at once. They slithered along his skin until they reached specific target points and then burrowed into the skin like worms. The wires were coated in an adhesive blood coagulant and anasthetic, so their entry points neither bled nor hurt. The wire tip found each nerve junction and plugged itself in as it was programmed to do. Ten different wires bored through the scalp into the skull, fixing themselves to the centers of brain activity related to motor control, reflexes and the five senses. On screen, Jeremiah blinked rapidly and twitched a few times as the NIC system powered up and sent confirmation signals twinkling through his nerves... a sensation much like being tickled all over the inside of his body at once,

"NIC connection confirmed. System test complete. All nerve connections satisfactory. Brain control centers contacted and confirmed. All system functions nominal. How does it feel, Uncle?" Noah asked. Never before had someone brought the NIC system to full operation... also never before while the NIC system was installed into the machine it was designed to operate. Jeremiah's eyes flew open and at the same moment the red camera lenses that served the Pulsar as eyes flared brightly before dimming down to a constant low glow. Slowly the Pulsar's right arm came up and stopped in front of it's face. Jeremiah's arm muscles twitched slightly on screen, but his flesh arm did not move. The Pulsar inspected its hand much like a human waking up from a long slumber might, rotating the hand left and right, clenching its fist and fully extending all its fingers.

"This is incredible. I feel like the machine really is me!" Jeremiah breathed. Noah rolled his eyes... his uncle spoke nothing but the literal truth... now that it was plugged in to him, the NIC and by extension the Pulsar was his body, not the flesh he normally wore. By intercepting and redirecting his nerve signals, the machine moved instead of his physical body... it was a breathtaking accomplishment of computer design and bioloical research. Noah tapped his fingers impatiently on the side of his computer... he had known it would work from the beginning. Jeremiah brought himself back to the here and now with an effort of will... he'd get all the opportunity he wanted to try out the Pulsar soon... right now he needed to be a Commander, not a kid with a new toy. "Aren't the Elemental pilots ready yet? I want to be armed and ready to go in ten minutes."

"They're coming in now, Uncle." Noah replied. None of the Elemental test pilots looked twice at the Pulsar... they'd seen it many times before on the trip out and they had no real idea what it was, other than some super new prototype.

"Borander team, attention!" Jeremiah broadcast over his external speakers. Noah clapped his hands to his ears... floating next to the Pulsar, he got blasted by the noise. Jeremiah noticed and felt guilty... with a tender touch he pushed his nephew back down to the floor with one hand. The four members of his experimental team snapped to attention, looking up at the Pulsar expectantly. "The very fate of the PLANTS rests in our ability to delay this Earth Alliance fleet long enough for back up to arrive. I don't doubt for a second the enemy has nuclear armaments and the will to use them. I know that we will be heavily outnumbered, but I have faith in your ability to contain the enemy. After all, they'll be in mobile armors and Strike Daggers or at best those Strike Crusaders. You'll be in Elementals. You're also some of the best pilots I've ever had the honor of flying with... all elites in the elites. I am reassured when I look at you... the fate of the PLANTS could not be in better hands than yours. Now, get moving... I want to be flight capable in ten minutes."

"SIR!" the four pilots saluted and raced for their machines. Techs who had been banned from the hanger while the Pulsar was starting up... emergency or not, it was still top secret... came rushing back in. In a frenzy of activity, module parts were added or stripped off of the four machines as they were prepped for space combat. One pilot chose to go with the Fire aspect, two of the other three chose Wind aspect and the last chose to go aspectless, confident in the power of the unaugmented machine. Batteries connected to ship power slowly filled up to full... incidentally only a 5 drain on total ship power for all four suits combined. Crates of machine cannon shells were unpacked and loaded and misisles were carefully uncrated and guided up onto the Wind Aspect wings. Jeremiah kept the Pulsar in the lowest power operating mode possible... he didn't want to deploy the colling vanes any more than he had too... with his heat output the hanger bay would quickly warm to desert midday temperatures, despite the ship's cooling systems, if he operated at full power.

"Elemental one all ready!" One pilot, the one in the unaugmented mobile suit, reported over the team comm line. His eyes bugged out of his head when Jeremiah replied... the comm screen was small, but more that big enough to reveal that his team commander was floating in what looking like a vat of strawberry jelly, with silver wires burrowing into his skull and other body parts. "What the fuck?"

"Don't worry about it, Elemantal one. Beyond your security clearance." Jeremiah replied. He stepped forward, the Pulsars feet touching the deck as lightly as a trained dancers or martial artists... Jeremiah was both. He heard gasps of admiration from the technical crews around him... it was nigh impossible to move a mobile suit so lightly with normal controls. With the NIC, it was almost as easy as it would be were he on a dance floor. He couldn't resist showing off, just a little. Without warning he pulled both legs up and rotated his arms back, pulling himself into a backwards somersault by shifting the Pulsar's center of gravity. He flipped completely over once and then touched a hand down so the Pulsar was now doing a single hand handstand. He brought the other hand over and saluted, coming to attention upside down and balanced on one hand. The hanger was so silent he heard a wrench drop from nerveless fingers from completely across the hanger. And given that they were in null G, the wrench barely floated to the ground and made only the slightest "tink".

"Did you just turn a backflip in my hanger bay?" the Carnot's captain radioed from the hanger observation room, roughly at the Pulsar's current foot height.

"That's an affirmative." Jeremiah replied casually. "I can tapdance too, if you want."

"I might have to take you up on that at a future time. A tapdancing mobile suit would be a grand story to tell the kids. Even if they would call me crazy." the Captain replied. "I won't pretend to understand how you just pulled that off... but we have bigger concerns. Our sensors have picked up the Alliance fleet. Like you commanded, we're diving right into them. We'll be in combat range in twenty minutes. I just thought you should know.' The captain half turned, then turned back. "You're not going to mess with my ship's power again, are you?"

"Not until we have to start up again... so... not on this voyage, captain."

"That's a relief... you nearly gave my engineering officer a heart attack." the Captain said, obviously pleased. "Aren't you going to connect to the ship's power banks? You'll lose some charge before the battle otherwise."

"That won't be necessary." Noah cut in. "The Pulsar is not powered by batteries."

"I didn't see any N-Jammer Cancelers..." the Captain trailed off, realizing he'd spoken out loud. 'My pardon, above my clearance, I know."

"It's all right." Jeremiah assured him. "Just don't let your curiosity overwhelm you... there are some things you are better off not knowing for the moment." Jeremiah turned, flipped forward and stepped forward to the launch line, disdaining the connection to the linear catapult... the Pulsar's thrusters were more powerful by far. He acknowledged the muted readiness reports of his other three teammates as he got into position.

"Don't you at least want a weapon of some sort? A gun? A knife?" the Captain asked, surprised.

"I don't need no gun... I ain't got no knife... don't you start no fight... cause I'm TNT... I'm DYNAMITE!" Jeremiah quoted an ancient rock song back to the captain and chuckled at the twisted expression of bewilderment on the man's face. "You should listen to excavation rock more often captain... some of the stuff from a hundred or so years back is actually pretty good."

"If you say so, sir." the captain replied. The maintaince and tech crews fled the hanger into their airtight ready rooms. Jeremiah smiled as the hanger doors opened, exposing the hanger to vacuum. The linear catapult extended but he didn't wait for it to power up. He dialled up the power to 100 percent, snapping the cooling vanes out to nominal positon and causing them to glow apple red as they worked to dissipate the heat of the FPR.

"Commander Jeremiah Borander... Pulsar... Taking off." Jeremiah paused a second and then jammed on the afterburners with a thought that had nothing to do with any normal human movement but still felt completely second nature to him. "YEEEHA!" he whooped as the thrusters ignited in blasts of blue flame that sent the Pulsar hurtling from the hanger bay at speeds greater than 6000kph and climbing rapidly. To the pilots in the Elementals it was like the Pulsar was shot forward by a high powered rifle... no human being should have been able to survive a take off like that. But they could all hear Jeremiah whooping and laughing in exhiliration as he rocketed around outside, turning flips and inversions that no human pilot had ever attempted before and lived to tell the tale. Truly the face of mobile suit war had just been changed... but was it for the better?

Author Note: You wanted mobile suit combat? Brace yourselves.


	64. Pulsar Dominatus

Back on Earth the Third Battle for Carpentaria continued to rage, regardless of the events occuring in space. The Earth Alliance forces were still battling to standstill, unable to breach the first line of defense, except for the notable exception of the Orb forces, who had become trapped between the second and first defense lines, unable to give or recieve support to or from the rest of the attack. In the atmosphere the ZAFT forces had largely mopped up the Skygraspers and jet fighters or sent them fleeing in retreat and could now descend, weary though they were, to help out with the ground war. In low orbit things were not going nearly as well for ZAFT. The remaining two Nazca class ships and their dwindling Guaize force were belaboured on all sides by the highly trained pilots of the Orb M4's. Lain Debora had accounted for three Guaizes in addition to his initial captial ship... not a bad haul for his first taste of real combat. Hard pressed, it looked like the fight in space was all but over for ZAFT... and when they lost space superiority they would lose all chance of quick resupply or reinforcement from home. A relief fleet was on the way, but not due to arrive for several more hours... by then elements of the EA lunar fleets could be in position to secure low orbit for themselves. The two ship groups of the EA that had broken past the ZAFT submarine forces had arived at about five o'clock and begun shelling the first and second lines of defense, not too threatening by itself, but combined with the balanced on a hair battle that was raging, it threatened to tip things in favor of the Earth Alliance for good.

Asmodeus was actually starting to feel good for once. The Merciless had just arrived and dropped off the Bane and Fury, the pilots for which had been rushed into medical care in order to get them back on their feet and ready for deployment as soon as was feasibly. The doctors were sceptical about Frost... his injuries would have kept a normal man in bed for months, but Asmodeus remained confident the BCPU 6 would be up and about in a few hours or days at the most... he had an astonishing capability for absorbing damage and bouncing right back. Ashino's injuries were less severe... mainly just a major concussion and a few broken bones... he'd be ready in four hours. Once the Bane joined the Merciless the fight would be all but over... two BCPU's would be far more than the hard pressed ZAFT defenders would be able to deal with. Asmodeus's good mood was ruined by a shout from the radar operator.

"Sir! We have a large contact approaching us along the Merciless's arrival course! Computers have identified the ship as the former AFSF Archangel! They are approaching us at combat speed and their weapons show powered up to combat levels!"

"Are they actually going to interfere in a full scale battle this time, rather than just sit on the sidelines and prevent either side from fighting to so called excess?" Asmodeus wondered. He snapped around. "What is the position of the Kusanagi?"

"Unchanged, sir. Still maintaining distance at roughly fifty miles to our south."

"ETA on the Archangel?"

"Three eight minutes and counting, sir." One the flight decks outside the massive Merciless was just lifting off to head for Carpentaria.

"Should we recall the Merciless, Mr. Sark?" one of the admirals asked nervously... technically he outranked the former EFSOU captain, but Asmodeus wielded an astounding amount of power and influence in his position as head of the Blue Cosmos operations department.

"No... the Merciless will maintain its ordered course of action. Divert one third of the third wave towards the Archangel and another third towards the Kusanagi... its high time they learned that there is no third side in this war."

"That only leaves a third of the wave to reinforce the forces assualting Carpentaria... will that be enough?" a general asked. The man eyed the map table, which showed that the third wave was just over half way to Carpentaria... diverting them would take time.

"With the Merciless arriving in their wake it will be more than enough. Divert those troops! I need them back here ASAP! Don't worry about formalities when engaging either... the Kusanagi attacked our missiles which is as good as attacking us. And the Archangel... I have strong reason to believe that ship is coming from attacking an EA base... they've already declared war, its our job to show them what a mistake that was." Asmodeus replied. "What's the ETA on the ZAFT submarine forces?"

"One hour ten minutes, sir"

"This is going to be close. What is the status of the merchant marine fleet?"

"They have passed through the ZAFT submarine force... losses number at twenty three ships sunk, four damaged and scuttled and twelve damaged but continuing on." the officer replied, wincing... twenty percent casualties were ruinious in most engagements. "They'll be landing in one hour and fifty minutes... about ten minutes before the third wave arrives and forty minutes before the Merciless."

"Status of mobile suit power for engaged mobile suits?" Asmodeus asked, his eyes closed as he calculated factors.

"Well, we managed to capture a few ZAFT recharging stations... most of our forces are on their third recharge... they've got power enough in the rechargers for another two recharges for each machine... about three hours at this pace."

"So Cray will only have thirty minutes to break the enemy lines enough to at least capture a few more charging stations... it'll be damned close. But he should be able to do it, especially since some of the machines can recharge off the transport ships when they arrive." Asmodeus was still thinking out loud. "Status of the twelfth lunar fleet?"

"They are proceeding on schedule except for one hitch. A single Laurasia class destroyer is driving right at them at maximum thrust... last report has the Laurasia class launching mobile suits in prepartion for combat. They'll be engaged within the half hour. A larger fleet of Nazca and Laurasia class ships is burning for that sector at flank speed, but won't arrive for at least two hours... far too late, assuming the single Laurasis doesn't pull off a mircale." an admiral replied with complete confidence. Asmodeus was not reassured... why would a single ship commit suicide like that, driving right at the enemy? Far better to stand off and harass and snipe... Laurasia class ships were fast enough to stay out of reach of mobile suits and mobile armors while still harassing the fleet enough to perhaps slow them long enough for backup to arrive. The ZAFT strategy did not make any sense... which meant he was missing something, because ZAFT did not do crazy irrational things. Something was going seriously wrong in space... he thought about contacting Cervantes again and shuddered... the last phone call had been explosive to say the least. Asmodeus had been angered and exasperated at the condition of the BCPU's and the fate of JIHAD. Cervantes had blown up... the loss of his prize base and the wounding of his prize BCPU's to a level where they could not participate in his prize plan sending him into a chomping, foaming rage. But there was no hiding from the inevitable. Asmodeus picked up the phone again. "AFFC (Atlantic Federation Force Command) please... yes, for Mr. Zunnichi again... I'm sorry to hear that, but it's of the highest importance. Just let me worry about that. Just connect me, damn you! Ah... hello, Mr. Zunnichi... yes... me again. No... I'm sorry sir, the battle hasn't been won yet. Why am I calling then? Well, sir, we may have a bit of a problem up in space..."

On the bridge of the Archangel Murrue blinked and yawned wearily. Something nudged her elbow and she looked up to find Waltfeld standing next to her a slight smile on his face. She took the proffered cup of rich brown coffee... likely from his personal store, she knew and inhaled the wonderful aroma.

"Finest warship coffee around. Took me absolute ages to perfect." Waltfeld said proudly. "But a few sips of that will keep you up through a twelve hour watch and the one after it too... there's caffeine enough in there to wake the dead."

"Mmm... doesn't taste all that caffeinated." Murrue commented.

"Well, it wouldn't, now would it? I mean, if you could taste the caffeine, what would the point be of the other ingredients?" Waltfeld said with a smile, picking up his own cup from the top of her chair. He studied the threat board intently. "Just a few of them, aren't there?" I count at least six carriers, assorted escorts and who knows what that monster in the middle is... thing looks big enough to eat the Archangel."

"Yes... we'll be on top of them in about half an hour. What should we do, you think?" Murrue asked.

"Well... now that you're asking my professional opinion..." Waltfeld sat down on the deck next to her chair and leaned back against it with a slight groan of relief. "I think we should go in with all guns blazing. I know we've tried to keep out of the major battles thus far... sit on the sidelines, prevent the use of WMDs, that sort of thing. But I just don't think that's really working out. Unless we make our presence directly known and felt we'll never get through to either side... if they don't count us as a threat then they won't respect us when we put forth a peace proposal. Its a plain fact of life... in a gunfight, nobody listens to the guy with a salad fork." Murrue could not help but chuckle... as ever, Waltfelds analogies were quite... unique.

"Are you sure we can win such a fight though? With Kira and the other pilots still recuperating... and our mobile suit forces still divided between us and the Kusanagi... if they have any sort of mobile suit force with them we'll be in a heap of trouble. I'm not so worried about the surface ships... the Archangel outclasses them all in terms of endurance and firepower... but in truth our greatest strength is denied us right now."

"I'm not sure if win is the appropriate word. We don't have to win a fight... we just have to make our presence known... and then get the hell out of there. All we have to do is survive long enough to say... take down that big ass ship and maybe another carrier or two. And then survive long enough to book it for the open ocean. We should be able to do that in one pass." Waltfeld answered. "Speaking of the Kusanagi, shouldn't we have heard from them about now?" as if summoned by Waltfelds words the Comm operator looked over.

"We have a communication from the Kusanagi coming in, Captain. They're holding position about seventy miles to our west. It's Colonel Kisaka."

"I should take up fortune telling... sometimes I'm so good I scare even myself." Waltfeld commented, sotto voce. Murrue silenced him with a smile and a gesture. She picked up the comm phone.

"This is Captain Ramius speaking." Murrue motioned for the comm operator to put Kisaka on the speakerphone.

"Captain Ramius... it's good to hear from you again. We were all very worried about you when you informed us that you were going after the kidnapped pilots." Kisaka said heavily. Murrue had to stifle a smile... Kisaka was so plainly worried about Cagalli, but was unable to ask directly without looking like an overprotective father.

"I won't say everyone is fine... but Cagalli is relatively unharmed. Just some facial and neck bruising suffered during interrogation by Blue Cosmos. Compared to say Dearka or Athrun, she got off quite lightly." Murrue replied. She stifled her smile again when Kisaka's sigh of relief became audible... he'd sighed quite a bit louder than he meant to. Perhaps realizing this, Kisaka immediately got back on the line.

"So you did manage to rescue everyone... I'm very grateful to you for that."

"Unfortunately, not everyone was rescued. Chanel Belaruse was executed by one of the BCPU's at the order of Asmodeus Sark before we could arrive." Murrue admitted with a sad shake of her head. The line was dead silent... Kisaka hadn't known the girl any better than Murrue, but he did know the girl's adoptive parents... Raine Belaruse and Alkire Majesty aka Robert Jones very well indeed.

"Robert and Raine must be heartbroken... those girls were children to them..." Kisaka's whispered voice barely came across the line. Murrue could detect more than a hint of old pain in Kisaka's voice... maybe he'd lost a child too, at some point? She didn't know all that much about the Orb Colonel's history... she'd never thought it polite to dig. "One more crime to lay at the feet of Blue Cosmos." Kisaka's voice came back strong and tough and hard as cold steel. Concern for Cagalli's well being satisfied, Kisaka returned to his usual bluff business attitude. "So what are your plans? Our sensors show you on a direct course for the EA command fleet."

"Yes... we've decided that despite our desires to prevent killing as much as possible, there is no way we can make our presence known and felt enough in this war by just sitting on the sidelines and shooting down missiles." Murrue replied. "If we are not perceived as a strong force by either side then they will not listen to us when the time comes to sue for peace. We have to make a difference and the best way to do that is to disable or destroy the agressors command ship, which is that supercarrier, unless I'm totally mistaken."

"Missiles... a sore subject. We managed to get about half of them... ZAFT got most of the rest. But seven made it through the defenses. Twenty eight warheads in all. I'm afraid... Australia is in ruins. Four major cities are just gone, as are all three major military bases. Casualties are already up in the tens of millions... radioactive fallout will likely up that more in the next few years. Ayer's Rock also took a hit... for what reason, other than pure maliciousness, we have been unable to determine. One nuke exploded in mid atmosphere and took down two of the five ZAFT warships in low orbit... the other nukes caused severe damage to the Oceania Union navy and pretty much disabled Carpentaria's third defense line. In retaliation I think ZAFT worked out some way to destroy the EA submarine forces... they've currently got seven submarine carriers and a bunch of mobile suits inbound underwater, ETA about fifty minutes." Kisaka informed them. Murrue held her hands to her mouth in horror... who would have imagined that the EA would nuke civilian targets... it was obscene. Waltfeld wasn't surprised... after the nuking of Junius Seven he had few doubts on the ability of humanity to do terrible things to itself for little reason at all.

"This only proves that we have to make our presence known... if we don't do something quick and bring this war to a swift end, I'm too sure that tragedies like this will only grow more common, not less. We're fortunate that ZAFT has so far confined itself to the less destructive WMDs... Gugnirs and the like. I don't think they're going to be nearly as pleasant in the future." Waltfeld cut in.

"I know I wouldn't be." Kisaka confirmed. "We're altering course to come up and support you. You're right... we can no longer afford to be mere peacekeepers... we must become a third side to the war... a third side that both of the other two must respect. Only then can we convince them to work together for peace. In truth it saddens me... we're back to calling for peace with guns in our hands... but that seems to be the only strategy that works."

"The media is going to crucify us for this." Murrue noted. "But that's a risk we must take. With any luck, people around the world will see this for what it is... an intervention with the intent to stop the war from escalating further... and not what it will be portrayed as... the random attacks of terrorists." A sudden alarm siren cut off the conversation. Murrue whipped her neck around to look at the CIC section. "What is it?"

"We've got mobile suit carriers inbound, Captain. ETA ten minutes and closing. Estimate twenty five carriers for seventy five mobile suits at least. Long range sensors show a similarly sized force closing on the Kusanagi."

"We've picked them up as well. Maybe they consider us more of a threat than we thought... they're certainly coming in with more than their usual heavy handedness." Kisaka said almost at once. "They've diverted two thirds of their second wave, just for our two ships... they either want us dead very badly or they think they have Carpentaria already wrapped up... neither of which reassures me."

"This doesn't change anything. It just increases the level of danger. We still have to destroy that command ship... now we have to do it before the mobile suits turn us into scrap metal. Nothing like a time limit to make you go all out, eh?" Waltfeld smirked. "Permission to go to battle stations?"

"All hands, go to battle stations!" Murrue commanded immediately. "I repeat, all hands, battle stations!"

Six decks below Kira woke with a start. He gently disengaged himself from Lacus, who mumbled in her tranquilizer aided sleep and turned over, hugging the warm spot on the bed where he'd formerly been. Kira smiled and brushed her hair away from her face... she'd suffered so much more than he had... and his suffering had been no laughing matter. He wasn't quite sure what to think, now that he knew about the Newtype phenomenom... it certainly explained a few things... but as always, it only raised more questions. As usual, "why them?" was near the top of the list. Kira quickly got dressed in his old EA uniform... the only one he could find in the slightly darkened room. His hands ached but he forced himself to ignore it... he'd heard the battle stations alert siren and he knew what he had to do. He was the only pilot capable of deployment right now... sure his hands were injured, but only the backs of them... he could fight around that easily in SEED mode. Maybe he'd regret it later... but that was better than regretting the ship exploding around him while he lay comfortably in bed. He stripped off all but the thinnest layer of bandages and was just going out the door when he felt an almost painful pinch inside his head. "Ouch..." Kira rubbed his head. He looked back over his shoulder... Lacus was staring at him, wide awake.

"So that's what that does..." Lacus murmered to herself. "Must remember to thank Katie next time I see her... never would have known to try if she hadn't mentioned it to me." Plainly Lacus wasn't nearly as awake as she looked... she never talked to herself when awake. She shook her head slightly. "You're going off to fight, aren't you?"

Kira didn't deny it. Lacus sighed. "I expected you would... you wouldn't be you if you didn't try to help others, no matter the cost to yourself."

"That's not a description that can be applied to me alone... I'm far from the only self sacrificing person in this room." Kira noted in reply. Lacus half smiled.

"I know. Just come back to me when you're done saving the world... I'll keep the bed warm for you. And don't wear yourself out too much... I've got a few plans now that we aren't in cells any more."

"I'll do my best to come back ready for anything." Kira smiled. He stepped out of the door and almost ran into Alkire.

"Going somewhere, Mr. I should be in a hospital bed?" Alkire asked.

"Yeah... I'm going to the hanger. Gotta have my exercise for the day or I get cranky." Kira replied, brushing past him.

"Funny thing... I was going there too... for the same reason. I just can't sleep at night unless I've done a bit of flying... you know, theres a nice Skygrasper on this ship that I've really been itching to take out for a spin." Alkire fell into step beside him, hands casually in his pockets. "And imagine that... but the Liberty has also been prepped to go... who'd a thunk?"

"Yeah... no kidding... it's almost like they want us to go out and pull their fat out of the fire." Kira nodded his head, playing along, wondering how Alkire had managed to get his mobile suit prepped for launch.

"Almost, yeah." Alkire aknowledged. He smirked... he really owed James and Victor one... how they and Vlad had managed to prep both the Skygrasper and the Liberty was beyond him... they must have been working almost nonstop since Murrue left the medical room. "Hey... in all seriousness... there's a lot of enemies out there. An entire fleet in front of us... at least seventy five mobile suits behind us... just as many on the Kusanagi... this isn't going to be a jaunt in the park."

"What are you trying to say?" Kira asked.

"I'm trying to say that there's a lot of good reasons for you to come back alive and in one piece... no need to try and take them all on by yourself."

"I never planned on being Horiatio at the bridge." Kira replied. "I'll take on as many as I can, no more. Just like you." They reached the hanger prep room and they both started pulling on flight suits... Kira's his normal blue, with Alkire finding a light green that fit reasonably well.

"I guess I don't exactly have to give you combat advice, huh? You've been in a lot more of these situations than I have." Alkire said with a smile. He paused for a few moments, the smile draining away. "I won't be able to avoid killing them."

"I know. I don't force my friends to follow my philosophy... it pains me when people are killed unnecessarily, but... who I am to tell someone else how to fight for survival? This is a war... I realize that. People die in wars. I try not to be the one doing the killing... but... well... it happens."

"So we friends now?" Alkire asked carefully.

"I don't fly with enemies." Kira answered. He half put his helmet on. "We have a lot of differences... moral, philosophical, historical... but we're on the same side, Alkire. I won't forget that. You choose to stand with us and support Lacus's and Cagalli's dreams for peace with your own free will... as far as I'm concerned, that makes you a man I won't ever mind standing beside." Kira put his helmet on. "Mind though, that I'm probably never going to invite you over for dinner."

"Roger that. That's all good to me. I mean, you're a great guy, Kira... God knows I wish I could have grown up with your sense of moral justice... but you're right... you and I just don't see eye to eye and I don't think we ever will. We're battle partners... not bar buddies. I'm glad we cleared the air." Alkire put his own helmet on and lightly punched Kira's shoulder. "Good luck and good hunting."

Kira tapped his shoulder back, causing Alkire to wince as the blow landed directly on one of the bullet grazes Cray had given him. "Good luck yourself... I'll be in a mobile suit... it's those jets that are deathtraps." Kira walked away, into the hangers.

"Thanks for that freaking image, you low bastard!" Alkire called after him. "Imagine, saying something like that before a life or death fight... ya gone an jinxed me!"

Kira ignored him, activating the lift wire that would carry him to cockpit level. He climbed into the familiar confines of the Liberty's cockpit... it was quite similar to that of the Freedom. He buckled himself in, winching slightly as his gloves caught on his burns... it was only barely more than a twinge though and he pushed past it. He punched the reactor start button and the Liberty smoothly powered up. He hit the phase shift, performed a five second system check that assured him that everything was operating properly and opened a comm channel to the bridge. "This is Kira Yamato, in the Liberty, requesting permission to take off."

"Kira?" Murrue's surprised voice came back to him. "You should be in bed, resting! You're wounded!"

"Believe me, there's fewer places I'd rather be than back in bed. But the situation demands otherwise... I understand we have more than a few incoming mobile suits."

"... yes... and who told you that?"

"I might have let something slip." Alkire said cheerily interrupted. "This is Alkire Majesty, in Skygrasper one, in the starboard hanger. I'm all geared up and ready to go as soon as the kid is."

"And how did you get a Skygrasper all prepared to deploy?" Murrue asked, exasperated. "For that matter, you're wounded too... you should also be in bed."

"I'll sleep on the way back from the battle... this seat is actually pretty comfortable. As for the Skygrasper... c'mon... I'm ALKIRE MAJESTY for crying out loud... you really shouldn't be surprised."

"I can see I'll be having a talk with the mechanics about hanger security in the future." Murrue sighed. "Very well... I cannot deny that your help will be greatly appreciated. You both have permission to launch... opening hanger doors now. Just be sure you both come back... there's people on board who are depending on your safe return."

"Of course." Kira replied.

"Roger that." Alkire added. "Race ya to the enemy, kid. Last one there buys the beer."

"Kira Yamato... Liberty... Taking off."

"Alkire Majesty... Skygrasper one... going all out!"

Asmodeus studied his threat displays... against all odds the Archangel had managed to deploy a mobile suit and a Skygrasper, despite Cray's assurances that all their capable pilots were injured. The mobile suit was the Liberty... which gave a very high probability that Kira Yamato was now one of his enemies. This was not a good thing... Kira Yamato had a well deserved reputation for being nigh unbeatable in mobile suit combat. And his only BCPU's were either too far way to make a difference or still recuperating. He wasn't likely to get much helpful advice from Cervantes... his boss had thrown his phone across the room at the end of the last conversation they'd had, about the Laurasia class menacing the climactic blow up in space... calling him again would only end in bloodshed... his blood. And deploying himself, in his Purifier, wouldn't balance the odds much... it may have been a superior mobile suit but Asmodeus was only a mediocre pilot at best... certainly not the sort who should be standing in the ring with Yamato. He could only sit and wait and hope the third of wave three would be able to do what no one else had yet been able to do and shoot down Kira Yamato, then destroy the Archangel. He didn't even worry about the ZAFT submarine force... if he survived the Archangel and Kusanagi he would worry about them. "All ships... prepare for anti mobile suit and anti ship warfare."

"Wow, it looks like theres even more of them than I thought from this vantage point." Alkire radioed, circling high above the Archangel. He'd attached the Aile Striker pack to the Skygrasper... his fighting style empashized maneuverability and speed, not heavy weapons. "There's at least thirty transports... they're starting to deploy mobile suits... but I might have a few things to say about that." Alkire jammed the control stick over and dropped the Skygrasper into a spinning dive, pulling up as soon as he reached the transports flight level. Using the speed from the dive and an extra special kick from the afterburners, Alkire closed the ten miles to the enemy in seconds. Most of the transports were still just starting to deploy their cargo of Strike Crusaders when Alkire reached them, beam cannons blazing, macine guns stuttering and missiles spearing from his launch bays as fast as he could trigger them. His first pass blew four transports out of the sky, trapping more than half the mobile suits aboard as they plummeted to a watery doom. "Hah! Thats what... eight or nine to my credit already! Whatta ya say to that, kid?"

Kira did not reply... a purple seed slowly dropped through his mind... bounced once... and exploded in a flash of revealing light. His hands flew across the control surfaces, activating his multi-target system. With resounding "blink" sounds his computers started labeling targets. Two... four... five... eight... twelve... eighteen... twenty four. Twenty four red target locked icons appeared on his screen. He calaculated an instant more to be sure of his points of aim and then fired. Blue-red plasma beams, yellow railgun tracers, hyphens of green beam energy and the triple orange beams of the sniper cannon screamed out of his arsenal. Target icons started dropping like flies in an ice storm... arms disintegrated, legs blown off, heads shot through... his shots kept coming and coming, each an unerring strike directly to some vulnerable but non fatal point on the mobile suit that knocked it spinning from the fight, disabled but not destroyed. Kira slowly walked his fire back and forth through the oncoming enemy, twitching aside to avoide the desultory return fire as need be, updating his multi-target system when he started to run out of red icons.

Alkire was turning around for another pass when Kira pulled out all the stops. For a moment Alkire forgot how to fly the plane, his jaw dropping. "Holy shite!" He closed his jaw and it dropped again. "The kid is a freaking god!" He started to count the disabled mobile suits, but was unable to keep up the pace... for every one he counted Kira dropped at least one more. And they were all non fatalities... the kid was shooting to disable and still maintaining that unrelenting pace. "Fine... I can tell when I'm not required. No need to hit me in the face with a sledgehammer. I'll go help the Kusanagi then."

Down below the Archangel had reached the outer ring of escort ships. Dodging or just ignoring their cannon fire... the ship's laminated armor was designed to resist far more powerful attacks than the ships could make... the Archangel opened fire with Valiants, Gottfried's and Iegelstellung. Each shot blasted easily through the light armor boasted by the destroyers and cruisers... in modern warfare ships tried to avoid getting hit in the first place... armor was a secondary concern. When the Kusanagi came storming through, anti air weapons blazing in all directions as it did all it could to dissuade the seventy plus mobile suits hounding its tail, the line of escort ships broke and routed. Alkire dived once again, coming out of the sun at the enemy, accounting for three mobile suits in his surprise attack. Unfortunately, twelve of their friends turned away from the Kusanagi and pursued him. The air around the twisting and juking Skygrasper quickly filled with far too many red-blue hyper impulse cannon blasts for his comfort.

It was at about this time that Cray finally reached land. It was about time too... seeing all that water passing below him had satrted doing funny things to his bladder... even a BCPU had to piss sometime. The third wave had arrived ahead of him, but its greatly reduced strength had done little but shore up the EA positions... without a drastic change in the balance soon, the entire attack would stall out for lack of power. Cray had passed over the merchant marine ships, still steaming for all they were worth, about ten minutes ago... that would help some, but all those infantrymen and vehicles were goning to need some place to go, otherwise they'd get shelled into oblivion on the beaches. Luckily for the EA, Cray was currently flying such a drastic change as was needed. He immediately launched both tactical nukes... one was destroyed on the way up, but the other struck home, tearing a three hundred meter gap in the second defense line. The Merciless descended into that smoking crater like meteor descending from heaven, landing with a crack like the doom of the earth itself. Cray wasted no time in stomping forward, weapons powered up and hunting for targets.

A pair of GINNs came running up, beam rifles spitting green death. Cray casually sidestepped their fire and wasted them both with a single blast from the 400mm anti armor shotgun on his right arm. More enemy mobile suits started rushing forward to fill the gap in the second defense line... BuCue's, LaGowe's, ZuOots, lots of GINN's and even a few Grendels and probably a few Efreet, even though he couldn't see them. Cray started to laugh, activating his multi-target system. It didn't take him long to fill up his target display... in truth he hardly bothered to aim at all, he just opened fire and whipsawed his firing arcs back and forth like a man spraying vegetation with a high powered hose. Hundreds of 120mm shells spat from the muzzles of his four gatling cannon, joined by the blue-red hyper impulse beams, anti armor shotgun munitions, radar guided missiles and green beams from his chest weapons. The Merciless shook like a man with palsy, threatening to be pushed backwards by its own recoil. Cray did not allow it... instead stepping forward, forcing himself ahead despite the shuddering protests from the legs of the Merciless... he knew what his machine could take and it was a hell of a lot more than it currently was. His carpet of fire blanked out his targeting sensors with backwash... even his main camera display was showing only fuzzy images and a lot of static. Cray didn't mind nor did he let up on his triggers... he knew the enemy was in a 270 degree arc around him... as long as he kept swiveling his fire back and forth in that arc he was bound to hit something. In reality, he was more than just hitting something, he was causing widespread panic and devastation. Mobile suits came forward only to be hurled back in tatters by the incredible firepower of the Merciless. Nothing could forge a path through the endless river of beams and bullets bleeding forth from the Merciless like an arterial wound that caused death to others rather than its owner. Finally a unit of five Grendels managed to disengage and circle around behind the towering enemy mobile suit. They got to within two hundred meters before Cray at last noticed them... they were in his back arc... he had nothing but CIWS back there for weapons. Many people would have been afraid... would have tried to turn and make a shot at the enemy. But the Merciless was more than just firepower... it was also a juggernaut of invincibility, though at the cost of that firepower and maneuverability. With the flip of a single switch, Cray activated his Citadel array... a lightwave barrier much like the old Umbrella of Artemis, which allowed weapons fire of all sorts neither in nor out. The greenish-white barrier swam into existence around the Merciless scant seconds before the Grendels opened fire. Three of them fired with their arm, shoulder and torso weapons, the other two used the back mounted hyper impulse cannons. The Merciless disappeared in a cloud of munitions and beam blasts. When the smoke faded it was still standing there, now half turned in their direction, completely unharmed.

"Surprise, surprise." Cray joked and blew them away with his gatling cannons and anti armor shotgun. Machine cannon fire walked along his torso, negated by the triple layer phase shift the Merciless sported. Cray ignored the cannon fire as less than beneath his notice... his armor could handle even a few beam blasts... cannon fire was nothing. He took his time in turning... showing them he wasn't worried by their fire. A triplet of missiles impacted squarely on the Merciless's head... if Cray could have made the Merciless spit in contempt, he would have then. "Is that the best you can manage?" he taunted over his speakers. He took another step forward, deliberately stepping on a mine, which exploded harmlessly beneath his foot. "Please... you worms." A LaGowe charged him, head beam sabers ignited, weaving from side to side on its jet thrusters to avoid the fire he wasn't shooting at it. Cray let it get close... and then spun the Merciless to the side. It may not have been all that graceful looking, but it was effective. The beam sabers passed within feet of the Merciless, but missed nonetheless. The LaGowe was unable to stop in time, it crashed directly into the Merciless's outflung leg, halting the smaller mobile suit as if it had hit an unyielding stone wall. With its front legs broken and smashed, the mobile suit settled weakly to the ground. Cray raised the foot it had crashed into and stomped down, grinding the cockpit section into the ground. "This is the Merciless... I think you can see why."

Heartened by the presence of this apparently unstoppable mobile suit that had appeared to aid them, the EA fought on with new vigor, while the ZAFT forces fell back in panicked disarray... what could they hope to do against the giant mobile suit that just laughed at them when they tried to destroy it? They had no champion of their own to face off with the enemy monster. The first defense line tottered on the brink of destruction, and the second was already well into routing. The second to last Nazca class came flaming down at that moment, crashing into Carpentaria harbor and sending up a huge plume of water vapor. High above, Lain Debora whooped yet again... he was fast making a legend out of himself against those ungainly warships. Carpentaria Base was hanging on by the skin of its teeth... unless something incredible happened soon it would fall. Luckily, unknown to all but the most senior commanders on each side, such a incredible thing was underway at that very moment. The twelfth lunar fleet had deployed most of its mobile suits and mobile armors, holding in reserve only those mobile armors loaded with nuclear missiles. More than fifty mobile armors and thirty Strike Crusaders were arrayed against a single Laurasia class and five experimental mobile suits. With the fate of the PLANTS and the battle at Carpentaria unwittingly hanging in the balance, Jeremiah Bornader moved forward to issue his challenge.

"This is Ace-Commander Jeremiah Borander in the Pulsar, addressing the commander of the Earth Alliance fleet... can you hear me?"

"I can hear you... space monster. What do you want?" Captain Icarus, commanding officer of the Wrath, the commanding Agamemnon class carrier, replied. He'd been given command of this fleet as a chance to prove himself to Cervantes... a successful mission would see him promoted to rear admiral at th very least.

Jeremiah winced... he was speaking to a Blue Cosmos fanatic... not exactly the most receptive of audiences. Oh well, nothing for it but to forge on ahead. "I'm warning you... divert from your course... attacking civilian targets is beyond the rules of war. Show some mercy for once... what honor does it do you to massacre helpless noncombatants?"

"Mercy... honor? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with those words. This is a war of genocide... it always has been, it always will be. I'm not massacring helpless noncombatants... I'm purging future foes and denying the enemy previous vital resources." Icarus replied coldly. "And I'm going to start with you, Commander Borander. Do you honestly think you have a chance against my fleet with just one team and a single Laurasia class? You must have been crazy to come here by yourself. I'll be doing you a favor by ending your life. All units... open fire. Target the source of the enemy transmission... I want him turned into space dust."

"I warned you." Jeremiah admonished. He brought up his hands... the Pulsar's hands. With a mere thought he flicked on the primary defensive measure of the Pulsar... the positron shield emitters. A unimaginable amount of firepower converged on the Pulsar... enough to destroy it a hundred times over. But only if it got through the positron shields. Something that all that incredible firepower singularly failed to do. Matter met antimatter and annihilated in a flash of energy so bright Jeremiah was forced to look away. When his vision cleared the Pulsar was still intact and unharmed... shield power levels had barely fluctuated. A slow grin spread across Jeremiah's face... that had been the first combat test of the positron shields. They had performed beyond even his expectations.

"That's impossible..." Captain Icarus complained to no one in particular. His gut had a sinking feeling that just wouldn't go away. "Isn't it?"

Jeremiah gunned the thrusters, pulling an easy five hundred Gees of acceleration as he went from floating idle to cruising speed, transitioning to only a few speeds in between first, so fast the transition periods were barely detectable. The Pulsar was unarmed... but it didn't really need to be... traveling at almost ten thousand kilometers per hour, a kick was just as devasting as a high caliber cannon shot, if not more so. Jeremiah put his foot entirely through the first Strike Crusader, stopping himself dead just beyond it and then cartwheeling sideways, one hand up and blocking incoming fire with its positron shield. The cartwheel ended with a foot through the torso of another mobile suit, while he tore the arm off a third with a twist of his hands. He flipped the Pulsar nimbly through space, spinning like an acrobat to avoid rushed fire from the mobile suits around him. Zero Gee martial arts were something of a hobby of his... a esoteric approach to the ancient fighting styles, but quite useful in his current situation. Fighting in zero G was all about gaining and using leverage... if you had it, you won... if you didn't you lost. With the use of thrusters he could create his own leverage and he used this to his extreme advantage. It was a proven fact that mobile suits did poorly at very close ranges... inside the reach of their arms. They simply weren't designed for punching and kicking or dodging the same. Jeremiah made sure he was never farther away than an arms length from as many mobile suits as he could manage... grabbing them, twisting limbs, throwing them into each other, pushing them, kicking them, punching them and generally tying up more than ten mobile suits with hand to hand martial arts. He disarmed a Crusader and blasted it with it's own weapon before spinning over a badly swung beam sword to kick another mobile suit's head right off it's shoulders. He jammed the barrel of the hyper impulse cannon into the gut of another suit, ruining the weapon and deeply denting the torso armor. He reveresed the weapon and belted the damaged mobile suit with it, finally caving in the cockpit section and causing the weapon to detonate, sending pieces of mobile suit spinning in all directions. The Pulsar was already long gone from that area... one hand gripped the severed arm of yet another mobile suit, ripped off by the Pulsar's unyielding grip as it accelerated away. Floating dead in front of the Pulsar was a Crusader who'd been stupid enough to try and grapple the Pulsar and had come along for the ride... and the three thousand G stop at the end. The pilot of the grappling mobile suit was currently painted on the inside of his otherwise perfectly functioning mobile suit. Jeremiah looted the hyper impulse cannon from the unresisting Crusader and spun around, seeking new targets. The four Elementals were engaged with the mobile armor troops... and coming out far ahead. Regular GINNs were more than a match for mobile armors... Elementals were two generations more advanced than GINNs... it was a slaughter.

The Strike Crusaders were blundering about, searching for him on their short range scanners, unaware that was currently about two hundred kilometers above them. Or below them, depending on how one chose to orient oneself. That was one reason Jeremiah loved space... the freedom of perspective it offered was exhilirating. He dived/climbed back towards them, firing the cannon repeatedly as he went. Of course the weapon overheated within seconds... but not before he'd blown six mobile suits out of his space. He took out two more by handing the overheating weapon off to them as he zipped by faster than their eyes could follow. He flipped around again without slowing and came around for another pass, fingers hooked like claws. As he thundered by this time around he tore the hands off two more Crusaders... two Crusaders that had beam swords in hand. Now that he had in hand. After that the mobile suit battle was pretty much over. Against an unarmed mobile suit like the Pulsar the Crusaders had been slow and ineffective... against one armed with two beam sabers they were nothing more than drifting targets. It was the work of only a few minutes to wipe out the entire thirty mobile suit force. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Discarding the two beam swords, he headed for the fleet. Escort ships tried to blow him away with barrages of missiles... all of which exploded harmlessly against his positron shields. Destroyers fired broadsides of cannon shells at him... it was almost pathetically easy to circle around so quickly the cannon turret mechanisms flamed out trying to track him. He landed on the prow of one of the Agamemenon carriers, directly in front of one of the twin beam cannons. The captial ship weapon oriented on him immediately. Jeremiah kicked the turret mount so hard he disabled its turret mechanism and sent it spinning around in a circle. Laughing jauntily, he strolled across the top of the carrier over to the other cannon, which was turning his way. He jammed his palms over the cannon muzzles and activated his shields. Both barrels fired and immdiately backed up and detonated, taking out a sizable section of the ship's hull. Bored, he cartwheeled back over to the still spinning turret and stopped it with a foot, so it was aimed at its own bridge. After a brief scan of the weapon mount, he located the manual triggers. He rammed the Pulsar's fist through the armored hull plating and gingerly felt around inside the newly ventilated compartment. With the gentle prod of a single finger he triggered the firing mechanisms, sending twin lances of beam energy directly into the ship's bridge, annihilating it in a cloud of burning gasses.

"Launch the nuclear force. Get those missiles on their way!" Icarus ordered frantically.

"But sir... at this range they have less than a 20 percent chance of hitting their targets." one of his aides protested.

"Better than the zero percent chance they have of hitting when that monster mobile suit comes over here and destroys us too!" Icarus screamed. "Fire the damned missiles!"

The Carnot had opened fire on the escort ships, blowing them out of space in a series of firecracker detonations... lured out of positon by the Pulsar, they were easy prey for the highly trained and motivated crew of the Carnot. The sensor officer immediately recognized the launching signals coming from the two remaining Agamemnon's. "Sir, I have multiple mobile armor launches from the Agamemnon class carriers. Heat and size signatures match those of the mobile armors that carried nukes against Boaz." the officer paused and frowned. "Sir, I'm detecting multiple launches... they're firing their missiles from here!"

"Chance of hitting the PLANTS?" the captain asked anxiously.

"Less than twenty percent at best, sir."

"Still too much. Can we intercept?"

"We can't sir... but the Pulsar has shown itself to be fast enough so far..."

"Get me Jeremiah!"

Jeremiah was currently dispatching the second escort Agamemnon, using the Pulsar's amazing speed and turning abilities to circle around the ship in a tornado like maneuver. The CIWS systems and main guns tried to track him but were unable to even begin to turn fast enough to draw a bead on him... panicked fire actually struck and disabled one of the 250 meter destroyers. Jeremiah finished his spinning maneuver with a twirling flyby of the bridge areas, clawing fingers tearing out the armored windows and exposing th bridge crew to hard vacuum far faster than any of them could secure their helmets onto their heads. While the bridge crew was still dying horrible deaths from explosive decompression, Jeremiah soared upwards for twenty kilometers before flipping around and reversing trajectory. Thrusters firing for all they were worth, Jeremiah extended his arms and activated both positron shields. Flying at a speed of more than three kilometers per second, the Pulsar's shields impacted on the top hull of the carrier, denting them inwards and then crushing through the thick armor like it was tin foil. Unable to resist the impregnable positron shields, especially moving at the speed they were, the Agamemnon carrier bent, twisted and buckled right down the middle, breaking in half a few seconds after the Pulsar punched out the bottom armor. His throat comms buzzed, alerting him to an incoming communication. "Jeremiah here."

"Commander Borander! This is the Carnot! Be warned... the enemy fleet has launched their nuclear armed forces... and those forces have fired their missiles. Their chances of hitting the plants are low... less than twenty percent per missile, but that is of course still far too risky. We are unable to intercept the missiles... they are already out of our line of fire."

"Understood, Carnot. I'll take care of it." Jeremiah switched channels. "I'm leaving the fleet for your guys to mop up... the Elementals don't have the speed to catch up to those missiles."

"Yes, sir!" his four teammates replied in unison.. One of them stayed on the line... the man piloting the unaugmented Elemental. "Are you sure you can catch up to them yourself, sir? Those missiles have a pretty good head start."

"We'll find out, won't we?" Jeremiah replied. He flipped the Pulsar around and once again gunned his thrusters. With a flick of a finger muscle he modified the timing of the heat up/cool down cycle of the FPR... boosting power up to one hundred ten percent, all of which he diverted to his thrusters. The Pulsar shrieked through space, its structural frame vibrating wildly under the stress, cooling canes starting to glow white hot. "C'mon... hold together..." Jeremiah muttured.

"Coolant heat levels rising into the yellow zone. Thruster output shows one hundred fourteen percent. Current speed estimated at 5 kilometers per second and rising. ETA to closest missile is two zero seconds." Noah called to his uncle, monitoring the Pulsar's systems through his remote link. While he talked, one eye never left the brainwave data being beamed to him... he was getting a good haul of maneuvering and hand to hand patterns. His brilliant mind hooked on a sudden oft repeated detail... there was a slight hitch... a delay in his uncle's thought patterns. It only showed up whenever he swtiched targets or changed from manuevering to fighting and vice versa. It was almost like the NIC system was applying inertia of a sort to his Uncle's thoughts... trying to focus them in only one direction at a time... the hitches were getting long and longer as the combat wore on... Jeremiah hadn't realized it but there had been a one point four second delay between his verbal response to the Carnot and his physical response. Noah was intruiged... if he was interpreting things right, the NIC system was trying to adapt the pilot to some plan of its own... the NIC system was as close to an artificial nervous system as had ever been created, and it seemed to be learning from its pilot even as it was used as a control system. And not only was it learning, it was trying to impose its "desires" on its pilot. An interesting side effect to the Flaw Noah had not expected... but now seemed obvious. When the NIC learned enough from its pilot it would attempt to take control of his actions, superimposing its learned signals over the impulses created by the pilot's nervous system... what effect this would have on the pilot was unknown, but Noah could guess with reasonable certainty that since the human nervous system was not designed to conduct high intensity electrical signals like the Pulsar used to control itself, the results would be relatively final. Noah had no idea how fast the NIC could learn... but it seemed to be pretty fast, given that it was already starting to interfere with Jeremiah's actions to a noticable extent.

The Pulsar caught up to the first missile and struck out in passing with a single fist, denting the thruster section of the missile inwards, causing the nuke to veer wildly to the side, corckscrewing off into deep space. Now approaching a cluster of missiles twelve strong, it was all Jeremiah could do to lash out with sweeps of his positron shields, knocking the missiles off course or crushing their fragile bodies with pushes from the magnetically contained anti-matter fields. Activating the shields slowed him a bit... at most speeds the shields had no effect on his speed, but at his current velocity the shields were hitting so much interstellar dust and gas that the explosions were actually acting as counter thrust. He was still flying faster than the missiles though and he caught up to the second cluster. Holding his arms out and back, he spun the Pulsar wildly, dragging his positron shields like nets of antimatter behind him, disintegrating missiles left, right, top and bottom as he passed through the cluster. Only one cluster and a pair of leading missiles left... only one thousand kilometers to the first PLANT in the path of the missiles... Mauis Ten. Jeremiah disengaged his shields... he needed every microsecond speed could grant him now. He caught up to the cluster of missiles and reached out with both arms, grabbing the trailing missile and diverting its course slightly and then gave it a boost with his own thrusters, causing the forty ton missile to skip forward at an angle, striking and destroying three other missiles. Pleased with this maneuver, Jeremiah repeated it twice more. Then he only had two missiles remaining... two missiles and three hundred kilometers... fifty seconds at his current speed. The missiles were fifteen seconds ahead of him, both on lucky direct courses for the colony. Jeremiah threw the Pulsar into what might have looked like a headlong dive, pushing both hands out and ahead and moving the feet straight back so he ws flying through space like some superhero of old. He caught up with the missiles with thirty seconds to spare... it was too dangerous to use the shields to destroy them at this range as the missiles were probably already armed by this point and a single impact might cause a detonation that could damage or destory the colony. Punching out their thrusters was also not an option... at this point a random course could lead to them crashing into another PLANT. There was only one course of action... and it was sheer madness. Jeremiah shrugged the Pulsar's shoulders... brilliance... madness... who could tell these days?

"Uncle..." Noah said with geniune worry... he may not have looked upon his uncle with respect, but he still loved him as family... Jeremiah certainly treated him better than his parents did. Noah was also worried for the people in the PLANT... he may have been an egotistical, manipulative little bastard, but he was as much a Coordinator as the next... he remembered Junius Seven as well.

"I got this, don't worry!" Jeremiah called back. "This'll be one for the history books... good or ill." he muttured after shutting down the comm line. He caught up with the two missiles, which were flying almost parallel, about twent feet apart. Stretching his arms wide, he spun the Pulsar like a top so its thrusters were facing towards the PLANT, flying backwards through space. In the instant before the GRS activated and redirected his momentum, his arms clamped down the forward sections of the missiles... as gently as he could manage while still maintaining a strong grip. To his immense relief, the missiles did not detonate. Then the GRS kicked in and the Pulsar screamed in metal agony as the GRS struggled to cope with the stresses of redirecting a seventy five ton object traveling at six point seven kilometers per second into a trajectory exactly one hundred eighty degrees opposite its former heading. Feedback raced up and down the NIC wires, causing them to spark and glow in the GRS gel. the sensation was somewhat like having his skin slowly ripped off as a whole single piece. He could feel the gel compressing around him... could hear the structure creaking and settling... could smell the gel starting to cook and crisp around some of the NIC wires... could taste the sensation of burning flesh on his tongue as one of the comm wires started to conduct heat from the ceiling. He didn't dare look at his cooling system indications as he twitched the Pulsar up to one hundred thirty percent power.

Alarm sirens and warning lights popped up on Noah's computer faster than he could click them off. Coolant overheating... structure fractures... thruster overtemp warnings... melting paint and armor... imminent GRS failure... FPR systems starting to meltdown... he just kept clicking override, not daring to cut in the safety systems which would shut down the mobile suit... and allow the two missiles to strike the helpless colony. either the mobile suit would hold steady through stresses at or beyond its design tolerances... and the PLANT would be saved... or else it would fail and detonate in an explosion that would utterly drown out the paltry nuclear missiles. To the people who happened to be in positions to watch from the inside of Maius Ten, it was an almost surreal sight. A single overwhelmingly bright blue drive flame twinkled in the lower east sky, framed on either side by the orange warheads of two nuclear missiles, visible through simple binoculars. The Mobile Suit holding on to the missiles and attempting to overcome their inertia was barely visiblee around its drive flame... all most people could see was twelve spiky projections that were glowing such a bright white color it was impossible to look at them without causing damage to the eyes. A hundred thousand people felt their breath catch in their throats as the mobile suit was force inexorably towards the colony by the twin thrusters of the missiles... each putting out more than eight hundred thousand pounds of thrust. It seemed impossible that a single mobile suit could output the kind of thrust needed to counteract the momentum of the missiles. The Pulsar's thrust backwash struck the outer surface of the tens of meters thick armored transparent alloy that formed the giant window panes that framed each PLANT. The Pulsar was slowly winning out against the missiles... his backward speed was down to only thirty meters per second. Thruster backwash melting runnels in the alloy, the Pulsar's feet came down to rest on the alloy window. The missiles were now held only eight meters from their impact points and were inching downwards for all they were worth. The missiles seemed almost alive... eager to reach their targets and explode, sending the helpless civilians inside flailing out into the cold embrace of space.

"I... Don't... Think... So!" Jeremiah gritted out. FPR power was up at one hundred fifty percent... the legs of the Pulsar were starting to bend backwards. Reactor power continued to rise as he mentally held down the override button, despite the searing agony of feedback he felt... he couldn't let another Junius Seven happen... he would rather die the most hideous and painful of deaths first. At one hundred sixty four percent power, the Pulsar finally overwhelmed the forward momentum of the missiles. At one seventy percent power... with so many alarms blaring on his computer that he could no longer read any of the data he was receiving... Noah observed the Pulsar actually start pushing the missiles back, centimeters at a time at first, but quickly speeding up. Once he'd pushed the missiles a good kilometer from the PLANT, Jeremiah flipped the Pulsar around again, spinning the missiles around as he did so, so that now all three of them were pointed back they way they came. He slowly eased back on reactor power... wincing as the Gel continued to heat up around him as the Pulsar's cooling systems struggled mightily to preserve the integrity of the reactor plant. "I believe these are yours?" Jeremiah contacted the Alliance commander through gritted teeth. "I've always believed somewhat in a catch and release policy."

"How did you... what did you..." Icarus sputtered before his sharp mind figured out what he was seeing on the sensor screen. The impossible enemy mobile suit... what was it called again... was coming back towards the ragged remains of his fleet, who were barely holding off the four other ZAFT mobile suits. And it was coming back fast... sensors showed speeds of seven kilometers per second and increasing steadily. It would be on top of them in minutes. It's speed made no sense... it hadn't moved that fast before, even when going at what had to be all out thrust. But then what the pilot had said clicked... he was riding the missiles back. He'd somehow managed to turn them completely around and now he was combining his thrust with theirs, using them like afterburners. "ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP!" Icarus cried, wasting no time in heading for the exit himself... no sense in dying for a lost cause... he was ashamed that he'd failed this mission... his career in Blue Cosmos was over. But there were other powerful figures looking for supporters out there. Some people he knew had whispered of a man called Dullindal...

Thirty kilometers from the remains of the EA fleet, Jeremiah released his grip on his captured missiles and slowly decelerated. He'd already ordered his team out of the line of effect almost immediately after he'd turned the missiles... no sense in nuking his own side. It was getting warmer than a hotspring inside his gel cockpit... the Pulsar's cooling systems were still laboring overtime due to his abuse of the FPR. But he did not head back to the Carnot just yet... this deserved to be watched. Both missiles flew unerringly, as if aimed by the hand of some higher power, directly into the Wrath, detonating in twin explosions of purple white light that grew into globes of destruction that utterly wiped any trace of the twelfth lunar fleet from existence. Jeremiah breathed a huge sigh of relief... once again, the PLANTS had been saved by the thinnest of margins.

Down on Earth, Asmdoeus slammed his fist into his chair arm in frustrated anger. He'd just finished receiving the shamefaced report from Captain Icarus. The Admirals and Generals looked over at him apprehensively. "All forces... withdraw at once. The battle has been lost. I repeat... all forces, withdraw at once." Asmodeus ordered harshly.

"Withdraw? But we have them on their last legs! The infantry and armor forces are just starting to land! We can still wipe them out!" a general protested. Asmodeus skewered him with his icy gaze and the man fell back a step.

"We could do that. We could sit here and let ourselves be killed by the Archangel... the Kusanagi... and the ZAFT submarine forces as well. Fat lot of good that would do the ground forces... cut off without central command and a way home, where would that leave them? At the mercy of the soon to be reinforced enemy, that's where. Face it, gentlemen... with the loss of the twelfth lunar fleet, this war will continue... and this battle is lost. To continue would be folly... we'd be throwing our forces into a meat grinder... we're going to need them to defend against ZAFT's counterblow."

"Counterblow?" an Admiral asked.

"ZAFT defeated the twelfth lunar fleet with five mobile suits... four new mass production models and a fifth suit unlike any that has ever been seen. I'm still downloading the data on it... but from the report it sounds like the machine physically caught two nuclear missiles and forced them to reverse course. Any mobile suit of a power even approaching that level is an imminent threat to all of Earth. We need to pull back, reorganize and reconfirm our intelligence before we make any more decision that might lead us into another Little Bighorn. Give the orders and start moving the fleets back... now is the time to live again to fight another day." Asmodeus looked out at the fleet engagement going on outside... the mobile suits he'd pulled from the third wave were just barely managing to keep the Kusanagi and Archangel at bay... largely due to the intervetion of Kira Yamato, who decimated any forces who dared approach within weapons range of the Liberty. The Skygrasper had also proved to be a formidable foe... through some of the most impressive evasive maneuvers Asmodeus had ever seen, the pilot had managed to trick three of its pursuers into shooting their own comrades down... it must be Major Jones in the cockpit, with that record... and then Yamato had finished off the rest with almost casual ease. As Asmodeus watched the Liberty suddenly pulled up short and then rocketed off towards Carpentaria.

"Sir... the Merciless refuses to respond to the withdraw order." a sailor cried. Asmodeus sighed... he suddenly knew where the Liberty was headed... always the knight in shining armor, Kira was... couldn't stand the slaughter of innocents... which, knowing Cray, was exactly what he was up to.

Cray had found several refugee bunkers, places where the support staff and noncombatant families of the Carpentaria troops had gone to hide when the battle began. He'd put down his arm weapons and used the Merciless's hands to scoop off the meter thick metal roofs of the bunkers to reveal the screaming people within, like crowds of wriggling pink sardines. Long range cannon fire bounced harmlessly off the Merciless's back and shoulders as he bent down and swept his hands through the press of civilians, crushing dozens and picking up five people per hand. "Whee!" Cray cried joyfully, flinging them high into the air in an arcing throw. He'd brought the hands back for the next group before the first Coordinators started to fall like obscene raindrops around the Merciless. The next group he tossed straight up, so that they splattered against the head, torso and shoulders of the Merciless like rotten fruit, giving the mobile suit a red polka dotted appearance. He worked the Merciless's arms tirelessly, crumpling mobs of people up into flesh balls and hurling them at any ZAFT vehicles that approached within hail mary distance. He nailed one GINN right on the photo-eye with a ball of fourteen middleschoolers, all mostly crushed together into a sort of potpourri, but still twitching and screaming... until they hit anyway. From the way the GINN staggered back, one would have thought it had actually sustained serious damage, rather than just a new layer of filth on its paint. A message light flashed insistently on his comm board, but he ignored it... he was having too much fun to be interrupted.

"And now for my next trick... a break dancing mobile suit!" Cray crowed happily, moving over to the next full bunker. He didn't bother to open the roof on this one... instead he just leaped on it, feet first, crushing it in like a man stamping down on a soda can. The Merciless was not designed to break dance. Or dance period. Cray mostly just threw it into convulsions, dropping onto the ground, rolling back and forth, kicking out with arms and legs in random patterns, looking for all the world like a giant man being simultaneously electocuted and burned alive. He rubbed off a lot of the human smears on his shoulders from the people-rain, but gained many, many more from crushing hundreds of refugees beneath his torso and legs as he lolled about, immune to the fire and smoke and falling debris. When he finally brought the Merciless back to it's feet, it's legs were solid red from the knees on down, and more red than paint scheme of black, purple and silver from knees to hips. The palms of the hands were also dyed a deep crimson from making snowballs... err... peopleballs. It would take some serious cleaning when he got back... but blood didn;t cut down on mechanical effectiveness in such comparatively small quantities.

"Aww... I think I broke them..." Cray gestured at the ruined bunkers... formerly full of people, now only ravaged tombs. "Will the rest of you play with me instead? Oops... theres one more group!" Cray swept his hands down and came up with a group of twelve high school girls... it was too bad... some of them were pretty cute. He trapped them between the Merciless's cupped hands and looked out at the dozens of incoming ZAFT mobile suits. "Uh uh uh! I've got hostages!" he called out as loud as his speakers could manage.

"How can we negotiate in good faith with you, seeing as we have the atrocities you've committed?" a strained and tense voice answered from the closest mobile suit, the GINN he'd plastered with a peopleball.

"Aww... come on... it wasn't that bad was it?" Cray mocked him. "I mean, I only just crumpled up little kids and girlies and threw them at you. Or rolled around and crushed them. Or flung them up to fall to their deaths. It was funny... wasn't it? I certainly got a hoot out of it."

"You make me sick... you Natural monster!" the GINN pilot retorted, drawing a sword and stepping forward.

"Ah ah... not unless you want a second peopleball to the face." Cray cooed, slightly tightening the Merciless's hands, to a chorus of panicked screams from the girls in his grip. The GINN froze in midstride.

"What do you want, you bastar..." Cray cut off the Coordinator by blowing the GINN apart with his shoulder gatling cannons.

"That's what I wanted... I wanted you to get just a little closer so I could be sure to hit you with all four guns." Cray replied. A sudden new threat appeared on his radar screen... it was moving too fast to be any ZAFT mobile suit he knew of. He called up a visual display. "The Liberty... how delicious. Sorry girls... I need one more peopleball. And guess who the lucky canidates are?" Cray cut off their protests by grinding the Merciless's palms together... flesh goo and bright blood squirted from between the giant fingers as he worked the mass of bodies into a cohesive shape, roughly like that of a ball. "Let's see how the goody goody I don't kill people Coordinator handles this curveball... wonder if he'll faint like the pansy he is?" Cray wondered out loud before winding up... taking careful aim... and hurling the ball at the approaching Liberty with all the strength the Merciless could muster.


	65. Liberty Vs Merciless

Kira's threat board lit up... there was a good sized projectile headed straight at him as he poured on the thrust to reach the Merciless, which was looming ahead like some ancient totem of destruction. His computer system couldn't quite figure out what the projectile was... it wasn't hot like a beam blast, but it wasn't metallic like a cannon shell... it wasn't moving fast enough to be a railgun shot... in fact, it really wasn't moving very fast at all... no faster than a touch over a hundred kilometers per hour. It wasn't until he mangaged to lock his camera's onto the projectile and zoom in that Kira recognized it for what it was... a compressed ball of human flesh and bone... a horror of mangled limbs and pressed torsos and bulging faces... the ball looked to have been made from at least a dozen people. He couldn't help himself... he'd seen some pretty terrible things... during the last war and especially during this one... but this completely turned his stomach. He was glad he hadn't eaten very much before deploying... as things were he was dry heaving and gasping for breath as he twisted the Liberty out of the way of the formerly living projectile. recovering with more than a couple deep breaths, Kira's eyes blazed as he stared through his displays at the Merciless, now only a few kilometers away. Cray was just bending down to retrieve his discarded weapons.

Kira was a very even tempered individual... everyone who'd ever met him had told him so at one point or another. Some called it naivete... some called it good heartedness or a sympathetic nature. Kira just called it being the way he was... he saw no reason to go around getting upset over every little thing... especially the things he couldn't control. When growing up he'd always been the quiet sort... never really got into fights at school, never really got picked on. He wasn't an outcast, he had his friends, many of whom were quite popular... like Athrun or Sai or Flay. It took a lot to get Kira worked up. The older he got the more it seemed to take... maybe because he was becoming innured to terrible things happening to himself and the people around him. When he'd just started flying the Strike his emotions had been all over the place... that had changed once he descended to the desert, except for when Tolle died. Things had heated him back up during the fights up in space after the Mendel colony... after that he'd mellowed out again. It had taken the scene in the desert with his parents and Alkire killing the soldiers to really set him off. Of course fighting Frost at Vanai's mansion had gotten a rise out of him... but that had been fear and adrenaline and shock, not just anger. In the desert he'd just been pissed off. In the Doc's lab it had been more like Frost in the forest... he wasn't just mad, he was scared and worried and many other things... now... now he was just plain raging... no worry... no fear... just plain fucking mad. He was so mad he was currently beyond words... beyond vocal sounds of any sort.

He didn't shout any challenges or make any threats... he didn't even ask Cray to withdraw peacefully. No... not this enemy... this was one enemy that really, totally deserved justice of the most permanent sort... just like Rau Le Cruesete. Kira drew a beam saber in each hand as the Liberty blitzed towards the slowly rising Merciless like a star shot from the bow of a god. Cray had just brought the Merciless fully upright and was settling his posture to brace his weapons... he was annoyed at how Kira had dodged the peopleball... what was the point of making the damned things unless they hit stuff and went "plop" all over the place? "Wait-a-minute... where did he go?" Cray muttured, his eyes searching his empty display screens. A sudden bad premonition fell over him. "Ahh... shit."

The premonition turned out to be correct. The Liberty was hovering right behind him... how it had gotten there so fast and without him noticing Cray could not figure... but it had. As the Merciless slowly turned to face the Liberty, it became fully obvious to all the ZAFT machines watching in a sort of stunned awe just how massive the Merciless really was. The Liberty was based strongly off the Freedom, which was not by any means a small mobile suit, as mobile suits went... and the Liberty was several meters bigger all around than the Freedom. But it's feet were still a good ten meters off the ground and it was at head height with the Merciless. An image of a slim gymnast standing in close proximity to a hulking world class weight lifter came to mind for many. The Liberty was extremely well armed... it had just demonstarted its ability to continuous dominate many, many times its number of mobile suits. But again, compared to the giant Merciless it was a bit like bringing a pair of BB guns to a shooting war. But for all its size and obvious firepower and even accounting for the blood stained legs and hands... it was the Liberty that made every heart quail slightly with fear. The Merciless was an atavistic throwback, a primitive avatar of death and destruction. The Liberty was ultramodern and refined, pleasing to the eye and possessed of almost human poise as it floated in midair, HiMAT wings spread wide, one foot dangling slightly behind the other, arms at its sides, twin fiery red beam sabers projecting off to either side; the entire machine was glowing with a faint golden light, like an angel descending from heaven. But there was just something about the Liberty... something not quite visible to the eye... something that didn't show up on any sensor screens or data readouts... but was definitely there. Even Cray could feel it... a ball of cold dread sifting around in his stomach that hadn't been there in a very long time. The ZAFT soldiers found themselves holding their breath, wincing in anticipation as a feeling of a calm before a storm spread out to cover the area. For almost five seconds the two mobile suits... the looming, dark Merciless and the shining, bright Liberty... were face to face, unmoving. Cray's nerve broke first.

"Fuck this shit... I ain't scared of you! I've beaten you before... you're not so hot, KIRA YAMATO!" Cray snarled over the speakers. He swung his target icons over the Liberty and growled as they shied away like frightened mice... no matter how steady his hands were the damn computer icon remained jittery. "Fine... he's like sixty feet away... who needs to aim?" Cray asked himself. He swung up the Merciless's right arm... now hefting the dual 350mm hyper impulse beam cannon. "Suck this dick, bitch." Cray smirked and pulled the trigger. Twin blasts of energy comparable to that of a warship's main guns exploded from the muzzles of the weapon and raced towards the Liberty faster than the eye could follow. Or rather, it shot towards the space where the Liberty had been, because the moment Kira saw the pre-firing energy build up inside the gun barrels, he had jammed his foot down on the thruster pedal and flipped the Liberty up and over the line of fire. Maintaining his pose exactly, he gently touched his foot down on the still smoking barrels of the twin hyper impulse beam cannons... the Liberty was actually held up by its thrusters, not the Merciless's arm, but the illusion was quite convincing. The wasted shot roared off into the distance, clipping the top of an empty ZAFT hanger on the base proper, demolishing the building entirely.

"Equating your previous experience fighting me in unarmed combat outside of a mobile suit will not serve you well against me now." Kira said calmly, his voice bulging with constrained anger. He twitched his controls and both beam swords sliced down in a converging X, bisecting the twin barrels of the gun in two different places, utterly ruining the weapon. Cursing, Cray discarded it to the side before its capacitors could discharge and possibly damage his arm.

"You little bastard... I'll get you for that!" Cray promised, his eyes swelling with temper and his vision going just a little red as his artificial heart slipped into high speed as it sensed his emotional state. He tapped the triggers for the six torso mounted 57mm beam cannons. Six identical beams of green heat energy speared out, momentarily connecting the Merciless and the Liberty.

Kira sideslipped the top two beams by hunching his shoulders down a few feet and dodged the two lower beams by turning slightly to the side, narrowing his profile. He didn't bother to dodge the middle beams... with twin flicks of his swords he neatly intercepted the beam energy and deflected it away in twin splatters of beam stuff. "More to the case in point... last time we fought, it was on your terms and in your modus operandi. Now the tables have turned... we're on my terms and in my speciality when we're in mobile suits." Kira informed his enemy, still holding himself back.

"You're just a Coordinator..." Cray spat. "I can beat any Coordinator ever born."

"You're wrong. I'm not just a Coordinator. I'm just a human being... like any other born on Earth or in the PLANTS. I'm something you cannot understand, even though you once were one... that's the tragic thing about you and Frost and Ashino... the only thing I pity you for." Kira replied.

"Pity me!? PITY ME!?" Cray shouted, insulted beyond words. "WHO asked YOU to PITY ME!? WHAT THE FUCK DO I CARE FOR YOUR PITY!?"

"You don't... but the thing about pity is it is almost never asked for... even when it is strongly... maybe unconsciously... desired."

"You're fucking crazier than Frost in a bedlam moment if you think I have any subconscious desire for your pity!" Cray laughed... it was ludicrous... wasn't it? I mean... so what if he didn't have any memory... so what if he was an unwitting tool... what did he care? Why should he care? It was his lot in life... he couldn't change it. He didn't want to change it. Because it couldn't be changed anyway, no matter what he did. That was right... wasn't it? Cray found his laughter dying away... something wasn't right... those words were getting to him. He tried to rationalize around them... but with no memory it was hard to do properly... maybe he had changed his life... and then got memwiped again.. he'd never know... he'd never be able to tell. His head started to ache abomidably... and the damned flashing message light didn't help at all. The thing had been on for several minutes now... ever since the fighting in the defense lines behind him had started dying down for some reason. He shook his head back and forth, though that did nothing to clear his thoughts. There was only one option. To go totally fucking off the wall. "AHHHHHHHGG!" Cray screamed, throwing his head back, his eyes bloodshot and staring wildly at the cockpit ceiling.

Kira was unprepared for the counterattack. Well, maybe unprepared wasn't the right choice of words... he'd been expecting a counterblow of some sort, even though he knew his words had hit home somewhere in the coldest, darkest recessess of Cray's psyche. He just hadn't expected it to come so fast... he barely had time to notice the telltale shifting of weight on the Merciless's legs. He was just starting to pull up and away when the Merciless grabbed him with its right arm, grasping the Liberty's left ankle securely. Cray chuckled victoriously. He wasted no time in whipping the smaller mobile suit around and around through the air like a pro wrestler of unimaginable strength, before finally slamming the Liberty into the ground right in front of the Merciless... indenting the ground around the Orb built mobile suit. Before the stunned Kira could react, Cray had dropped one foot of the Merciless squarely upon the lower torso of the Liberty, pinning it in place. "You ain't talking so smarty mouth now, are ya, you little Coordinator bastard!? What now? What NOW, eh? Who's tough now, Mr. I Don't Kill People!?"

"Cray... you and especially Frost should bear this in mind. You're not people any more... by your own admission." Kira retorted, his vision unblurring as his head recovered from the whipcracking he'd received when the Merciless slammed him into the ground... a few structure frames had bent, but otherwise the Liberty was unharmed... a testament to Orb engineering and the designs of Erica Simmons. "I don't kill people. You're not a person. That means I can kill you just fine."

"Wait... what?" Cray asked, caught off guard. One of the Liberty's arms speared upwards, towards where the groin on a human would be. The beam sword sank in more than a meter before Cray threw the Merciless backwards in an awkward stagger... no sirens alarmed, but he was lucky he'd moved as fast as he did... a few meters more and he'd have had a holed reactor. "Tricksy bastard. You think you're all that... don't you? I got news for you, Keee-rya Yaamaatooeee... you ain't the big boy on the block no more. You may be hot shit... but I'm fucking molten... and Frost is damned near plasmatic. You're kidding yourself if you think you're getting out of this alive."

"We'll see, won't we?" Kira replied casually, picking the Liberty up to its feet slowly and deliberately.

"Yeah... we'll see all right... and after I see you off to hell, I'll go see your girl... Lacus Clyne. I know... Frost called dibs... but he's unconscious right now... what he don't know won't hurt me. I can promise you... I won't leave her in any position to complain to him about it." Cray licked his lips loudly. "And after I see to her, I'll move on to your sister... that fiery bitch Yula Attha. Mr. Zala's not in shape to be the man around the house right now... he may have beaten Ashino but he wouldn't have beaten me. And after I'm done using her up... I'll keep going down the line until I've done em all... every last little wench you formerly knew."

"You really should know something about me. You should have read it in the reports I'm sure your superiors have on me. Threaten me and I'll fight you back. Threaten the people I care about and I'll take you down. Threaten Lacus Clyne or my sister... and I'll go to hell... but only to watch you twist in the fires of my own creation." Kira let himself go... for real, for the first time since Jachin Due and Rau Le Creusete. The Liberty covered the distance to the Merciless in an eyeblink, one sword sweeping up, one sweeping down... to hack off the Merciless's right arm at the shoulder. The huge sparking limb almost seemed to jump out of it's socket, trailing clots of machine oil like polluted blood. Cray screamed just as if it had been his own arm that was severed, not the Merciless's. Kira spun the Liberty around like a ballet dancer, inside the reach of the Merciless, so close to his enemy he actually brushed against him. The left arm of the Merciless started to come down like part of the sky falling, but Kira jumped up, flipping the Liberty into a cartwheel in midair and slammed both thruster driven legs into the arm, knocking it back with a screech of protesting servomotors. Still rising on his upwards jumping momentum, the Liberty's arms came level with the upper chest of the Merciless. Kira did not hesitate... he'd meant what he'd said, with every fibre of his being. Both beam sabers stabbed forward, piercing the Merciless through and through in the rough section of torso he guessed the cockpit was. If the Merciless had been a normal sized mobile suit, he would have guessed right.

As things were, the beams stabbed through the overhead portion of the cockpit to either side of Cray's head... one beam actually close enough to singe his shoulder through his flight suit. Upward momentum dragged the blades away from him, dripping molten pieces of Merciless onto his arms and chest... the plastic-metal mixture quickly charred through his flight suit and went to work on the flesh underneath. Shrieking and twisting in horrible agony, Cray convulsed in his restraining straps, jerking at the controls and tossing the Merciless backwards in a long stumble that ended up with it flat on its back. Smoke, sparks and superheated lubricants flowed freely out of the twin beam saber wounds... fires started and flames puffed out of the twin punctures in stuttering explosions as internal ciruits cooked off and detonated. Kira completed the Liberty's cartwheel and landed lightly on bent legs. "I'm sorry I had to do that... but you gave me no choice." Kira said apologetically. "May your soul find peace in the afterlife somewhere..."

"Don't need no... fucking... afterlife." Cray croaked back through seared lips and parched throat. Kira started... he'd been sure he'd killed Cray with that attack... he'd hit right at the center of the mobile suit... where the cockpit always was... he should have skewered the BCPU with at least one sword... and one sword was all it would have taken. After many months and many more battles of shooting to avoid the cockpit, Kira had gotten very good at figuring out where that cockpit was... he couldn't believe he'd missed hitting it the one time he was trying to. "Peace... huh... who needs it? When... I... DIE... I WANT... FIRE. AT WILL" Cray gasped a smile through the pain. The Merciless's torso cranked up from the ground like some smoking revenant, its left arm and 400mm anti armor shotgun coming up as well to aim at the surprised Liberty, standing not more than fifty feet away. Cray was still smiling as he jammed down all the triggers his twitching fingers could find.

The anti armor shotgun shells... practically just large metal balls filled with shaped armor piercing explosive charges, didn't have time to spread out before striking the Liberty full in the chest, dumping more than twenty four hundred pounds of armor-piercing explosive ordnance onto the torso of the flat footed mobile suit. Phase shift armor rendered the armor piercing warheads ineffective... but there was no counteracting the force of impact. The Liberty was physically picked up and thrown backwards like a rag doll, Kira rattling around inside like a piece of gravel in a kicked can... if it hadn't been for his restraining straps he would have probably snapped his neck... as it was, the bruising was incredible... and he knew it would only get worse later. The Liberty landed half on its back and half on its head and skidded for more than twenty meters before its legs came down and helped stop the slide. Kira was just starting to get hold of his controls again when he was bonuced around his cockpit by impacts again... hundreds and hundreds of impacts. Cray's fingers had also found the triggers for his four shoulder mounted 120mm gatling cannons and he was holding them down without a care in the world for Phase Shift immunity to projectiles or his rapidly decreasing ammo counters. Each gatling cannon pumped out more than six hundred projectiles a minute, each shell was almost five inches in diameter (4.72 inches)... for a total of twenty four hundred high explosive shells per minute... each powerful enough to utterly destroy a main battle tank in one hit. The grounded Liberty was not a tough target to orient on... the gatlings were not so much aimed as just pointed and swept back and forth... with their high fire rates more than eighty percent of the munitions landed on target.

Kira could literally not regain control of his mobile suit... every time he grabbed hold of a control with one hand he lost his grip on another due to the constant pounding... none of the shells were harming the mobile suit much at all... though the continual shocks were messing with his computers a little. But the main problem was the force of the impacts... each one was like a padded sledgehammer blow directly to some part of his body... more often, several dozen points all at once. The shocks weren't enough to break bones by themselves, but he was bound to get a bad bounce sooner or later if he kept getting thrown around by the impacts. He was thankful for his restraining straps even as he swore at how they cut into his shoulders and chest like steel bands... without them he'd have been battered into unconsciousness at the very least against the control surfaces of his own cockpit long ago. Kira didn't know how long he fought to regain his mobile suit's balance... it felt like hours. In reality it was only two minutes and twenty six seconds... the exact amount of time it took the Merciless to exhaust its ammo hoppers. Cray kept the triggers held down for several seconds after the guns stopped firing, a maniac grin on his face. "Hahahahaha... who's laughing now?" Cray taunted.

"You are." Kira grabbed hold of his controls and sat the Liberty upright, mimicking the Merciless. "Why... I don't know." He aimed the triple 300mm sniper cannon at the Merciless. "Laugh at this." Kira pulled the trigger harder than he meant to... his finger twinged.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Cray continued to laugh, dropping his anti armor shot gun and reaching for his severed right arm in one motion. He brought the severed limb up like a shield... it took all three blasts and disintegrated into a thousand fragments. The blast wave knocked the Merciless flat on its back again. "HAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm still laughing!" Cray called triumphantly.

"I'm still shooting... imagine that." Kira replied. Cray's mouth remained open but no laughter came out. The Liberty hovered overhead... all weapons out. Sniper cannon... dual 57mm beam cannon, hyper impulse cannons... railguns... gugnir cannon. Everything. Kira hit the triggers for everything. Cray's left arm had been scrabbling at the dirt for several seconds by this point... finally coming up with the anti-armor shotgun. Just as Kira pulled his triggers, Cray re-aimed his weapons and fired all of his remaining weapons as well. From a distance of perhaps fifty meters the two mobile suits traded volleys of firepower equivalent to that of possessed by entire teams of ZAFT suits. Speaking of ZAFT, now that the EA had fled for unknown reasons, they were diverting all their attention to this final threat... or pair of threats, depending on which Coordinator you asked... in their midst.

The Merciless shrugged off the railgun rounds like spitballs... the dual 57mm beams were likewise deflected in a shower of sparks... penetrating the first two layers of phase shift but reflecting from the final third layer. The two hyper impulse shots cleanly pierced the Merciless at the left elbow and right knee... amputating both limbs at those joints, but not before the weapons on both had fired. The three sniper cannon rounds gouged huge craters in the Merciless's torso armor...actually exposing the cockpit and one nuclear reactor, though not damaging them. The EMP wave from the gugnir washed through the Merciless like an invisible tide... dozens of secondary systems shorted out at once, but due to the extensive upgrades all the BCPU gundams had receievd in their EMP shielding after Orb, the Merciless did not falter or die from the special weapon. Left with mostly munitions based weaponry, the Merciless's counterattack had less devastating outward effects upon the Liberty. The anti-armor shells hit dead center again, tossing the Liberty back through the air like a limp noodle... Kira's head was ringing and he could taste blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. The five beam cannons still working on the Merciless's chest mostly missed wide... by the time they reached the target point the Liberty had already been struck by the shotgun, though one beam did burn a neat hole through the Liberty's left foot. Of the one hundred sixty radar guided missiles launched from the Merciless's shin and thigh missile launchers, more than one hundred forty were struck by the Gugnir wave and had their tracking systems disabled... they went straight up and came back down in long ballistic trajectories... causing widespread devastation in the mostly empty harbor areas of Carpentaria. The remainder homed in on the Liberty and battered it into the ground like punches thrown by giants. Kira whiplashed back and forth so violently he actually snapped a restraining strap and whammed his arm hard into his control chair... if he hadn't been wearing a protective suit he probably would have broken the arm... it went completely numb for the moment... he was glad because he was sure he wasn't going to like how it was going to feel later. Kira slowly started to pick the Liberty back up to its feet... as long as his foe kept using munitions, he'd keep coming back for more... he couldn't be stopped by explosives.

Battered... beaten... bruised and even a bit bloody... but still standing, Kira slowly stepped the Liberty over to stand next to the fallen Merciless. The giant mobile suit lay like the half empty shell of some colossal knight after losing a fight with an even greater dragon... arms and legs ripped off, chest torn open, fluids all over the place, heavy scorching, surrounded by the shattered remains of its weapons... the Merciless currently had more in common with a junkyard than any sort of terrible mobile suit. Kira looked down at his enemy through fuzzy cameras... sometime during the battery he'd lost a few external sensors... a Gundam was phase shift armored, but that didn't protect camera lenses or other sensor mounts of that nature... he had lots of backups, but he'd also taken a hell of a lot of shots too. And the constant beating had likely shaken a few wires loose in his computer system as well... given that some of his teeth still felt loose Kira was surprised his mechanical systems were working as well as they were. Cray was just barely visible in the half shadowed recesses of the Merciless's cockpit, revealed by one of the three sniper cannon shots. Cray was singed, charred and still smoking visibly in some spots, but was relatively still and quiet. Kira could hear him breathing over his external speakers... he could almost imagine he could see the face of the BCPU 5, though the camera resolution was a bit fuzzy for that to be really true... he was just superimposing his memories onto the head of the figure in the black, silver and purple flight suit. With a unhurried and quite deliberate twitch of a control, Kira pointed his dual 57mm beam rifle directly at Cray. The instinctual level of Kira's mind noted that ZAFT forces were slowly approaching from all sides... more than thirty his sensors could detect, plus at least five anomalous dust clouds that likely represented Efreet. He ignored them for the moment... they currently had their weapons powered down or pointed away and had yet to make any attempts at communication, hostile or otherwise.

"You... think you're... so cool." Cray cackled wearily. His cockpit was a mess and so was he... his weapon systems were not responding and the Merciless quite literally only had one leg to stand on. The Merciless still had flight capability... but maneuverability and speed were going to be negligible... there would be no way for him to flee unaided. And since his own forces were either already flown away or boarding ships that were about to leave, and on the other side of an entire ZAFT defense line... he was out of luck when it came to backup. And if the messed up state of the Merciless wasn't bad enough, he'd sustained some serious third degree burns on his shoulders, chest and upper legs... nothing life threatening, but they were nothing to laugh about either...a normal human would have probably died from shock already. A blob of molten metal and plastic had congealed on his restraining harness release clip... he wasn't able to operate it and he just couldn't seem to muster up the energy to just break out... what was the point when even if he ejected he'd still get shot by Yamato... better to die with his best buddy, the Merciless. His hand caressed the self detonate switch... if he was gonna go, it wouldn't be alone. The self destruct sequence on the Merciless was easily enough to reduce everything within three hundred meters to ashes in an instant. He kept his hand on the control, but didn't operate it just yet... he had a feeling Yamato would feel obliged to answer back... he'd have time to choose his moment.

"No... I'm the opposite of cool. I hate this... every last bit of it. War is not cool... killing is not cool... genocide is very not cool. But as much as I loathe this war and every reason it is being fought for... I loathe just standing by and watching it happen even more. I don't want to do the things I'm doing... but doing them is preferrable to me than standing on the sidelines and letting ZAFT and the Earth Alliance annihilate each other... as a Citizen of the Earth, I cannot allow it... as a Coordinator I cannot allow it... as a human being, I cannot allow it." Kira replied, almost equally wearily. He dropped out of SEED mode and only then noticed just how much the relatively brief fight had taken out of him.

"You make such... pretty speeches. But in the end... you're still going to be the one pulling that trigger." Cray replied with a smirk. "You say you don't want this war to continue... I say... if that's really how you feel... why are you... interefering and prolonging it? This war would... have been over hours... ago... if your damn ships... hadn't shot down... half the fucking nukes."

"You expect to hurt me with your words?" Kira asked, not surprised. "People have been trying to twist my words, actions and reasons around to mean what they want them to mean ever since I first got trapped in the cockpit of the Strike on Heliopolis. It was first really bad at Artemis, but it was prevalent throughout the last war... always there were those who called me traitor or coward or fool or puppet... or even murderer. I've grown so used to defending my actions in the eyes of people who have no idea what sort of choices I've had to make that I've almost got a few arguements down by rote. Personally... that upsets and bothers me greatly. To think I would grow so used to explaining why I acted that I actually planned ahead to think of what I would say if I did act, before I even acted? It's so stupid and pointless. Actions are the results of choices... choices are the results of actions... its a never ending cycle that no one can ever escape from... I'm acting now, to kill you, because of a choice Lacus and I and everyone we know and trust jointly made... that you and those like you present a real and deadly threat to the safety of the peace of the world. Maybe we aren't legal judges... we have no actual right to judge your actions, in the legal sense. But this is the battlefield, not the courtroom... and we have to live with the consequences of our choices, good or ill."

"You don't have to justify... yourself to me. You want to kill... you do so... reasons are for those who are afraid to act like they really want to." Cray spat out. The only piece of his damn cockpit that was still working perfectly fine seemed to be his comm board, which was still blinking with that annoying call light... damn thing had been on for nearly thirty minutes now. "In truth... you'd be a fool not to kill me now... because if you don't... I will make absolutely sure... somehow... someway... that you regret it. So stop spouting your ridiculous reasons... I'm a mass murdering psychopath to whom remorse isn't even a concept... and I'm damned proud of that. It makes me free... so much more free than you... huh... Liberty... you're so bound by... the chains of your reasons... you should... call that monster you pilot... the Shackles..." Cray trailed off into a coughing chuckle. "Far more fitting... from my point of view."

A flashing icon on Kira's display board caught his eye for a moment... an update from the Archangel. The Archangel and Kusanagi had broken through the enemy line and destroyed three enemy carriers... but had been unable to disable the command ship. The enemy mobile suit forces had been defeated as well, with heavy losses to the Earth Forces, due in part to Alkire's participation in the battle... apparently he'd pulled a few moves even Mu might have thought twice about, but it had been enough to put large groups of enemies directly in the fire lanes of the Kusanagi's main guns. It wasn't all good news though... before retreating the enemy command ship had deployed a final unit of mobile suits... nine Strike Crusaders and the Freedom model they'd seen in Orb, probably piloted by none other than Asmodeus Sark himself. They had headed south, towards Kira, at flank speed about thirty minutes ago... given their current speed the Freedom would be arriving any minute, with the Crusaders a few minutes behind that. The ZAFT submarine force had turned about when the EA fleets stared their retreat, the ZAFT forces were coming back in directly along the path the merchant ships of the EA would be taking in their retreat once they finished on loading the recalled soldiers. That confrontation would bear careful watching... the battle was technically over, with ZAFT apparently victorious... but tempers and passions were running near to bursting right now. But that was some time off... right now Kira had more pressing concerns. "I don't have to justify myself... that is true. But all the same... despite all you've done... to me... my friends and family... and to innumerable other people during your life... including your own family...you still deserved more epitaph than just an execution shot. You were once a human being...even if you don't remember, I know this to be true... you had a mother and father, just like everyone else. This is the end for you, Cray... to paraphrase something someone once said... may God have mercy on your soul... because I have none left to spare for you." Kira started to squeeze the trigger.

It had been a reasonably good battle for Shinn. After the debacle with Commander Randolf at Gibralter, Shinn had been in a hospital for about a month recovering from the severe dehydration he'd suffered during his hours trapped in his disabled Efreet's cockpit out in the desert. In truth he'd recovered from the dehydration quickly enough... it was the emotional shock of having his teammates and commanding officer mostly killed off during his first mission with ZAFT that had really floored him. He'd lost so much on Onogoro during the last war... his entire family, gone in the blink of an eye due to the arrogance of the Attha family and the carelessness of the pilot of the Freedom. He'd left on the refugee ships and come to the PLANTS as an orphan... he wasn't technically old enough to take care of himself yet, at only fourteen, going on fifteen. But he was a Coordinator and even in a society of Coordinators, there were some things he was just better at than some people... like hacking into the citizenry database and "adjusting" his age forward a few years so he could join ZAFT to strike back at the people who had taken everything important from his life. He was far from the only Orb Coordinator to choose to go into ZAFT... and far from the only underage one to do it as well. He'd have been shocked if half of his basic training division had been old enough to need to shave... but given the emergency state of affairs at the time and indeed now as well, ZAFT hadn't looked too closely at the actual ages of it's soldiers... Coordinators usually matured faster than Naturals... a fourteen year old with the right motivation was perfectly capable of being a disciplined soldier if they were a Coordinator. And Shinn definitely had the right motivation... he hadn't made it into the Elite program on his first application... he suspected because their age requirements were actually enforced... but he knew he was on the fast track for advancement as soon as he turned fifteen. His whole life revolved around ZAFT and being the best soldier he could possibly be right now. His abilities and zeal had gotten him assigned to the competent unit of Commander Aireg Randolf and gotten him assigned one of the then brand new Efreet mobile suits... a definite mark of status for a newbie right out of basic.

But then had come the confrontation with the Liberty out in the desert... everything had gone terribly wrong... he'd been on the cusp of defeating his foe, he was sure of it... but he just hadn't been able to... the other pilot was just that little bit tougher than him. And then he'd been out of commission while the rest of the unit except for his team got slaughtered in an ambush set up by Lacus Clyne. Shinn still had trouble believing that... like every other young Coordinator male currently unattached, he had a special place in his heart for the heartbreakingly kind and beautiful Lacus Clyne... he refused to believe she could betray a fellow Coordinator. She was Lacus Clyne, for crying out loud! But in any case, Randolf's unit had been wiped out almost to the last man, and the only salvagable survivors had been Shinn and his Efreet scout unit. He'd received a commendation for his service in the desert and then been assigned to garrison duty at Carpentaria while the higher ups tried to figure out what to do after Gibralter. He'd ended up getting forgotten and stuck in Carpentaria... not a bad posting for most soldiers, but Shinn always wanted to be where the action was... every time people started talking about a raid on Orb, he was always there, listening intently. But nothing ever ended up happening... ZAFT mostly stayed on the defensive, digging in and fortifying their assests. It was intensely frustrating for him, but he managed to work through it... largely by working the simulators half to death... his skills had taken visible steps in the months since his fight in the desert... there were few people at Carpentaria... non-elites that is... who'd dare step into the simulator against him. The Elites were a different case... he could beat some of them some of the time, but none of them all the time, and his wins were infrequent and usually had some factor of luck incorporated into them. But he was getting better every time... marginally closer with every fight.

And then had come this big push by the EA to take over or destroy Carpentaria. He'd initially thought it was a land grab sort of thing... but after seeing the nukes raining down, he was much more of the view that the EA was just trying to stamp them out like bugs. Then the mobile suits and jets had started coming, in seemingly endless waves. He'd taken out two fighter-bombers in the first wave, and been fortunate enough to have a low flying wing of skygraspers fly directly over his head close enough to allow him to shoot down one of them with barely any trouble at all. During the first hours of fighting he'd assisted in taking out four Strike Daggers and two Strike Crusaders, and had accounted for two Strike Daggers by himself... it wasn't really fair... compared to his invisible Efreet the Strike Daggers were barely more than large clockwork toys, and the Crusaders just bigger and louder toys. During the second wave of pure Strike Crusader's he'd led one of the flanking charges and taken down three more Crusaders. His unit had been one of the lucky ones not deployed to delay the Orb forces... he'd champed at the bit initially, but had been glad afterwards, upon hearing how the Orb forces had massacred the Efreet's sent against them... they had some system that could sense Mirage Colloid units somehow. He'd pulled back to recharge both his mobile suit and himself and then plunged back into the grinding, swaying fight for the first defense line... by the time the huge enemy machine had shown up, he'd taken down three more Strike Daggers, one more jet fighter and one more Strike Crusader... more than enough during the battle as a whole to qualify him as an ace. But by that point he really didn't care... he was exhausted and emotionally wrung dry... he may have been doing well but far too many of his friends and colleauges were not... the death toll was horrifying... especially for the Low Orbit Forces... only one Nazca remained in orbit, and it was heavily damaged. ZAFT had suffered fifty to sixty percent losses to total troop strength... a staggering amount and those just the initial estimates, which would doubtless be raised afterwards as the full scope of the battle became clear.

He'd just been pulling back for a small breather when the Merciless... that was how the enemy identified himself... had obliterated a huge section of the second defense line with a tactical nuke and then landed in the created gap and begun to sow havoc like a god of destruction. Shinn had seen and greatly respected the live fire exercises the Grendel's went through... but this giant Merciless put them to shame with ease... wiping out entire teams at a time with a single unstoppable stream of firepower so concentrated not even Efreet could close the distance... the fire was just too thick to pass through alive. And even worse... when finally flanked, the Merciless had demonstarted a defensive system advanced enough as to render ineffective the combined might of five Grendels... no little feat. Shinn had been forced to watch, horrified beyond measure, as the Merciless proved its name by falling upon three civilian shelters like a bloodthirsty berserker... scooping people up with its hands, crushing them into balls or just tossing them around like confetti... bathing in the blood of innocents, taunting the ZAFT forces all around, afraid to fire for fear of hitting the civilians. Then the beast had actually started rolling around in one of the shelters, crushing hundreds and painting itself with the gore... Shinn had had a flashback of his family's death... his father, crushed by a tree... his mother, pulped by boulders... his sister Maru, her arm torn off and her body split like a rotten log... by the time he'd recovered from the terrible memories the Liberty had arrived... the very suit that had attacked and disabled him in the desert those months ago. Shinn had forced himself to admit he was impressed... the Liberty single handedly managed to do what all the gathered ZAFT forces had been unable to accomplish... the humbling of the terrible Merciless. The Liberty hadn't exactly made the fight look easy... indeed there had been one part when Shinn had been sure the Liberty defeated, phase shift armor or no phase shift armor. But once again the pilot had showed his stamina and had battled through the beating to fully disable the Merciless. But then, instead of doing the reasonable thing, the pilot of the Liberty had launched into this tirade on reasons and justice and other bullshit that had no place on a nuclear battlefield... it had disgusted Shinn. To think that such a skilled pilot was such a wishy-washy liberal softy... it was obscene. Shinn couldn't take it any more... he disabled his Mirage Colloid and stepped forward. The Liberty ignored him, its pilot still intent on his conversation with the enemy pilot. Shinn had been dreaming of a moment like this for months... he didn't hesitate. His back mounted beam cannon turret swung up onto his shoulders and took aim with both cannons, he flicked his Mirage Colloid on and off to disrupt his sensor signal for a vital moment.

"Wait a minute... we don't have orders to engage..." one of the other ZAFT mobile suits radioed. It wasn't anyone he knew, so he ignored it... could always say he had comm difficulties... happened all the time with all the N-Jammers around on Earth.

Kira was just pulling the trigger when Shinn's beam blasts took him from behind. He was lucky he had re-engaged the Angel Halo system after downing Cray for good... he'd had to disengage it before firing the Gugnir cannon and he didn't always remember to re-engage afterwards. Because the Angel Halo was active the blasts that Shinn thought were aimed squarely at the center back of the Liberty instead struck one at each shoulder joint and had their energy dissipated by a good thirty percent. If the beams had hit where they intended Kira would have been vaporized, likely without ever knowing what hit him... Shinn's brief flick of the Mirage Colloid had erased him from Kira's threat board for a nearly fatal second... combined with all the other things on his mind, he'd lost track of the single mobile suit which blinked off and on on the threat display. Of course, lucky was always such a relative term... instead of exploding in a fiery explosion, the Liberty just sagged, both arms disabled from the shoulders down, with a large smoking crater blown in the back of each shoulder joint. Each hand went slack as power and control was lost to each arm, dropping the dual 57mm rifle and the triple sniper cannon to the ground with loud CLANG-LANG noises. Kira was thrown forward from the impact, half slipping out of his partially disabled restraints and slamming his head into his primary display, cracking the screen. If he hadn't been wearing his helmet... but he had been, so all he suffered was dizziness that slowly faded over the next few seconds. The Liberty tottered forward a few steps, tripping headlong over the remaining left leg of the Merciless and crashing face first to the ground in yet another impact that set Kira to bouncing around his cockpit... something he was getting heartily sick of. It was quite a trick getting to his feet again without the use of his arms... he was still on his knees when even more bad news showed up.

Asmodeus was not in a good mood. For one, the battle was a total failure on both fronts... neither Carpentaria nor the PLANTS had been destroyed... sure, maybe a good portion of ZAFT's terrestrial strength had been decimated, but so had a good deal of the Alliance's... this battle had done nothing but knock each side back, bloody and dizzy. And everyone knew, Coordinators recovered faster than Naturals. For another, he'd been forced to call Cervantes and tell him that... in more diplomatic terms of course, but Cervantes knew failure when he heard it. Asmodeus had been cringing slightly, given how his boss had responded to the other phone calls, but Cervantes had remained calm and focused... which was actually worse. Asmodeus knew Cervantes as well as anyone, if not better than anyone... and when Cervantes suffered a setback and was calm about it, that was a very, very bad sign. It meant his boss had seen something that made him believe that he could use the setback to his own advantage... and while that was often the case... all such recovery plans were far, far riskier than his boss usually operated. Asmodeus did not like risk... it was his personal nemesis that he did all he could to eliminate from every facet of life he could... and when Cervantes took risks... Blue Cosmos took risks... and with risks came the possibility of a catastrophe. And Blue Cosmos might not be strong enough to cope with a catastrophe the size of whatever plan Cervantes had that was keeping him calm through the failure of his one shot win the war strategy AND the loss of JIHAD. Finally, Asmodeus was not in a good mood because he was currently flying past the first ZAFT defense line his troops had tried so hard to crack with backup some minutes behind him, and laughably few in number anyway, on his way to probably face the premier mobile suit pilot currently living in combat, in order to rescue a precious Blue Cosmos asset that Asmodeus would personally rather just throw into an airlock... without a spacesuit. However, the situation was more... complicated... than he had thought, when he arrived.

Cray had indeed been defeated by Kira Yamato... the Liberty was looking battered and beaten... but almost pristine in comparison to the ravaged hulk of the Merciless, which was missing its right arm at the shoulder, the left arm at the elbow and the right leg below the knee. The chest of the Merciless looked like someone had been playing a giant blowtorch over it for several minutes, after tearing out three disc shaped holes each more than three meters in diameter and about one and a half meters deep. It was hard to believe that Cray could still be alive... if he hadn't seen the limb stumps of the Merciless twitching and the blackened and seared head turn to look at him as he approached, Asmodeus might have written the mission off as a loss. He was tempted to do so anyway... now that he was within line of sight, he could detonate the Merciless... and Cray... whenever he chose, in order to deny the precious Blue Cosmos technology and assets to ZAFT... no one but him would everknow that Cray had been still kicking when Asmodeus blew him up... Asmodeus shook his head... Blue Cosmos had suffered enough today. The Earth alliance would need its now precious stock of BCPU's to even the odds against the PLANTS in the future... especially with the troubling reports of the new ZAFT models up in space. Asmodeus hit the comm board override for the Merciless, forcing his call through. "Cray... I know you're alive. And that means you can hear me. The order is to retreat. Do you understand? Retreat to Panama right now."

"Can you see what this bastard did to me? What he's done to my Merciless!?" Cray protested.

"I don't care what he's done to you or your mobile suit... in truth, you had this coming to you when you ignored the withdraw order... maybe you'll be more disciplined in the future." Asmodeus brought the Purifier to a hover overhead, looking down at the situation. The Liberty had been about to blast Cray into nothingness... an action Asmodeus almost wished he'd been too late to stop. But then ZAFT had intervened... for reasons unknown, a single Efreet had stepped up behind the Liberty and shot it in the back, clearly with the intent to kill. The Liberty's defense mechanisms diverted the killing blows, instead disabling the arms of the mobile suit and sending it crashing down to the ground on its face. The Liberty was only just regaining it's feet when Asmodeus carefully brought the Purifier to the ground on the other side of the Merciless. Asmodeus kept his weapons powered up but carefully pointed in a nonthreatening direction... he was surrounded by more than thirty ZAFT mobile suits... starting a fight was the last thing he wanted. "This is Captain Asmodeus Sark... speaking to the commander of the ZAFT mobile suits surrounding me." Asmodeus said carefully over a unencrypted channel. He didn't have to wait long... within ten seconds the image of a man in the white flight suit of a ZAFT Ace-Commander appeared on his comm screen. Asmodeus couldn't see the man's face through his polarized face shield, but his voice was somewhat familiar... there weren't too many white suits in the ZAFT mobile suit forces and Asmodeus had studied them all... the elimination of people like them had been one of his priorities while he was in EFSOU.

"I ddn't know the Hellhound flew a mobile suit... especially not a Freedom." the Ace-Commander commented sourly.

"Ah... but there are many things you don't know about me, Ace-Commander Timothy Doone. I see you've traded in your old LaGowe for something a little more... appropriately simian." Asmodeus said, his lips curling up in a slightly scornful smile. Commander Doone was a relatively famous ZAFT commander who'd mostly done his fighting in Eurasia. Not nearly the tactician or strategist like Andrew Waltfeld or Aireg Randolf, Timothy Doone fought his battles from one point of view only... the trooper at the striking edge of the blade. He always led from the front... admirable in some aspects, but career limiting... Doone would never rise above his current station if he didn't start showing some restraint... the man apparently thought he could win the war all by his lonesome, on the power of his brawny arms and itchy trigger fingers alone. Of the possible people to be negotiating with, Doone wasn't Asmodeus's first choice... it'd be better to have someone who could see sense without having to be led to it first... but better Doone than someone really competent and dangerous, like Borander. "One of which is the reason I am here."

"You mean you aren't here to rescue that giant killing machine at your feet?" Doone asked sarcastically, training his Grendel's weapon studded arms on the Purifier. "You've come to defect have you? I'm so glad."

"You misunderstand. I am here to retrieve this machine and its pilot... for punishment. The pilot is a mutineer... he ignored direct orders to cease fighting and withdraw. I'm here to take him back for a court martial and probable execution." Asmodeus replied, staring at Doone with his icy eyes.

"If he's to die anyway, why not just kill him now? I can do it for you, if it bothers your concience." Doone countered. "God knows, that bastard has it coming for what he did to those civilians."

"More acts for which he will be duly punished... at court martial." Asmodeus said firmly. "If you wish, ZAFT can request to extradite him for war crimes after we court martial him... this is a war, but some things cannot be countenaced by either side."

"Like the nuking of civilian cities?" Doone snarled. "Or your cowardly sneak attack on the PLANTS, again armed with nuclear weapons?"

"I'm just a Captain... I don't make the orders, I just follow them to the best of my ability. For what it's worth, I wish those missiles had never been fired... that this entire operation had never taken place." Asmodeus replied, sincerely. He'd told Cervantes before that this battle was a mistake... ZAFT had turned Carpentaria into a shattering point for the Alliance to break itself on... and it very nearly had.

"Yeah... sure, whatever." Doone retorted contemptuously. "You expect me to believe that?"

"If you think ZAFT got the raw end of the deal... you need to unpolarize that helmet and take a look around, Doone. Yes... our forces inflicted heavy damage with the nukes and our invading forces... but you threw us back... we lost the entire twelth lunar fleet, with only a few hundred survivors. Your submarine forces are currently having a turkey shoot with our retreating troop transports... your casualties may run into the thousands... but ours will be ten times as high at least. Your defenses held against the strongest attack we could muster...do you think I would be here, negotiating with you, if the Alliance had the upper hand? No... you'd be dead already if my side was currently the stronger." Asmodeus pointed out wearily. Doone leaned back in his cockpit and considered what Sark had told him... it made sense of a sort... if the Alliance had the upper hand, they always pressed it... always. That they currently weren't attacking meant that Sark was probably telling the truth... the Alliance had beaten itself mostly senseless on the rock of Carpentaria and was reeling back in disarray. Still... given what he'd seen happen, Doone couldn't let the bastard in the Merciless leave alive... his honor and decency as a human being cried out for revenge.

"I didn't realize we were negotiating... I thought that required two parties of equal strength... or at least holding items of equal value. What can you offer ZAFT that would convince us to let you take this mutinous pilot and his terrible machine back to your bases... when we'll all too likely see them again at some point in the future?" Doone asked. Asmodeus frowned inwardly... Doone was sharper than he thought... he'd either guessed or figured out that Cray would stand no trial... anybody who could pilot something like the Merciless wasn't going to get executed for taking the fight to the enemy a little too liberally.

"Your life and the lives of all those around us. Did you honestly think that I, the Hellhound of EFSOU... would come to you like this if I didn't have a trump card?" Asmodeus said with a smirk. "All it takes is a single press of a button and the two hundred megaton thermonuclear self destruct device hooked up to the Merciless's twin reactors will detonate... the blast should easily destroy all life within three quarters of a mile... the radioactive fallout would blow down onto Carpentaria and render it uninhabitable for decades to come. It's a modern version of what used to be called a dirty nuke... trust me, you don't want it going off near anything thats important to you."

Doone rocked back, shocked. "But... you'd die too?" he stammered.

"Doone... let me tell you something personal. My son was killed several months ago, before the start of this war. He was murdered by a Coordinator... by Ysak Jule, son of Esaria Jule of the former PLANT supreme council. Ever since that day, I have woken up every day and asked myself a single question. Do you know what that question is?" Asmodeus's ice blue eyes bored into Doone's concealed face like twin frosty blue laser beams. "It was... "Why are you still alive when your son is not?"... do you know what my answer to that question is, Doone?" If anything, his gaze became sharper and more piercing still, until Doone felt like his eyes were being slowly frozen solid by the unwavering gaze of the Hellhound. "My answer, Ace-Commander Timothy Doone... is that... "I don't know."... Maybe today I'll end it, hmm? That wouldn't be so bad, in my opinion... no pain...leaving a big mark... who wouldn't want to go out like that?"

"You're insane!" Doone accused, jerking his gaze away from Asmodeus's.

"No... I'm just filled to the brim with grief and emptiness. It has consumed me like it has some Coordinators after Junius Seven... with my family dead I have so very little to live for any more." Asmodeus countered.

"I think murdered might be taking it a bit too far." Kira cut into the conversation, having brought the Liberty back to its feet. He'd turned back to face the ZAFT Efreet which had shot him in the back. The ZAFT machine had not retreated and indeed still had it's weapons aimed directly at Kira. "Your son was killed, yes... but only after he tried to assassinate Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha, not to mention myself, Ysak and several others. It was a matter of self defense... and in my opinion you've already taken far too much of your personal vendetta out on undeserving people to go around using your son's death as an excuse for committing atrocities."

"And who are you?" Doone snapped. "You're not in my IFF log... not a friendly, nor an enemy. Who's side are you on?"

"My name is Kira Yamato. I'm not part of ZAFT. I'm no longer part of the Earth Alliance... haven't been for more than a year now. I fight on the side of peace... on the side of people who want to end this war as quickly and bloodlessly as possible. Preferrably without firing one single more shot. However, given the unfortunate realities of human nature, I don't believe ZAFT or the Alliance will just sit down and listen merely because we ask them to." Kira replied calmly.

"Not part of the Alliance... HAH!" Shinn spat. "Then why did you help them destroy Commander Randolf at Gibralter... don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about... I nearly roasted you alive there, but you managed to take me out at the last second."

"I fought to perserve Commander Randolf's life at the behest of Lacus... it was Cray here and his comrades, who ambushed and killed your Commander during his peace negotiations with Lacus." Kira replied, off guard at the blatant hostility in the other's voice.

"You can say whatever you want... Kira Yamato. I know you... though we've never met face to face... you... you and your damn sister, the bitch queen of orb... you took my family from me at Onogoro. I'll never forgive you for that. Never. You also took Commander Randolf from me... he was my friend... they were all my friends... and you either killed them or let them die at the hands of the Alliance... don't tell me otherwise... I saw how good you are, both then and now... theres no way you couldn't have stopped the Alliance... unless you didn't want to." Shinn snarled hoarsely.

"Wow... someone's got animosity problems. Take it from me, Coordinator... you have to embrace those feelings and let them empower you, before they destroy you. I know all about channeling hatred." Cray said cheerily.

"This is getting out of hand. I don't care what problems you Coordinators have with each other... I'm taking my soldier and his machine back to Panama for court martial and punishment. If any of you so much as twitch a finger to stop me, I'll blow us all into atomic dust." Asmodeus broke into the conversation, voice almost pained.

"Hey hey hey... not so loud with the atomic detonation stuff... I'm still in here, you know." Cray protested.

"Since you know that matters to me so much, I can see why you might think I care." Asmodeus replied with bitter sarcasm. "Now lift off and get moving... there's an escort of nine Strike Crusaders inbound to assist you if you need it."

"Yeesh, yes sir!" Cray grumbled, wincing as his wounds contorted as he worked the controls, slowly levitating the mauled Merciless into a sort of flight... he wasn't going much faster than a toy airplane, but at least he was up and moving.

"Now hold on a moment here... we never agreed to let you go." Doone's Grendel took two steps forward, weapon laden forearms pointing at the Merciless and Purifier.

"Unless you want to die, you really don't have a choice." Asmodeus replied with a grim chuckle.

"I'm a soldier and I'm on a battlefield... dying is a risk we all take. Letting the enemy escape to return another day would be to besmirch the honor of all of those heroes that have fallen today beneath your foul weaponry." Doone shot back. "That giant... thing... is obviously an important asset to the Alliance... why else send you in person and an escort to recover it from us? Why else equip it with a dirty nuke self detonation device? I cannot in good faith with my oaths as a ZAFT soldier let you recover it in even such a damaged state as it is. Even if it costs me... and every other soldier here... our lives. Isn't that right, people?" A loud chorus of frosty agreement answered that question. Shinn voiced his assent as well... not only could he not let the Alliance have their mobile suit back... he couldn't let the Liberty escape either... his first shots had been slightly deflected by that glow... he'd compensate better this time. He carefully forced his aiming reticule to remain steady over the middle section of the Liberty's torso... right where the cockpit should be.

Kira's comm board lit up... messages from both the Kusanagi and the Archangel, probably wondering where the hell he was. He couldn't afford to distract himself by answering them though... this situation was poised on a hair trigger... a blink at the wrong time could be disastrous for the entire population of Carpentaria, assuming Asmodeus really was feeling suicidal... which Kira didn't put beyond the man at all. And if the bomb didn't get him, the ZAFT pilot in the Efreet sure sounded like he wanted to make a good second go at his life... Kira could hardly believe the pent up rage and grief in the other's voice... plainly the ZAFT pilot blamed him for some extremely traumtic event Kira had no idea had happened. and not only blamed him, but blamed Cagalli too... there had been little but loathing in the pilot's voice when he spoke of Kira's sister. Another light blinked into existence on the comm board... a short range message light. Kira tapped the line open, muting the common line he had been speaking on. "Hello?"

"Ah, god damn, Kira, I was getting worried! Where the hell are you? Everyone back on the warships have been going batshit for the past twenty minutes, ever since they disengaged from the fight and you didn't return. You're going to have some very fancy explaining to do to more than one incensed female when you get your ass in gear and head back." Alkire's voice exploded over the link. Kira winced... Alkire had his volume up far too loud.

"I've got bigger problems..." Kira replied, trying to maintain calm. "Asmodeus is here... he's retrieving Cray... and I don't think ZAFT is going to let them leave."

"I'd imagine not... I wouldn't, if I were they."Alkire responded. "I'm about two minutes away... think you can prevent fireworks until I can arrive to back you up?"

"I'll do my best... my arms have been crippled by a sneak attack from a ZAFT soldier who seems to hold me in great personal contempt... I still have my shoulder, hip and chest weapons, but I'm going to be hurting in a sustained fight. And as for fireworks... if you see a big nuclear fireball... that means the fireworks went off despite my best efforts... Asmodeus is feeling a bit suicidal, or so he claims, due to the death of his son." Kira said with a slight smile of irritation.

"Jesus bloody fucking Christ..." Alkire's cursing faded out for a moment before he came back on the line, once more in control. "Allright... I read you. Situation is tense in the extreme. I'll communicate that to the warships. And don't doubt Asmodeus... if he say's he's going to bloody well disassemble your mobile suit with a crab fork... he's gonna bloody well do it, somehow. The fucking bastard has balls of pure steel... he wouldn't even think twice about pushing the button, now that he's laid the threat on the table."

"I think the ZAFT commander knows that too... he's made a lot of verbal threats, but he's yet to follow anything up with actions." Kira answered.

"Just stay the fuck alive, kid. If you make me explain to Lacus why you didn't come back from this one, I'll never forgive you... and you can bet I'll be seeing you up in heaven shortly afterwards, cause she'll strangle me with her bare hands, don't you doubt it." Alkire said grimly. "Alkire out... ETA one minute ten seconds. I'm coming in hot and loaded for bear."

"Understood." Kira replied. He flipped off the channel and unmuted the common line again. The dialouge had not improved during his chat with Alkire... Doone was still threatening Asmodeus, Asmodeus was still threatening Doone and neither side was backing down. The nine crusaders had arrived and were helping the Merciless fly away, increasing its speed and altitude to a more normal if still achingly slow level. The Freedom was retreating behind them, facing back towards the ZAFT forces who were following closely on foot... the Merciless not yet even close to flying faster than they could walk or run. Almost all the ZAFT forces were in pursuit of the Alliance mobile suits... except for the one Efreet that was facing him down from less than twenty meters away, beam cannons pointed unwaveringly at his chest, beam sabers unlit in each hand. "What's your name?" Kira asked the pilot.

"Shinn. Shinn Asuka. Formerly of Orb... now of ZAFT." Shinn replied coldly. Kira was surprised at how young the other pilot sounded... he couldn't have been more than fifteen... still, that was hardly unusual for the ZAFT forces, being pressed for troops like they were... and with the generally lower age of maturity of Coordinator children.

"I don't want to fight you, Shinn. This battle is over... by most accounts, ZAFT has won. Your losses have been severe,,, but you're not the only ones that have suffered... the Earth Alliance losses are at least equal to your own..."

"Don't talk to me about losses... not when they nuked those poor helpless civilians! We may have won the battle... but victory isn't what it used to be. Not with nukes around." Shinn retorted. "You may not want to fight me... you seem to have some sort of oath of not killing most people... I'd advise you to forget such a thing... it has no place on a real battlefield."

"If I had a dime for every time someone has told me that..." Kira said wearily. "You fight your way... and if you force me too, I'll fight mine. I really just want to leave... to go back to my friends and family, who are worried about me." Upon reflection, mentioning family might not have been the most diplomatic of moves.

"Family? FAMILY!? You bastard! You stole my family from me... you and Yula Attha's precious fight for IDEALS of PEACE. You dare speak to me of seeing your FAMILY!?" Shinn screamed, his voice so raw with still fresh pain that Kira actually flinched slightly. He was forced to gun his thrusters and dodge aside as Shinn opened fire... Kira had to grant the other guy this much... he may have been emotionally unstable, but he didn't let it interfere with his shooting... Kira was actually having to work a bit to dodge the blasts.

"Stop it, Shinn... I don't want to fight you!" Kira insisted.

"Then stand still and let me kill you, you son of a bitch!" Shinn rasped, activating his beam swords. "I'll cut you into a hundred steaming little pieces."

"I can't let you do that either." Kira said sadly. Shinn laughed.

"I don't see how you're going to stop me... you can't keep away from me forever... especially when..." the Efreet disappeared from view. "... I use the Mirage Colloid. And you can't use your arms... you can barely even fight back at all!"

"I wouldn't be so confident in that asessment." Kira said coldly, slipping back into SEED mode. It was very faint... but in atmosphere Mirage Colloid was slightly less effective than in space... there was the tiniest of blurs in the air around the outline of the Efreet... barely noticable to the unaided eye... most pilots would have ignored it as heat haze or an optical illusion. Kira was not most pilots. Shinn charged forward, beam sabers both going high for a pair of downward slashes. Kira abrupdtly reversed thrust and charged forward himself, planting one foot down and lifting his right knee squarely into the chest of the Efreet, deeply denting the armor and tossing the machine backwards to land on its back, mangling the beam turret. Shinn started to roll to his feet, but Kira gave him no chance... in a blur of movement the Liberty's right leg came back down and stomped on the right wrist of the Efreet, crushing the connection to the hand and severing the digit with a CRUNCH! Kira's railguns pivoted out and downward and blew the Efreet's legs off at mid thigh, shorting out the Mirage Colloid. Shinn made a desperate prone swing with his last beam saber, but Kira flipped the Liberty completely over the wild swing and kicked the beam saber out of his hand as it righted itself like an acrobat. "Please... you've lost... don't force me to disable you completely." Kira pleaded, aiming his hyper impulse cannons at the Efreet's head.

"Damn you to hell!" Shinn swore as his controls shorted out in bursts of flame and sparks. Alkire's jet came thundering overhead at right that instant, streaking by at greater than Mach 5 at less than ten meters above the ground. The shockwave tossed mobile suits around like chaff... if Kira hadn't been in SEED mode he probably would have joined them... as things were he turned the fall into a roll and the roll into a kip up... not an easy thing to do in an eighteen meter war machine, but doable if you knew what you were doing. Shinn's crippled Efreet went rolling across the ground like an enormous metal tumbleweed, finally coming to rest on its face, leg stumps facing back at Kira.

"GODDAMN I LIKE THIS JET!" Alkire cried over his comm channel as he slowed and banked into a long turn, about ten miles away. Low fuel and airframe stress alarms were blaring at him, but he ignored them... he had enough juice to make it back... barely... and if the airframe had held up to that little stunt, it wasn't going to fall apart from just normal flying. "Get a move on, kid! I only surprised them the first time... if I come around again they'll shoot me out of the sky like I was stuck to flypaper!"

Kira took off and headed towards the indicated meeting point with the Archangel and Kusanagi. "I'm sorry we had to fight, Shinn... I hope that if we meet again, you'll have found closure with your grief."

"Closure! I'll give you closure!" Shinn dragged his Efreet across the ground with its good arm, scraping his way over to where the weapons the Liberty had dropped had tumbled to a stop at. He grabbed the universal grip of the dual 57mm beam rifle and took unsteady aim. "Closure this, you bastard!" Shinn opened fire erratically, spraying green energy hypens at the Liberty's rapidly retreating back. Kira didn't even look back... his mind was on other things... more important things. He rolled and flipped and looped the Liberty around the energy blasts almost without thinking... his sensors were barely necessary, when he was in SEED mode it was like he could feel where his foes were aiming... and then all he had to do was go around. Shinn kept firing long after the Liberty was out of range... kept firing until he'd completely drained his batteries... and then he started weeping and found he couldn't stop.


	66. The Aftermath

Noah looked expectantly up at the five assorted enginners, mechanics and technicians working at the outside hatch control mechanisms of the Pulsar. After destroying the Alliance fleet with their own missiles, Jeremiah had limped the Pulsar home to the Carnot, keeping the machine well within tolerances more in spec for the Elementals... he felt he'd stressed the prototype more than enough with his little stunt with the missiles. And besides just that, he was actually hurting quite a bit... his tongue had been seared and he'd spent more than twenty minutes surrounded by gel on all sides that was currently still more than one hundred twenty degrees fahrenheight... not the most humanly comfortable environment, especially when you were breathing that gel too. In truth, he'd barely been able to get the Pulsar into the hanger without crashing... his lungs were screaming at him and he had a headache like he could barely believe. It was so bad it was actively affecting his ability to pilot... making his movements jerky and unresponsive. A possible side effect of the NIC system... but probably it had more to do with the steaming hot environment... if he wasn't dehydrated he knew nothing about anatomy. Jeremiah waited impatiently as the gel slowly leaked down through the floor drains back into the holding tanks, where it would be swapped out for fresh fluid later. Technically the same fluid could be recycled and used by the Pulsar time and time again... up to fifty times in a row... but that grew progressively nastier and wasn't something Jeremiah saw fit to subject himself to. He choked and coughed and spat up the gel in his lungs as the gel level descended past his neck... his entire chest ached with the suddenly felt effort of breathing a substance not only thicker than air, but significantly thicker than water... despite his training specifically for that purpose, he still felt like he'd just run a marathon uphill.

Down below, near the still too hot to touch foot of the Pulsar, Noah tapped his foot impatiently. He could feel how exhausted his uncle was... Jeremiah's mind was usually a bright pulsing flare of energy when Noah looked for it... now he could barely make it out. A slightly disturbing image was that the Pulsar was also dimly glowing with the mental presence of his uncle... a feeling which faded as the NIC shut down... but still something to remember. Noah unconsciously hefted his portable computer tighter under his arm... he'd gotten some really good data with his brainwave recorder... enough to make a significant start on the basic programs for his AI mobile suit pilot. Of course, the test wasn't perfect... the Pulsar had yet to be equipped with its array of weapons, and Noah doubted he'd really get the best patterns until he could record his uncle using the armaments... but it was enough for now. A very tiny part of Noah's mind breathed a big sigh of relief that not only was his uncle Jeremiah relatively okay, but the PLANTS were safe once again from the spectre of nuclear annihilation. For the meanwhile anyway. However, that part of Noah was so small even he barely acknowledged it... his relief was completely undetectable to the people around him. To the crew he looked almost petulant or disappointed, like a child denied a promised treat or gift. His computer beeped lazily in his arms. Noah wasted no time in slinking off a few paces for privacy and opening the computer back up... he recognized the signal as one of many he used to signify a message from someone in his network. Most people would have found the idea that Noah even had a spy network at all, much less one that was as far reaching in its way as both ZAFT and the EA military intelligence forces, to be fanciful at best. But it was true... of course, most of his network had no idea they were passing information on to a ten year old... they just knew him as a frighteningly intelligent man with a thirst for power and an agenda so far reaching none of them could comprehend even the small pieces they were part of. Computer comms made everything so easy... appearance changing and speech modifying programs weren't that hard to make.

The message was from one of his most effective pairs of agents... an old friend of his family, Jean Dylan... a recent Levansworth escapee... a mutineer, traitor and general scoundrel from the dregs of the EA military... and a newer recruit, fresh from a private intensive care hospital run privately by the Boranders for their top valued employees, where he had been recovering from serious third degree burns over more than seventy percent of his body as well as undergoing treatment for the flash blinding his eyes had suffered during his injuring. Aireg Randolf was not known to be alive by more than a very few people... less than could be counted on one hand... and of those few people... only Noah and the doctor who treated him would still be among the living by the end of the month. Noah didn't like ordering the deaths of fellow Coordinators... but Aireg was now an essential part of the Eden plan... and the Eden plan ALWAYS took priority. Dylan, who had a sleazy network of "buddies" in the darker parts of nearly every city on Earth, was one of Noah's top agents... one of the few whom he had actually graced with his presence and who knew at least a little bit about the greater goals of the Eden plan. Normally he'd hardly trust a Natural so much... but Dylan was a special case... Noah had so much dirt on him that if he so much as breathed wrong, Noah could have him executed a dozen times over... by either the EA or ZAFT. Dylan had not made many friends on either side when he'd sold the data on the JOSH-A cyclops system to Rau Le Creuste in the last war... his EA commanders considered him a traitor and ZAFT thought he intentionally led them into an ambush, since Rau of course declined to share the information. The older clone may have been totally off his rocker... but Noah had always liked him anyway... he could emphazise with how Rau felt about Naturals. They were just... so... bothersome, sometimes. They never knew what they wanted... and they always made things worse when they tried to fix things... it would be far better if they were all Coordinators instead. As for Randolf... the man was driven by an obsessive desire for revenge... as long as Noah promised to help him accomplish that revenge, Aireg Randolf would do whatever was necessary. Thinking of Rau reminded Noah that he needed to take his medicine again soon or he get cramps... damn his clone flaw but not even his mother had yet found a way to cure his terminal condition.

Randolf and Dylan were going to Earth, to Orb, on Noah's orders. He'd anticipated that the EA would regroup at Orb after the battle at Carpentaria... no matter which way the fight had gone, Orb was the closest friendly nation with the facilities to cope with the damage the EA would have had to have suffered... and did suffer... during the battle. Also, Orb was a simmering pool of anti-war resentment... even in victory a strong military presence would likely have been required to maintain peace and order. And despite what the EA networks were already broadcasting, few people would see the results of the battle as anything close to a victory for the EA... they'd lost a fleet in space, gotten kicked out of Carpentaria... and generally hadn't accomplished anything besides beat the bloody snot out of ZAFT while taking a similar beating. In defeat, Orb would likely become an even hotter bed of protests and even riots... Noah checked his other, lower priority email while he scanned Dylan's report, his incredible mind easily able to take in four different pages of text at once. Yes... other agents were already reporting stirrings in the Orb underground resistance established by Colonel Ledonir Kisaka before he left Orb for the Kusanagi... word was getting out on the streets that the Alliance had just gotten its ass handed to itself wrapped up in a bright pink bow. People were already starting to gather and plainly some people had been waiting for something like this to happen, because invitations to pro-peace organizations across the world to gather in Orb for a massive protest were already flooding the nets. Noah smirked... as if the EA response wasn't completely obvious... after Cervantes Zunnichi seduced Orb into the Alliance, he wouldn't let it host such an inflammatory and demoralizing event quietly... oh no... blood would be spilled in Orb... and soon... before the month was out, probably. That was why Dylan and Randolf were there... they were to observe the Alliance response and recovery... and continue their primary mission... to continue to search out more potential recruits for the Eden plan.

Noah looked up as the medical teams rushed his protesting uncle away to the infirmary... in truth, Jeremiah wasn't doing all that much protesting... he looked like shit and he had to be feeling at least twice as bad, given how he was staggering even in zero G. As soon as the pilot was out of the way, a swarm of technicians descended upon the slowly cooling Pulsar... repairing, refueling and more often, taking readings on various aspects of its performance. Noah could have saved them all hours of work by showing them the data he had been beamed from the onboard computers during the fight... but that would also include showing them the brainwave patterns, among several other very hard to explain things, like a constantly updating video link from inside the ZAFT Director of Military Intelligence's private office... so Noah kept out of the way. He knew what they would conclude... the Pulsar had performed beyond the rather conservative limits they had thought up and had come through not only relatively intact, but almost pristine. The coolant system would need an overhaul, but that took less than a half day... not a bad first mission, all told. The Elementals had also performed up to Borander specifications... if not a little beyond as well. Noah had no doubt the design would be gobbled up hungrily by ZAFT, especially now. Short on troops, technological advantage was all ZAFT had to counteract the massive military might of the EA. The funding for the continued development of the Pulsar was a given... after stopping two nuclear missiles with its bare hands within sight of tens of thousands of PLANT citizens, ZAFT leaders would be castrated and hung out to bleed to death if they didn't show the public more of the incredible mobile suit. Noah typed rapidly at his specially modified keyboard with both hands... it wasn't any bigger than a normal keyboard and had the same number of keys, but by depressing a switch on one side, he could type on it like he was using two seperate keyboards at once. It was a little hard to explain... but basically he was typing two different documents at the same time on the same keyboard... his left hand hitting the keys in the normal pattern, his right hand hitting the keys in a coded pattern that translated them into regular words on the second document. It had taken him almost a month to build the computer and program the keyboard for this special use... but for someone with as much brain processing power as him, a single keyboard was just too slow and multiple keyboards were bulky and unwieldy. If he was in a more private location, he'd have been dictating a third document with a voice command system, but in the hanger that was impractical. Within five minutes he'd finished his updated orders and sent them off to his network... the next few weeks would be... interesting, to say the least.

Back on Earth, Kira had made it to the rendevous point with no further trouble. He'd been aggravated by passing over a huge section of ocean awash in tides of burning oil and pitifully few life rafts as he overflew the point where the retreating infantry transports had encountered the returning ZAFT submarine force... very few transport ships would be returning to port, from the look of things. But there was nothing for him to do... by the time he arrived the fighting had been over for ten minutes or more and given his current damaged mobile suit and battered condition, he doubted if he'd have been much help anyway. Lacus was waiting for him in the hanger of the Archangel... she tackled him before he'd even fully lowered himself to the floor, nearly sending them both tumbling ignominously to the ground in a heap. Neither of them cared. Normally when Lacus threw herself on him... a rare occassion in and of itself, Kira could catch her easily enough... she really wasn't that heavy... but given that he'd gone for what felt like a full day with no rest, much of it in SEED mode and in life and death combat no less... a stiff breeze could have blown him over and his legs buckled underneath him when he tried to walk. Lacus wasn't in much better shape... she'd fainted and gotten a few hours sleep, yes, but unconsciousness wasn't real sleep, especially when it was helped along by a drug. He tugged his helmet off and dropped it to roll with a dull thud along the metal deck as Lacus sought his face with hers. Normally they constrained themselves in public... but now was not the time for modesty, both decided. They didn't have to say anything to each other... just with touch and looks they could communicate just fine. A few minutes later Alkire trudged in, clad in sweat soaked jumpsuit from where he'd removed his flightsuit. The older man didn't look like he had much more energy than Kira himself... Kira noted a slowly spreading blood stain along Alkire's hip region, about where he'd been shot during the wedding, but given as Alkire himself seemed to be doing his best to ignore it, Kira decided not to say anything either. He winced as the back of his hands flared with pain... the burn marks finally reasserting their control over his nervous system's pain centers.

"You did a good job out there, kid." Alkire said quietly. "I always thought you were a bit of a pain in the ass before... but now I think I see why the good captain and company keep you around... it's like having an entire extra company of mobile suits on the battlefield with you."

"Ah, and here I was, thinking they had me around because they liked my personality." Kira smiled, holding Lacus close as she silently worked through her emotional high. He looked at Alkire. "You didn't do so bad yourself, for your first time in a Skygrasper." Alkire shurgged it away.

"You fly one fighter jet, you've flown em all. I'll admit, I like the thing... but in truth I'd prefer to do my fighting on the ground." Alkire replied.

"Hopefully we won't have to do any of that for a while." Kira said wearily. "Right now I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"I hear that..." Alkire slowly sank down on his haunches with his back against the hanger wall and then sat fully down with legs outstretched. As he slid down the wall, his blood soaked lower shirt left a trail on the wall. Alkire reach up and tapped a few keys on an intercomm interface board. "Ello the bridge... this is Alkire speaking... we're down in the hanger... could use some help... techs are all busy... nothing serious... just need some help walking back to our rooms."

"Understood, Alkire. I'll send some people to give you a lift shortly." Murrue replied. There was a pause. "Welcome back... and thank you. Both of you." The comm clicked off and Alkire breathed a muted laugh.

"Must have cost her a bit to say that last bit... me and mine aren't exactly the most popular group of soldiers on this ship."

"Captain Ramius may not like you or your methods... much as I don't particularly like you or your methods..." Lacus cut in. "But that doesn't prevent either of us from respecting and valuing your commitment and courage in helping the cause of peace. I wish to extend my thanks as well. Kira can take care of himself on the battlefield, but your intervention with the sonic boom was related to me as well."

"Ahh... damn... now what do I do? Everyone's being all grateful... I don't know how to deal with it." Alkire smiled crookedly. "I don't suppose this means I get a promotion?"

"Yeah... you get to go from tired old man to well used bedwarmer. That's more than a few steps up." Raine said with a wicked twinkle in her eyes as she and James walked into the hanger bay from behind Alkire. "Having a little trouble walking, Alkire? You should have known better... flying into combat with a still healing wound... I oughta leave you here to teach you a lesson."

"But I'll get all stiff..." Alkire complained. Raine leaned down and whispered something in his ear, quietly enough that James could not hear. Lacus and Kira still managed to overhear though.

"I'm planning on you getting stiff as it is. Well... at least a few parts of you anyway." Raine breathed. Alkire's eyes widened and he looked slightly more dazed than before.

"But I'm wounded... I'm bleeding... and not just a little either." He whispered back.

"You can sleep alone for the next two weeks..."

"When do we leave?" Alkire said, reaching up an arm. He flushed a little and looked at Kira, who had a huge grin on his face. "I've felt this sudden burst of energy." Alkire forced himself to frown. "Oh yeah... laugh it up, kid and kiddess... what are you two planning on doing tonight, eh?" He noted their identical flushes. "Yeah... I wouldn't make fun, if you live in a glass house too." Raine reached down and pulled Alkire to his feet, draping one arm over her shoulder and holding him tightly around the waist with both arms... ignoring the wet cloth and the stains it left on her arms.

"Come on now, Alkire. You've embarrassed them enough."

"I've embarrassed them? YOU started this... ouch!" Akire winced as Raine tightened her encircling arms. "I can't believe you're taking advantage of my wound to... ouch... to cut me... OUCH... off!"

Raine shook her head as she guided him up and away, towards the rooms TEMPEST used as berthing. "You'd think he'd learn. I'm a commando too... I'm always willing to take advantage to get what I want."

"Aaannnd on that cheery note!" James said awkwardly, having missed the whispered conversation and so had little idea what was going on... besides that everyone else was getting all flushed and embarrassed looking, which meant that he'd missed something amusing. "Let's get you both off to a more comfortable location. You both look like you're ready to hibernate for the next winter... and maybe the one after that too." James stepped over to them and did not bother to disengage Lacus from Kira's arms. He just picked them both up in one large bundle by lifting Kira, who clutched Lacus securely to his front and carried them both like a huge sack of grain. "Sorry if this is awkward... phh... pink hair in my eyes... phh... phh... phh... darn it." He moved fast... if Alkire's last comment was anything to go by, Kira had a rather important and probably enjoyable task ahead of him that neither he nor Lacus would want delayed any more than necessary. If James had been in his spot, he would have moved heaven and earth to... begin the festivities... even a few seconds sooner. Especially with a damned cute looker like Lacus. James had to say, he'd seen more beautiful young girls in the past few months than he had in the entire rest of his life combined... what was it about crisis situations that demanded that the girls be hot as hell as well as important? It was almost like something out of an old movie. It was too bad they were all too young for him... and all spoken for besides that. And spoken for by some of the scariest people James had ever met... people that he did not want coming after him, commando training or no commando training. Within minutes he had reached their room. He nudged the door control with one shoulder and deposited them together on the single bed, keeping his eyes straight ahead and not wandering around the privacy of their room. "Uh... ah... have a good night then."

"I... we... will, thank you." Lacus said.

"Yeah." Kira said supportively, momentarily berefit of the ability to use multisyllable words. He found this difficulty with speech did not ease with time... rather, as soon as James shut and considerately locked their door, he found that even completing single syllable words to be highly difficult. But certainly enjoyable. He allowed himself to forget all about the rest of the world for the next hour or two... all that mattered to him was contained in the single room aboard the Archangel. Unfortunately for the rest of the ship, the night did not pass so blissfully for all. Murrue and Waltfeld stayed up well past midnight in a conference call with Kisaka, hammering out a general plan on what to do next. Now that they had recovered their pilots, they could play a much more active role in supressing the war... once the pilots had a few days or a week off to recuperate from their ordeals of course. They had the time to spare... it would be a miracle of the highest order if either ZAFT or the EA could even think about mobilizing an offensive operation for at least a month. Kisaka revealed to Murrue and Waltfeld the news from the resistance movement he had set up in Orb before leaving for the Kusanagi... a huge peace protest was being planned to occur in Orb in the next few weeks. The projected goal was a ten million person march and sit in on the Orb Government plaza... completely peaceful of course. Barely a few hours past the end of the Third Battle of Carpentaria more than fifty organizations representing more than six million people around the world had already agreed to the protest. If things kept up like this, they might have to revise the plan a little... only so many people could fit into the Orb Government plaza, after all. The warship commander's weren't the only people working late into the night... maintenance and repair crews on both warships worked rotating shifts in order to fix up the ships and the Liberty as quickly as possible. The current threat level may have been small, but no one wanted to take any chances all the same... their position was too precarious.

For the first two weeks after the Third Battle of Carpentaria, the world stage stayed empty and inactive. All sides were hunkering down, regrouping and healing up behind the strongest defenses they could muster. The Earth Alliance had lost more than four hundred mobile suits, six hundred and thirty plus fighter-bombers, thirty plus Skygraspers, dozens of warships and transports and more than eighty five thousand soldiers all told, in just that one battle. Barely a fourth of the initial attacking forces were left to limp back to Orb... those with the least casualties were the Orb Defense forces themselves, which made the citizenry of the island nation happier, at least. A good tenth of the entire terrestrial Alliance forces were just plain gone. Up in space, with the near total loss of the Twelth Lunar Fleet, the EA space forces had lost fifteen percent of their combat capable ships in one blow... a staggering amount not surpassed since the loss of the 8th fleet or the destruction of the Ptolmaus base. The Earth Alliance casualties did not stop there... though the additional losses never made their way into any news report on either side... the only people that noted these almost equally staggering losses were the highest members of Blue Cosmos. JIHAD, the manufacturing and research heart of Blue Cosmos, was little more than a ruin. The independent Crusader production line was slag... the specialized Gundam production lines were twisted wreckage... and the BCPU program was buried under thousands of tons of seared stone. Fortunately, much of the data on the designs and projects at JIHAD was backed up in Asmodeus's central computer system at CWM headquarters in the Rocky Mountains... but data by itself did little good without the technicians and scientists and facilities to utilize that data. Looking at it from a business standpoint, the entire venture was a write off... a one hundred twenty billion dollar write off mark in the red column. Of course there were secondary projects... Cervantes wasn't stupid enough to place all his eggs in one basket... but the goose that laid the golden eggs was dead and his backup projects were more than a year from becoming even slightly productive. He was not happy. To put it very lightly.

The three remaining BCPU's recovered in Panama while the EA struggled to get back onto its feet. Ashino was hurt the least and he bounced back after only a day or two of rest. He was kept busy while his two compatriots recovered by running endless escort patrols around Panama and any other area that looked especially vulnerable at the moment. They were mind numbing exercises... ZAFT wasn't going to attack so soon... but they gave him plenty of time to think. To think and research and plan and think some more. Ashino didn't want to be a part of the EA any more... well, he didn't want to be a part of Blue Cosmos any more... his burgeoning philosophies and the organizations did not mesh... the Coordinator was the enemy... but genocide was not the answer. He found comfort and a kindred spirit on one online forum... actually a front forum for a Blue Cosmos web community... this writer, named Sai Argyle, was apparently someone pretty important, judging from how everyone flattered him at every chance they got. But his message had some real substance to it. Like Ashino himself, Sai did not want to kill all the Coordinators. He wanted to win the war and then force a treaty on them... an Isolation treaty. Humans would remain on the moon and on the Earth for their population centers... the Coordinators would have their PLANTS in space. There would be no contact between the races... this would require a massive peacekeeping force and defensive installations to be built, but it was not unfeasible... only by maintaining no contact would war and conflict be avoided. Ashino liked that... it had a few holes... like what the Naturals would do for resources once the Moon and Earth started running low... but overall he felt much the same way... why waste the effort killing the Coordinators when you could just send them away and ignore them... everyone would be happier. Ashino started putting some serious thought into how he might slip away and meet with this Sai... unfortunatly, his conditioning kept getting in the way and he couldn't find a loophole that would let him desert, no mater how hard he tried.

Cray took longer to recover, but recover he did... much faster than a Natural would of course. There was tell tale scarring from the burns... he was marked for life... but most of them were hidden by clothing or his flight suit... and Cray had never really relied on his looks anyway. When he wanted a girl he took her by force... that was his way... there was no wooing or courting with looks involved. This was a practice the first three nurses assigned to him had cause to regret... the first two committed suicide, their minds destroyed by his warped desires... the third was consigned to a mental hospital in a drug induced coma in order to kepp her from a similar fate. Cray was assigned only male caretakers after that... he'd become... eviller... during his injuring. He was becoming obsessed with revenge... revenge on Kira... revenge on Ysak... revenge on everyone who'd killed the Doc. The Merciless was given first repair priority and was actually ready to go, fully restored, before Cray was even allowed to leave the hospital for the first time. Cray spent his days after recovering alone, muttering hate laden phrases to himself and breaking small objects in his hands in order to keep himself still and less than homicidal. Frost took the longest to recover... his hair had mostly grown back by the time he first opened his eyes again. He too was scarred for life... most noticably on his right foot, which was clothed almost entirely in plastic synthetic flesh that felt real enough, but was always a bit cold, clammy and slightly off color. He wore thick boots most of the time, so it was not readily apparent. Frost did not mutter to himself... he did not break objects... he didn't even kill people... which was more than a little surprising to Ashino and Cray, who both commented on his placidity. He ignored them too... his mind was on other things. Bigger things. Mainly, his destiny and how he was going to bring it to fruition. The time was not yet right for him to break his so called shackles... he didn't have the power or the position to fufill his dreams just yet. But he was getting there... his keen mind had caught on something Ashino had let slip in passing... that the completed if disassembled Judgment was likely intact in the ruins of JIHAD somewhere... if it could be recovered that would boost his power significantly... he'd make sure he was chosen to be the pilot... even if he had to kill the others to be sure.

Up in space, BoranderCorp was rewarded with two huge new military contracts... one for a massive production run of Elementals and their support technologies and the other a continuation endorsement for the Pulsar project. BoranderCorp was publicaly thanked for its contributions to the wellfare of the PLANTS by high ranked ZAFT officials and the company's stock soared to ever greater heights... within the first week BoranderCorp profits and sales were totalling almost ten percent of the total PLANT economy. Maius City production facilities went into overtime shifts, round the clock producing Efreet's, Grendel's and the new Elemental's at the rate of more than twenty mobile suits of each type per day. ZAFT losses at Carpentaria had amounted to two hundred ninety seven land and air based mobile suits, four Nazca class warships, thirty two submersible mobile suits, one submarine carrier and almost eighty five percent of the total Oceania Union forces. The air and fleet facilities at Carpentaria were completely devastated and would be under reconstruction for months. Oceania Union civilian casualties were still being counted at the end of the first two weeks... the number was already more than thirty five million civilians dead in the nuclear firestorms. Tens of thousands more were already showing signs of extensive radiation exposure and sickness... what sort of effects this would have on the future of the Oceania Union were unknown, but dire in any observation. Medical aid was rushed down from the PLANTS... but the few thousand doctors and support personnel sent were lost like dust motes in a desert admist the calamity in Australia. All was not gloom and death though... indeed, in some of the Maius cities there was an almost festival air, even though people were working around the clock in many cases. Jeremiah Borander was declared to be the pilot of the wondrous mobile suit that had saved the Maius cities by physically catching two nuclear missiles and overwhelming their momentum. He was awarded a second Order of the Nebula... the first time such a thing had occured... and offered a cushy promotion to the general staff, which he declined politely, stating in a public address that he felt his destiny was out on the front lines, serving his people the best way he knew how. Jeremiah could not go out in public without being swarmed by the media and hundreds if not thousands of grateful civilians. He had become overnight the next biggest hero since Rau Le Creuste, Athrun Zala, or even, sacrilege of sacrileges, Lacus Clyne.

In truth, Jeremiah was glad for the public attention... but only inasmuch as it allowed him to gather even more funding to pour into the Pulsar development. He took Noah with him whenever he went... for some reason his nephew always seemed to be about whenever he was about to go somewhere, and Jeremiah always found himself letting the boy tag along. It wasn't like Noah was bad for publicity... on the contrary, he drew a few crowds himself. And Noah was rapidly becoming Jeremiah's go to source for ideas and information on the Pulsar... he had a design team of course, and there was also George's design team... but Noah was smarter than all of them. His ideas always seemed so... worthy and Jeremiah couldn't help but smile and ruffle his nephew's hair fondly whenever he came up with a good idea... even though Noah obviously detested having his hair ruffled. Jeremiah noticed several times that large portions of his private fundraising were actually being diverted from the Pulsar project coffers... to where he never could figure out... whenever he got to thinking about it, Noah would always come around and suggest some new good idea and Jeremiah would forget about the whole thing until he once again noticed something wrong with the project account books. The grant from the government and the not insubstantial donations from private foundations fueled a furious upgrading and refitting of the Pulsar... by the end of the first two weeks almost all the weapon systems had not only been designed but the first models were already created and being installed. All that was left to finalize the Pulsar prototype were a few odds and ends... tweaks mostly. Jeremiah looked at the combat specs at least once or twice a day and always found himself shaking his head in admiration. He could barely wait to go out on another test run. Because of it's extreme mobility and speed, Noah and Jeremiah had decided to focus primarily on melee and short ranged combat. The relatively smaller size of the melee weapons also helped reduce the amount of cooling required to operate them... in fact one weapon system even helped cool the Pulsar down as it was used.

The primary weapon of the upgraded Pulsar was a twenty meter long double edged anti-ship beam sword, much like a larger and double edged version of the sword carried by the Sword Strike. The sword featured both physical blades and activatable beam edges, allowing use both above and below water. The sword was heavy and would have been very unwieldy for most mobile suits... the blade was actually taller than the Pulsar was... but with the NIC system controls Jeremiah could wield it just like any other sword... which was far better than any mobile suit could hope to be. The secondary weapon system of the Pulsar was mounted in each wrist, actually extending up into a forearm storage unit that blended with the shape of the arm when not in use. When activated, a twenty five meter chain of half meter long triangular shaped metal links deployed from each wrist and forearm, by itself they were formidable weapons, capable of crushing armor like old fashioned flails (think the chain used by the Epyon in Gundam Wing, which is the inspiration). But the chain links were directly connected by conductors to the FPR cooling systems... the conducted heat caused the "heat whips" to glow cherry-red to white hot, enabling them to melt through even Phase Shift armor like soft cheese. Jeremiah had never wielded weapons like them before, certainly not two at a time, but Noah had programmed a workable subroutine into the NIC that at least kept him from hitting himself with them. Third in line for weapon systems, and the last in the line of melee weaponry, were five fold out mono-molecular claws, mounted one to a finger on each hand. Sharper and stronger than the swords and knives carried by early ZAFT mobile suits, the claws were each as long as the mobile suit's finger and could carve through anything short of phase shift armor with ease. The single ranged weapon was something of a peculiarity... it wasn't a hyper impulse cannon, railgun or beam rifle... no, it was railgun like, in that it used magnetic forces to propel its projectiles, but what it fired were rockets with beam sabers on their tips... it was more a beam crossbow than anything else. The Pulsar carried a quiver of twenty bolts for this weapon... clearly not a primary mode of attack. Finally, the last addition was defensive in nature... a result of Noah's own personal research into nanotechnology. A self repair system. It worked off ambient energy and heat from the FPR... slowly converting elements out of the surrounding space dust or atmosphere into hull material and other substances used to fix any damage the Pulsar might suffer. As long as the mobile suit remained operable and the torso area was intact, given enough time, the repair system could completely rebuild the mobile suit on its own... a process which would take more than a month... but it was still a fantastic accomplishment.

In Hawaii, Sai was having a few... women problems. He and Vanai had gotten along fine for the first week after their marriage. Well, maybe that wasn't saying much, considering the only time they left the bedroom was to eat or use the bathroom. But after that... excess... Sai had needed some time to himself. He'd finally managed to get a good look at the Third Battle of Carpentaria and he'd been horrified... the nuking of civilians was beyond countenance... beyond the remit of forgiveness. He was so incensed that he used his seldom utilized influence in the darker areas of Blue Cosmos to find out who ordered the firing of the missiles. When he got the answer, he found it surprised him more than it probably should have. He got along well enough with his father in law... but their ideals were just not on the same level. Sai was a sworn, card carrying member of Blue Cosmos... he did NOT like Coordinators. A few in particular he had extreme loathing for, but as a people they also sent shivers up and down his spine. But despite that, he didn't want to wipe them out... he didn't want to kill them all just because they were potentially smarter and tougher and faster and stronger. He just wanted them... out. Like a bad tenant or squatter... you didn't want to hurt them... but they couldn't be allowed to stay either. So what did you do... you called the police and had them evicted... you didn't buy an assualt rifle and gun them down in cold blood while their backs were turned. He published his views on the nets and found he had more than modest support... a lot of people were sick and tired of the war and appalled at the nuclear devastation wrought so pointlessly in Australia... Blue Cosmos members who had joined after Pearl Harbor or who were just not quite as fanatical as they had thought now that they could see the burnt cities for themselves... they were all very supportive of his views... his "Isolation Plan". He'd done a few calculations... nearly forty percent of Blue Cosmos looked more willing to support him than Cervantes. It was a heady feeling.

Basically the Isolation plan required four things. The first was a strong, centrally directed and commanded military and logistical force, which would remove all Coordinators from the Earth... dead or preferrably alive. Tactics would include direct military assualts upon military targets, and the compensated relocation of Coordinator citizens back to the PLANTS... expensive, but not even fractionally as much as the war. The second phase of the plan required the cessation of all hostilities once the Earth had been purged of Coordinators and their supporters, and the same accomplished for the Moon and close Earth orbit. During this phase a series of permanent treaties dividing up the solar system into Natural and Coordinator areas would either be hammered out or force fed to the Coordinators... preferring the diplomatic approach of course, since if the talks broke down, enforcing the Isolation would become that much harder. After stage two was complete, stage three would entail the construction and maintainence of a large peacekeeping/policing force that would maintain the Isolation... in both directions. No Naturals would go into Coordinator areas... no Coordinators would venture into Natural areas... the Coordinators would have much of space... the Natural's Earth, the Moon and a few other places. The construction of a permanent "Space Age Great Wall" would be mandated to prevent direct contact between the two races. All military buildup on both sides would be strictly regulated to purely defensive, static measures. With a strong enough defense, even if the other side used WMD's, you would likely still be victorious, as ZAFT had just proved at Carpentaria. The fourth and final step would be the construction of a new society... a purely Natural society on a blue and pure world. Sai acknowledged that his plan would not be easy to implement in its pure state... the temptation to use the military force or the peacekeepers to finish the war once and for all would be strong indeed... but with enough willpower and morality in the leaders of both sides... he believed it was more than just possible, but very workable.

Of course, the morality and willpower to resist temptation was currently the problem. As far as he could tell, his father in law lacked significantly in both categories... and while Cervantes was publicly just a highly placed figure in the Defense Ministry, Sai wasn't stupid... to be able to authorize the deployment of Nuclear weaponry on Earth, his father in law had to be the one really pulling the strings behind the EA military, if not the EA as a whole. He'd made the mistake of trying to enlist Vanai's help in order to present his views to Cervantes. Yeah... that had backfired. Badly. He'd been forced to physically flee the house while she raged at him and threw whatever she could get her hands on at him to punctuate her feelings. Vanai was very serious about Blue Cosmos... she had been raised in the organization... she'd been friends with the Azrael family and she had idolized her father all her life. Oh, sure, they had the standard father-daughter disagreements on a lot of things... boyfriends and sex and all that sort of stuff... but when it came down to it, she believed in her father and his goals for the world wholeheartedly. She'd thought Sai did too, after all he had suffered personally at Kira's and Athrun's hands. But Sai didn't let his personal hatreds taint his perspective on Coordinators as a whole... sure, he wouldn't mind finding a few of them facedown in the gutter with a hole in their heads, but not so for the children and mothers and elderly people up in the PLANTS. Vanai did not speak to him or let him into the bedroom for two whole days afterwards... days he actually spent rather productively, engaging in political debate with the members of his bodyguard unit... now that he knew the tricks for finding them. Having "appropriated" a thermal imaging detector prototype out of his own research facility had helped quite a bit... while he "home tested" the device, he could cut through the most sophisticated visual camouflage the Hellhound team could devise with the punch of a button... much to their disgruntlement. Some of them still managed to elude him... like Sergeant Major Glory and the Lieutenant... but the majority he was getting rather proficient at finding, even without the help of his sensor... he took lots of long exploratory walks around the private island and he was starting to get to know the signs of a blind or observation post.

Sai had found that all the members of the Hellhound team were not only quite talkative and literate, but very politically and technoloigcally astute as well. He was surprised to learn that this was required of them by Asmodeus, who saw little point in having an elite unit which did not understand the world they operated in to the fullest extent possible. He presented his Isolation Plan to them and found himself with more than a few tough arguments... they were soldiers, first and foremost... building up forces to them meant you were going to use them to attack, not defend. He countered that by pointing out that what then was the purpose of them bodyguarding him... surely they'd be more useful on the front line. Unless keeping him isolated from any threats was in fact more important than helping win the war. They were already serving as a modified third phase of his plan... keep the opposing forces seperate, but don't attack unless attacked, and even then only respond with enough force to dissuade further attacks. After every debate they always told him that he needed to talk to the Lieutenant... while they may have been partially convinced, they would wait for him to call it good or bad... he was the most astute of all of them in matters political. Sai had been dreading that debate for days... but when it finally came it was actually the easiest of them all. He'd been walking aimlesly through the forest, trying to figure out what sort of present would at least thaw the ice wall Vanai had thrown up against him, when the Lieutenant... Cyprus Finch, Sai forced himself to use the man's name... stepped casually out from behind a tree and cleared his throat. Sai had jumped... he'd been checking the sensor periodically and hadn't even gotten a hint of the man's presence... but of course, the Lieutenant was the Lieutenant, as his squad always said... best not to wonder... just believe.

"So... you think you've figured out a better way to fight and end this war?" Cyprus had asked him, eyes steadily on him, voice as dry and inflectionless as it always was.

"Yes, I do." Sai had replied, somewhat self consciously... this wasn't starting the way he had thought it would. He started to launch into his argument but Cyrpus simply held up a hand for quiet.

"Look me in eyes, Sai." Cyrpus said, a mote of command entering his voice. "Look me straight in the eyes and tell me without looking away that you believe your way is better than the current method." Sai had met Cyprus's gaze... and found he could barely breath... the stare was so intense... normally the Lieutenant was barely any presence at all... now that he was looking him directly in the eyes at arms length, he seemed to expand and fill the forest like a giant.

"I..." Sai gulped and forced himself to focus. He poured some fire into his own gaze and squared his shoulders. "My way is the only feasible method... a war of annihilation is all we currently have... I refuse to allow such an abomination to be executed. I have a better method. My Isolation plan..." the Lieutenant held up his hand for quiet again, cutting him off. Cyprus let him hang there for almost a minute, maintaining the gaze. Finally, he nodded, ever so slightly.

"I believe you. You've talked the particulars over with my men... I've discussed it with them... we'll need to work on the details a little bit... but, you have my support, sir. You have all of our support... Hellhound Team Alpha is yours to the core."

"Just like that?" Sai asked, almost afraid it was a dream. Cyprus smiled... actually smiled.

"You'd be surprised how very few people have been able to meet my direct gaze and declare their conviction like you did. Just about the only person besides you who has ever done so is Captain Asmodeus Sark. And that's one of the major reasons why I used to allow him to be my boss. But Asmodeus is no longer the man he used to be... he's been corrupted by his work for Cervantes... your father in law. I no longer believe he could restate his convictions and still meet my eyes... not after Carpentaria."

"Well... thanks, I guess. This didn't quite happen the way I thought it would. Now what am I supposed to do? I had this whole argument planned out!" Sai said, feeling odd footed.

"No plan survives contact with the enemy. Or with your allies either, all to often. This isn't going to be easy, sir... I've known Cervantes Zunnichi and Asmodeus Sark for a long time... most of my career. Neither of them will deal lightly with what they will see as a betrayal." The Lieutenant said firmly.

"I couldn't give less of a damn what my genocidal father in law and his henchman feel about this... we're talking about the future of the entire human race here... both Naturals AND Coordinators. If they're going to be shortsighted about this... then, to me, that just proves how unsuited they are for governing the fate of the world." Sai retorted instantly. "In truth, it wouldn't have mattered to me if you yourself didn't approve of my plan... I half thought you wouldn't, actually. I believe my Isolation Plan is just about the only thing that can ensure lasting peace, short of a divine miracle... and with or without the approval of the people around me, I will do all I can to show the world how to save itself." Sai paused. "Of course, I'd strongly desire the approval of the people I consider friends... You... Mr. Glory... the rest of team Alpha...Vanai... especially Vanai. I think she knows I'm in the right... its just very hard for her to go back against the rest of her life... she's always looked up to her father, just like I looked up to mine. She's so... young... I guess... that makes it hard. And I know, I'm not that much older than her."

"Not in years, no. Otherwise... there's a reason I call you sir, sir." The Lieutenant replied. He slowly melted backwards into the undergrowth. "Don't worry about the little stuff, sir... me and mine will take care of the everyday, while you focus on the grand scale." Sai blinked a few times and found he'd lost track of the Lieutenant behind a bush and now the man was nowhere to be seen. "And Vanai has always been fond of blue roses..." Sai forced himself not to jump at the whisper that came inexplicably from behind him. A bouquet of vibrant blue roses dropped neatly to the ground at his feet from the trees above. Sai grinned and shook his head... he doubted he'd ever figure out Cyprus. He shrugged and picked up the bouquet, a real smile crawling across his face for the first time in days... maybe this would work out okay after all. He set his path to make a beeline back to the house... why waste an opportunity?

Back aboard the Archangel and Kusanagi, things were... bittersweet, to use an euphanism. Kira, Lacus, Athrun, Cagalli and all the rest were recovering quicly enough from their injuries... faster from the physical wounds than the mental. It was a time for a lot of tears and rages and the desire to be left alone... but it was also a time of unprecedented closeness and camraderie... and often more than just camraderie. The crew of the Archangel quickly learned a few quick lessons in polite discretion and many acquired the ability to spontaneously ignore what the military called "public display's of affection" with a frown. Those who didn't and made a big deal about it often found themselves the subjects of a quiet talking to from either a member of TEMPEST... or once, more frightening still, from Commander Waltfeld. More than one little conference was never required. In truth, many members of the crew were more than approving of the "kids" as they were called... even though some members of the crew weren't all that much older than Dearka or Ysak. The crews were fully aware of just how difficult the jobs of the kids were and the magnitude of what they sacrificed for the world... the rumor mill was grinding twenty four seven with tales of what they had suffered in the Blue Cosmos facilities... and the rumors barely even scratched the true surface of that tragedy. It wasn't uncommon for an older member of the crew... someone who'd served on the Archangel or Kusanagi during the last war, like Chief Murdoch, to get a tear or two in their eyes whenever they passed one or a couple of the "kids" standing on the outdoor observation deck or performing some task in the hanger bay.

Kira and Lacus recovered the quickest... neither had been all that badly injured, at least compared to their friends. And as much as they liked to lie around all day in their room, not worrying about the world as a whole, both knew it wouldn't last very long... neither could stand to keep the world on hold for long. It wasn't in their nature to be still when the world still very badly needed their help. On the fourth day after Kira came back from the battlefield they both got out of bed at almost the same moment and got dressed... with hardly a word between them. There was little need for words between them... they each knew what the other was going to do... and they both knew they'd be there to back each other up when necessary. Kira spent a lot of time in the hanger, with the Liberty, tuning it back up to his most exacting standards and doing simulation runs... endless simulation runs. It became a favorite activity of off duty hanger crew to watch these simulations... they even hooked up a projector screen to the Liberty's combat computer so that a whole crowd of them could watch at once. Lacus's work was less physical but of far more reaching importance. After being informed of the peace gathering in Orb by Kisaka and Murrue, she spent almost all her days in the communications center, taking and making endless calls to her supporters both on Earth and in the PLANTS. She'd decided that she was going to give another performance, especially for the planned peace protest... live or recorded she had yet to decide. She'd also appointed herself as something of an emotional counsler for not only her friends, but any member of the crew who was having problems dealing with the war... everyone was stressed, not just her friends. This proved to be a wildly popular move... unlike standard military ships, the Archangel was crewed by volunteers... they had no guidance counseler positions per se. A lot of the crew had stress problems, and hadn't had anyone to speak them to... to cry with, as it came down to sometimes. And everyone trusted Lacus implicitly... it was almost impossible not to... to think of her betraying your trust was more painful than a heart attack and as ludicrous as gravity suddenly switching directions. For all that, some of her counseling was less well received by some than others. Athrun and Cagalli were both usually willing to talk, but they never brought up any deep issues. Dearka and Miriallia were a little more open, but both were still distant. Ysak and Katie never even showed up at all, to any invited appointments.

Athrun's injuries took almost a week and a half to heal... faster than the doctors expected, but still far too slowly for his taste. The moment they took the cast on his healed hand off he almost broke it again, slamming it against a wall in frustration when they told him he should still spend a few more days in bed to be sure. As soon as the doctors left he was of course up and out of bed, getting dressed. Cagalli had smirked... in truth she was tired of being cooped up in the room with him too... if he'd healed even a day slower she probably would have felt compelled to just toss him out and tell him to get better on his own. Athrun immediately set himself to the task of getting back into shape after his convalesence... he felt slow and uncoordinated from spending so long lying in only a select few positions. Well... maybe more than a few select positions... Cagalli tended to forget in... heated moments... that he wasn't supposed to be fully mobile. And who was he to deny her? Cagalli initially tagged along with him out of boredom, but after getting run to exhaustion after the first few hours of each exercise program, and bored with the endless repititions, she then started to only show up for the first hour or so, then wandered off to do her own thing... after warning him sternly each time not to exhaust himself to much... for her own reasons. She and Athrun were the cause of the most discomfort to the crew... she couldn't help it... her emotions just seemed to burn a lot closer to the surface than they did in others... and the same for Athrun, though he'd built up a lot more self control than her. Strangely though, that self control had a funny way of excusing itself for a leave of absence whenever she whispered just so in his ear and cuddled up just right against his side... which led to the aforementioned uncomfortable moments for the people around them. When she wasn't causing scenes or wandering around, poking into other people's business to see if they were up to anything interesting, Cagalli likewise spent a lot of time with Lacus in the communications room. She was gladdened to learn of the Orb resistance Kisaka had organized, and spent much time talking with its leaders, including Erica Simmons. she learned that far from eliminating her popularity in Orb, Cervantes's rule had brought about a total resurgence... the people were waiting for the return of their princess eagerly. Her relationship with Athrun was mostly glossed over, but Cagalli tried not to let that bother her... explaining that to the public would take a lot of work and tact and time she currently couldn't spare, so she let sleeping beasts lie. She tried to help Lacus out with the guidance counseling, but she had a few problems. For one thing, anyone from Orb... i.e. more than half the crew... had real difficulty talking to her, their heriditary ruler, in a personal way. Second, while she was understanding and could be compassionate, she was also far more likely to shout and yell and make people uncomfortable with sharing personal matters with her... she wasn't afraid to call something stupid, even when it actually meant a lot to someone.

Dearka and Miriallia took the big step to round home plate at long last. It happened the second night after they both woke up after falling into exhausted slumber in the sick bay of the Archangel. It wasn't a planned or intentional thing... like many such events in the lives of teenage couples, deeply in love, it just sort of happened. One moment the standard kissing and cuddling... the next, clothes are all over the floor and one thing leads to another. Afterwards they lay side by side and stared up at the ceiling together until they both fell asleep. They next morning they both woke in something of a shock... but not the bad sort, like you get when you wake up from a blackout. In truth, they were both surprised they'd waited as long as they had... contrary to some belief, it wasn't something to be afraid of... it didn't change their relationship in a negative way... it actually helped provide a conduit for purging their emotional stress, which had risen to overwhelming levels for both of them without them quite realizing it. They didn't talk about it to any of their friends and it would have stayed private too if Cagalli hadn't accidently stopped by their room and pulled an "Ysak" by opening the door and sticking her head in to enquire why they weren't up yet. Bed plus couple minus bedsheet minus clothing can really only mean one or two things... and Cagalli felt she could safely discount the possibility of a tanning booth being secretly built into the bed. And while Cagalli would never trumpet the news about... well, not if her friends would be offended by it anyway... she also couldn't keep a juicy secret to save her life... much like Dearka himself, who was disgruntled to find himself on the opposite end of the rumor mill for once... maybe Ysak was right to get pissed at him sometimes, if this was what it was like. Miriallia handled the inevitable questions from her friends with the dignity and grace such a situation demanded... she played coy for about ten minutes and then was convinced to spill her guts. Which of course didn't help Dearka's rumor situation at all. Ysak took no end of enjoyment in needling his friend about the somewhat wild and crazy rumors... one of the few activites which actually brought a smile to Ysak's face after he got back.

Ysak had moved into Katie's room without a single comment, the moment she'd asked him to. Nobody had said anything... one look at either of them had been more than enough to convince any onlooker that this wasn't just a girlfriend looking for nooky... this was something serious, planned out and likely necessary for several people's well being. Initially there were a few rumors about what they might be up to... inevitable on a warship. Such rumors died like a man shot in the head when an unwise crewman made a snide remark within the hearing of both Ysak AND Katie. The poor guy suffered no permanent injuries, but while he was recuperating from two dislocated shoulders and a sprained neck, Vladimir paid him a midnight visit. The next morning there were no visible marks on the man... but from then on whenever he saw Ysak, Katie or Vlad he just turned pale and trembled and quickly left the area. The rumors died and no one brought up any scandalous ruminations while ANY of the kids or TEMPEST members were around... just to be sure. Ysak had recovered very quickly... faster even than Kira, since his injuries were mostly emotional and exhaustion related. Katie did not recover as fast, being a Natural, but given that she was in top condition for a Natural, she didn't spend long in bed either. But as quickly as they physically became active again, it was plain to see that their emotions were still a hideous mess. Katie was well known for being the mischevious, light hearted practical joker type... the kind of girl who could walk into a biker bar and give insults as well as she got them, or would grease the floor under your rack and get a picture of you falling when you got up. After she returned from JIHAD without Chanel, she barely even smiled any more... she became noncommunicative and withdrawn, though not inactive. Quite the opposite in fact... she spent hours and hours on the pistol practice range and in the gyms, working out her feelings as best she could on the equipment. It didn't help much, because not only was she coming to terms with the loss of someone who had almost been like her other half, but because due to Chanel's death, she'd been using a lot more of her Newtype powers as of late... not something she was fully comfortable with. Her powers were stronger than they used to be... and not just because they grew stronger with practice. Just like Ysak, she'd been changed a bit by being in her sister's head at the time of her death... it wasn't the first, or even the fifth Newtype death Echo Katie had ever heard... but it was the only one that had swept throuh her like a tide of fire and light like Chanel's had. It was like she'd absorbed a portion of her sister's power and memories somehow... just like Ysak had been changed into a Latent by his absorbtion of some of the Echo. That was another of the ticklish things they were dealing with right now... Ysak was very uncomfortable with Newtype powers, especially telepathy, while of course Katie was used to holding conversations on two levels, one out loud and the other mental, like she and Chanel always had.

While Katie had become more withdrawn, introspective and... intense... for lack of a better word, Ysak... who was already like that in a lot of respects... became grim. It was like a cloud of gloom and repressed anger than hung around him almost visibly. When he walked into a room, conversations automatically got quieter and people turned a wary eye to watch him... even though the conversations at hand had nothing to do with him. It was widely acknowledged that the pale haired and blue eyed Coordinator with the scar had become a ticking emotional time bomb... a time bomb no one knew how long had left on the timer. Nobody knew what would happen if and when Ysak snapped under the pressure of his grief and rage and... to be honest... hate. Lacus had tried to talk to him, to get him to open up a bit as the first step to recoverying his emotional balance. He'd brushed her off... politely, but very firmly, so much that not even Lacus could mistake the fact that he DID NOT want to talk about it. Not to her anyway. If he was talking to Katie about it, they kept it in strictest of confidence... she also politely but firmly kept Lacus at arms length. Kira had decided that maybe Ysak... who'd always had a somewhat funny perspective on girls and emotional openness... might open up better to a guy. Dearka had gotten wind of this and had told Kira not to be an idiot... Dearka had known him longer than anyone... Ysak was far less likely to open up to a guy than a girl... as for opening up to one of them... not going to happen. Kira had agreed... but said he had to try anyway, because it wouldn't be right as a friend to let Ysak continue stewing like this without even trying to help. Kira had confronted Ysak down in the hanger, after Ysak had spent about three hours tinkering around with the Duelist and flying some combat simulations of his own. At the time of the confrontation, Chanel's formal funeral ceremony was still two days away... Murrue hadn't been able to do much, but she'd been able to put together a formal military funeral, which was greatly appreciated by all.

"Hey... Ysak... you got a moment?" Kira asked, appearing from behind the pillar he'd been using as visual cover while Ysak worked. Ysak was just headed back towards the pilot changing room to organize his locker before heading to the gym for a joint martial arts session with Katie. Ysak glanced at him out of the corner of one eye... one hand trembled slightly... and he just kept walking. Undeterred, Kira had quickstepped up to where he was walking just behind Ysak. "Come on, Ysak... I know we've never been good friends... but we're all worried about you. The grief is eating you alive... I know what it's like... I lost someone I loved during the last war... she was helpless too... murdered by Rau Le Cruesete right in front of my eyes while I was unable to stop him. I know you aren't big on sharing how you feel... but there's no reason you can't at least talk to one of us about it... its not like we're going to make hurtful comments or anything... I won't even speak if you don't want me to. I know theres a mess inside your head and I want to help you clean it up... for your sake... and everyone elses too."

"You want me to tell you how I feel?" Ysak asked, his voice calm, his features neutral as he looked over his shoulder. He stopped walking and so did Kira. Ysak slowly turned. "I suppose I can do that. Thanks for asking."

"It's what friends are fo..." Kira started to say, cocking his head to the side with a slight smile. Or thats what he tried to do... Ysak sort of messed that up by planting a right hook right into his belly, hard enough to completely knock the breath out of him. "Ahhgy?" Kira gasped, confused. Ysak didn't give him time to recover, bringing his left hand around in a cross to Kira's jaw, snapping his head back spraying small drops of blood from crushed lips. Ysak kept the pressure on with a kick to Kira's left shin that made the entire limb go numb and useless. Kira started collapsing over towards that side but Ysak caught him by the neck and slammed him back against the wall, actually lifting the shorter Coordinator onto the tips of his toes by his neck.

"I've been meaning to do that for a while. Ever since you convinced us to go to that damn wedding." Ysak snarled, low and breathy, his face inches from Kira's. "And since you so politely offered... please... don't speak. If you do I don't know if I can restrain myself from shutting you up... by force. I trusted you Kira... hell, I still do... you're a good person. Too good a person. Your friend went missing after the Blue Cosmos attack in Switzerland... but you never thought anything of it when you saw him again... never thought that maybe he survived the trap by betraying the rest of us... going to his wedding... it was pure idiocy. Pure... trusting... childish... idiocy. You may be a terror on the battlefield... but honestly, it surprises me constantly what a moron you are in regular life. I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised... you're with Lacus Clyne after all... anybody who can get along as closely with her as you do would have to be a little detached from the usual views of the world people generally have. I don't blame you for your worldview though. No... I blame you because you enforce that worldview on other people... maybe not intentionally, but you're a leader, Kira. One a great many people respect... one I respect. When you make a decision... it has a lot of meaning... a lot of reprecussions. And your choice to go to your friend's wedding... I think it was just a bad choice, made in haste, fueled by your too trusting nature. And because of your choice and the limits of the situation at hand, Katie, Chanel and I came along to your friends wedding. Where we were captured by Blue Cosmos in a well laid trap that we might have uncovered if you hadn't been so trusting of Sai's good intentions. I lost a third of my heart in that place... Kira. What would you have done if Lacus had been the one to get executed? No... don't speak..." Ysak squeezed Kira's windpipe closed to prevent him from interrupting. "I know it isn't a fair question... how can someone say what they would have done in someone else place, given they haven't suffered the same? But bear this in mind when you speak to me in the future, Kira. How would you be to me if I caused Lacus's death... indirectly or not, as the result of a bad, hasty choice? Just like the soldiers back in the desert... you may not have pulled the triggers that killed them... but they died because of you all the same. That's two screwups you made because you let your emotions and trusting nature get the better of your judgment. I don't know if I'll allow you to survive a third strike. Do you understand me, Kira? I don't want to be enemies... we're on the same side, after all, fighting for the same thing. But don't for an instant think I'm not watching you... I'm not going to let anyone else get hurt like I did because of your flexible common sense. You're a good person... one of the best I've ever known... but you can be a serious danger to the people close to you... just like Lacus and Cagalli and Athrun are. Think on that for me... that's all I want." Ysak slowly let go of Kira's neck and turned away.

Kira let him get about halfway down the hall before he called after him. "I'll think on that, Ysak. You should think on this. You're not the only person who's ever lost someone you love. Me... I lost Flay. Lacus lost her father, as did Athrun and Cagalli. Mir lost Tolle. It hurts... it makes it feel like the world will never be the same again. And it won't be... but it doesn't necessarily mean the world has become a terrible place. The world is just the world... you shouldn't let tragedy ruin your life forever. If you do... you run the risk of becoming just like Asmodeus and Cervantes and all the people who perpetuate these wars. I don't want you to forget Chanel... but I don't want you to become a destroyer in her name either." Ysak stopped for a moment, but did not turn. He did not answer, and after a few moments, he continued walking again. Kira did not see Ysak again until the funeral and he did not mention the details of his little talk with Ysak to anyone else... though Lacus figured out that his well intentioned talk had backfired just a little, from his bloody lips if nothing else.

The morning of Chanel's funeral ceremony dawned bright and sunny and clear, the sun rising red as spilt wine. The air was moist and still, not warm but not cold either. There was a static tension in the air... a storm was coming. It wouldn't hit until later in the day, perhaps after dusk, but the meteorologist aboard the Kusanagi predicted a storm at least as powerful as a class one or two hurricane. The ceremony took place in the starboard hanger bay, with the doors open and the launch ramp extended as far as it could. The only people in attendance in the hanger itself were the kids, TEMPEST, Kisaka, Murrue and Waltfeld, while the ceremony was being watched by whatever crew on both ships had time off and an inclination to pay their respects. Which was to say... all of them... the funeral was even being covertly displayed in working areas of the ships... no one intended to miss out on saying farewell to a fellow supporter of peace... after all, if it was them who had died, they'd want their friends to be there for them too. Chanel's body remained in the lower levels of JIHAD... after the Archangel destroyed the base there was no chance of returning to recover her body. Instead, her most prized personal possessions had been loaded into the coffin along with mementoes from nearly everyone in attendance. Of them all, only Ysak and Katie had not contributed an item... and that was because they did not need to... they'd already said their goodbye, in a way, back in the cave. This was only a final confirmation.

Alkire was the first speaker. He stepped up to the podium constructed next to the casket... he opened his mouth but no words would come out. After starting and stopping, unable to say a word, three more times, he stepped back down, tears on his face, eyes downcast. Nobody said anything as he slowly took one more thing from a pocket of his dress uniform... resplendent with more than a doen medals and decorations for achievement and valor... and placed a small gold locket onto the casket, tying its chain around a handle to keep it there. He stepped back two paces and brought his hand up in a parade ground sharp salute. He stepped back and to the side, his features hard as stone as he warred for control of himself. Raine was the next speaker. She too stepped up to the podium and had a little trouble speaking, but after a few tries she found her voice, weak and choked though it may have been.

"Chanel was my little sister. She was my daughter... she was my friend. She was part of the reason why I went out every time... on all those missions. She was part of the reason I came back from those same missions. I'm not one for many words... good bye... little sister. My child. My friend. I know you're in a good place now, wanting for the rest of us to live happy and full lives so that when we join you we'll have no regrets. We all put our lives on the line for the sake of peace and you were called to pay the price for your convictions. You did so with honor, courage and dedication... there's nothing more that can be said. You did good... I'm proud of you... we all are. Thank you for being in our lives as long as you were. May you watch over us and grant us your blessing so that we may end this war as soon as possible. Thank you." Raine stepped back and saluted herself. Lacus stepped up next... she was the final speaker, by request from Ysak and Katie personally, which had somewhat surprised her... they'd kept her at arms length previously, making it quite obvious that she wasn't welcome in their personal matters. But then after Kira's talk with Ysak she'd received an email from them asking her to speak at the funeral... maybe Kira had accomplished something after all.

Lacus looked out at them all... her friends and companions and supporters, all gathered before her here at such a sad event. But despite the circumstances... despite the reason they were gathered here... they were all still with her... all still staunch members of the Clyne Faction, avidly pursuing peace for the world, even at the cost of their own lives. Chanel's death was a horrible, terrible tragedy... but it hadn't broken the resolve of a single person... quite the opposite in fact. It served as a red hot and pointed reminder of what they were all fighting for... the end of senseless death and pain, caused by those too shortsighted and fearful and downright insane to accept that there was a better way. A way that required sacrifice and hardship, yes... but everything required some sacrifice or it really wasn't worth having. Sometimes that sacrifice was hard labor and long working hours. Sometimes it was the life of a loved one, or even your own life. Chanel's death was completely unnessecary and totally avoidable... just like every other senseless death so far in this war. The people in the hanger... and the people throughout both ships... all knew this. Chanel's death may have impacted them personally but it was not a unique tragedy... she was one of millions... and maybe one of millions more if they did not achieve their goals. Lacus sought for the words to tell everyone how she was feeling... what she thought. She couldn't seem to get a speech straight in her head. Frustrated, she opened her mouth anyway. And began to sing. She didn't really pay attention to which song she was singing... she thought it was one of the new one's she'd been working on... "Fields of Hope"... but the words weren't the important part. Lacus focused on using her formerly unconscious newtype powers to convey exactly how she was feeling... grief... pain... love... understanding... gratefulness... all the medly of emotions that made life so complicated yet so worthwhile to live. When she finished the song, she found she'd closed her eyes sometime during the performance... she could feel hot tear tracks on her face... she'd been more than just projecting her emotions... she'd been fueling and stoking them to new heights. She cracked one eye and stared out at the hanger through blurry vision.

Alkire and the members of TEMPEST were still standing, as were Kisaka and Waltfeld... but they were all leaning on something or someone in order to keep themselves upright. The always steadfast and unemotional Kisaka had his face turned down and away as his chest hitched every so often... next to him, Waltfeld was staring off into the distance of the past, unaware of his trembling knees. Murrue was on the floor, weeping openly... her pain was the next freshest of the people here... it always lurked close to the surface and Lacus's song had torn the scab right open. They were good tears though... they didn't hurt... they just released. Mu's sacrifice had not been in vain... not when it had led to here... to this very moment. Vladimir was one of the most affected of all... his eyes were dry but staring and unseeing... plainly he too was lost in memories of the past. He was mumbling somthing repeatedly under his breath... to Lacus it sounded like "Sorry... so sorry... so many... sorry". Her now open eyes next feel on Athrun and Cagalli, who were among the least affected... they were staring at each other and clasping hands so tightly their knucles were white... but they'd both lost fathers to tragedies like this in the last war and they had mostly come to terms with those losses. Dearka and Miriallia were much the same... they'd suffered losses, but they had put them to rest a while ago and while their eyes were by no means dry, they weren't anywhere near as affected as Kisaka or Murrue. Or for that matter, as much as Ysak and Katie were. Katie was on her knees, holding her head in her hands in a mixture of released grief and agony as she struggled to deal with the images she'd inadvertantly picked up from Lacus's emotion infused song before she'd shielded her mind... to a Stump the emotion in the song had been heart pluckingly strong... to Katie, an Active Newtype, it had been like being beaten by hammers of emotional force, in a way stronger than any mental manipulation attack or hallucination she'd ever been the target of before. She was fortunate she knew how to shield her mind or else she might have fainted from the beating.

Ysak was not so fortunate... as a Latent he was dozens of times more sensitive to Lacus's song than even someone as emotionally charged as Murrue or Vladimir. He was gritting his teeth with the effort of stopping the tears he didn't even realize he was already crying. His mind was a whirlwind of grief and anger and confusion and love all blended together and amplified by Lacus's song until he couldn't even figure out what to do besides stand there and quiver. It was perhaps the most painful thing he'd ever experienced, far worse than the scarring of his face. It was also one of the most wonderful feelings he'd ever had... for perhaps the first time in his life he knew exactly what he was feeling, why and what he was going to do with it. He slowly lifted one foot and stepped forward, then repeated the process with the other foot. He staggered along at this pace until he reached the casket. His hand fell on the hande Alkire's locket was tied to. Ysak touched the locket briefly and felt the engraved words on the cover plate... "Welcome to the Family". Ysak did not open the locket... it was not his place to do such a thing. He stepped back after mumbling a few words so low not even Lacus could make them out and touched a control on the nearest wall. With a shriek of escaping steam and the scrape of metal on metal, the casket was launched by the Archangel's mobile suit catapult out of the hanger bay and out into the deep blue sea beyond. "Goodbye." Ysak said, loud enough for everyone to hear him this time. Lacus wasn't paying attention... her eyes were on Kira.

Kira was also a latent... but he'd not been affected to nearly the extent Ysak had been. Well... not at first glance anyway. He'd cried but his eyes were drying even as Lacus first brought her gaze over to him. His fists trembled a little and his face twitched once or twice as he choked back words or exclamations of some sort. But Lacus was looking at him with more than just her eyes now... Katie had taken some time each day... sometimes only ten or fifteen minutes, but usually at least an hour... to teach Lacus what she could about being an Active Newtype and some different ways to use her power. Chanel had seen minds as glowing stars of colored light. Katie saw them as colored cartoon animals when she used her mindsight. Lacus saw the minds of the people around her as stylized representations of that person's character. Or at least thats what she thought she saw... Katie had been less than clear on just what relation the image the mindsight showed you actually had to the person it represented. To her mindsight, Kira appeared dressed in pure white robes with outstretched hands covered in hundreds of bloody welts, a cup of refreshing water in one hand and a gleaming sword in the other; with a kind but sad smile on his face. Lacus was still working out what exactly that represented... Kira was complicated like that... not like Athrun, who was a knight in shining armor, broad shield raised to protect everyone around him... or Dearka, clad in stylish clothing with a mischevious smile on his face and a joker tattooed on his cheek. Right now there were spots of blood seeping through the white cloth of Kira's robes, right over his heart. The blood formed a pattern... the face of Flay Allster, her mouth open in either a cry of joy or scream of hate, Lacus could not decide. She forced herself to just look with normal eyes... she resolved to be much more careful with her songs in the future... she was terribly certain she'd just hurt Kira, entirely without meaning to, bringing to the fore memories that were much better off left buried.

"Goodbye, my love." Ysak said again, staring off into the bloody red rising sun for a moment. "Goodbye."

Author Note: if you haven't already, I'd recommend paying another visit to my personal page... it has a great video on it that shows that us Navy guys really do some crazy shit sometimes. I always enjoy it. Anyway, thanks for the continued reviews. More to come.


	67. Ashino's Day Out

It was just after dusk, on the day of the funeral. The sun was more than ninety percent below the horizon and was only visible as a small sliver of red light that bathed the entire world in pink light. The ocean flared orange in the reflected glow, like it was made from molten metal rather than water. The huge banks of storm clouds closing in from the east were tinted dark purple and grey and seemed to coil and writhe with menace. Heat lightning flickered high off up in the atmosphere, even though the storm itself was still several minutes away from them. The Archangel and Kusanagi were drawn up in the lee of a small hunk of rock barely deserving of the nae of island... it was barely a half kilometer square and couldn't have been more than ten meters above sea level at its highest point, all barren rock caked with bird guano and fish skeletons. But the idea wasn't to take shelter from the wind and rain behind the island... the great warships could weather those easily. It was the crashing waves that were the problem... unlikely as it was that the storm surge would be enough to damage the ships, neither was strictly designed for ocean travel and even the largest ships had been known to be swamped by taking a big wave the wrong way. The island would serve to break the back of any such freak wave, robbing it of its power before it could endager the ships even slightly.

Kira and Lacus made their way along the corridors leading towards the outdoor observation deck, noting with slight apprehension that all the crewmen that they were passing were kitted out with heavy raincoats and other foul weather gear. Katie could have chosen a better time to call this little meeting... but given all that had happened to her, Kira and Lacus had decided that even if they got soaked to the bone, they'd still show up to hear what she had to say. After the funeral in the morning everyone had split up and gone their seperate ways... the day had unofficially become something of a light duty day, for one out of respect to not only Chanel but all the dead they had lost... but also because of how Lacus's song had affected everyone. Her powers didn't communicate so well over video or phone... and didn't work at all from recordings... but even the small bits of emotion that had seeped through the video and audio links that had been tapped into the hanger had been sufficient to put everyone who saw or heard them into gloomy, introspective moods. Very little work of any consequence was getting done as each person reflected on all that they had lost... and all that they stood to gain from their sacrifice, which kept the gloom to a minimum. Death was a sad and terrible and serious thing... but it wasn't the end... your friends and family always carried you on with them. Kira and Lacus had spent the day just walking around both ships, doing their best to boost morale and cheer people up. Lacus apologized at every workstation for causing any inadvertant distress... uniformly the reply was that even though her song had shaken them a bit, they loved it anyway. Several wanted to know when she was going to put out her next CD and said they hoped that song was featured on it, which got a few blushes out of Lacus, who had mostly forgotten her music career after her father died... it was a little disconcerting suddenly finding more than a few diehard fans, some of them as old or older than her father would be. About two hours before dusk, they had gotten a message from Katie asking them to meet her on the observation deck of the Archangel in two hours for a private talk about something of importance. They made the turn to get into the final corridor that led to the door outside and almost ran into Ysak, headed the other way.

"So what does Katie want to talk to us about?" Kira asked, after everyone had recovered their poise. Ysak stared at him for a few seconds and then stared at Lacus for a few seconds.

"You'll have to ask her that." Ysak at last replied. "I personally have no certain knowledge of what she wants to talk to you about." he started to move past them as he finished talking.

"Aren't you going to be there too?" Lacus asked. "I would have thought she'd want you there too, as it's obviously something important."

"If Katie ever wants to tell me something important, I don't have to be around for her to do it." Ysak said sourly, tapping the side of his head with a finger meaningfully. "In any case, I'll be around in a bit. I just have one last little item to take care of and I'll be back. Hopefully it won't take that long." Ysak continued walking and rapidly disappeared around the corner, headed into the main areas of the ship. Lacus and Kira looked at each other in shared surprise and a little suspicion.

"That was more than a little weird." Kira commented. Lacus nodded.

"He was being intentionally obtuse and obscure. I couldn't get any sort of clear impression on what he was feeling... a lot of dedication and more rage than I wish he had... but he was deliberately hiding something from us. I'm sure of it."

"Maybe it's just a really sensitive issue or something. Something only Katie can tell us and that Ysak finds intensely embarrassing or something." Kira said, not even believing himself. Lacus looked at him and he shrugged. "Okay, so something's up. I admit it. But just about the only person who's going to be able to tell us is Katie. So lets go ask her."

"Lets." Lacus acknowledged and took him by the hand again. Less than a minute later they emerged onto the observation deck, to find more than just Katie waiting for them. Athrun and Cagalli were already there, taking in the last of the sunset together on the railing, while Dearka and Miriallia were sitting just to the left of the door, her head on his shoulder as they tilted their heads back to try and see just how tall the storm clouds towering over them were. Katie stood off slightly to herself, at the right hand railing... staring not at the sunset but lower down, at the starboard hanger and the ocean around it... probably thinking about the funeral earlier in the day, when the casket containing the momentos of her sister was launched into the sea via the catapult. As Lacus and Kira walked onto the observation deck, she turned and smiled briefly, acknowledging their presence before turning once more to stare down at the near distance. Nobody said anything as the sun continued to set, until no part of the sun was visible except for a tiny sliver of reflection on the ocean. The wind and thunder from the closing storm could be heard, like the sounds of a heavenly battle in the near distance, drawing closer with every breath. The waves were getting choppier by the second and the air temperature was starting to drop.

Ysak saw and felt none of this... he was clad in his red ZAFT elite flight suit, with his helmet clenched tightly in one fist. He'd just finished changing and was about to head out into the starboard hanger, where the Duelist awaited him. A cough from behind him made him spin in alarm, eyes narrowed dangerously, he hadn't heard anyone else enter, and Katie was keeping his friends distracted up on the observation deck. Ysak didn't like employing trickery on his own allies like this... but Kira and Athrun would never understand what he had to do... they'd try to stop him. Katie had agreed with him on that. Which was why, even though it pained her to allow him to put himself in danger, she was still helping him, because she knew as well as he did that unless he found some closure he was going to go crazy in some way, perhaps a very bad way. And he'd never find closure in confiding his feelings to his friends or attending heartfelt ceremonies and funerals... his closure could only be found in one medium... the life's blood of Chanel's murderers... Cray Thresher and Asmodeus Sark. But it wasn't one of his friends standing behind him, it was Vladimir.

"Closure is never found in revenge. Cagalli has that part right enough." Vlad said calmly, his arms crossed in a nonthreatening manner as he leaned casually against the door to the hanger. "Take it from someone who knows... you won't feel any happier or more relieved when you stand over their cold corpses... no... you'll still feel hollow and empty and cheated. Because even though they'll have died... Chanel won't come back. Your memories of her won't have been improved... nothing will have changed for the better."

"Are you going to try and stop me?" Ysak asked, his voice soft and dangerous. Vlad's eyes went colder than space and his features settled into a completely unamused mask of stone and pain.

"I could." Vlad replied. "Don't you doubt it... Coordinator." Ysak's heart quailed just a little, he was staring death in the face and he knew it, Vlad could very probably kill him just like that and they both knew it. "But..." Vlad's face returned to his normal, slightly gloomy expression. "... I am not going to stop you. You're a man, your choices are your own. For good or ill. I'm just offering advice... like Kira did for you... and you did for Kira. If I stopped you now, you'd only try again later and, much as the peacable folk don't like to admit it, your hate and love combined are most potent tools, for both offense and defense. It drives you to slay the enemy with the utmost dedication and drives you to survive to return home stronger still. Just like it did for me... with my children and my work in the PLANTS. People will do the craziest of things for love and hate, just make sure you don't end up regretting the results... like I do."

"There will be nothing for me to regret. I'm going to kill Cray and Asmodeus... anyone else is of secondary concern. I'm not going to Panama to destroy the base... I'm not a soldier right now, I'm..."

"An assassin." Vlad finished with more than a touch of sadness. "Yes, you're sort of like I used to be. I never went to the PLANTS with the intent to destroy them... I went there to kill people... certain people I was told to kill. But remember... just as my killings did, yours will have reprecussions far beyond just the deaths themselves."

"I'm prepared to deal with that... that's what soldiers do. They deal with it." Ysak retorted. "Katie's prepared to help me deal with it too... you know that."

"I do. Which is one of the primary reasons I haven't broken your legs tonight." Vlad stepped to the side. "Good luck... show them hell for me." As Ysak moved past him, Vlad reached out a hand and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. In a blindingly fast series of movements Ysak could barely even see, much less counteract, Vlad reached his other hand into a pocket on his vest, whipped something out and looped it around Ysak's neck loosely. Before Ysak could pull away, Vlad had reached over with both hands and twisted the two metallic handles together in a certain fashion that made them click and snap with the sound of locks engaging. The thin steel wire cord extruding from one end of each garrotte handle was cold against Ysak's neck. The strangling tool hung from his neck like a grotesque necklace... not tight enough to restrict his breathing or cause more than minor discomfort, but not loose enough to slip over his head either. "You'll want to come back and see me if you ever want to get that off without bringing an industrial saw closer to your neck than most people would find comfortable. You're an assassin tonight... I find it fitting that you carry the weapon of an assassin with you to remind you of that." Vlad stepped around behind Ysak and gently pushed him into the hanger. Ysak walked mechanically forward, eyes peering downward at the twin metal handles... each with a single letter scratched in bright silver into the dark metal. "A... F..." Ysak muttered, shocked and disoriented... he was wearing the primary strangling weapon of Andre Forkav, one of the most murderous men in recent history, around his neck. It was ghoulish... he couldn't help but think of the scores, if not hundreds of innocent lives that had choked their last breath while wound in this wire. "Stop dawdling... you've got some killing to do tonight and it's not going to take your friends long to figure out that you're doing something they consider stupid." Vlad prodded him.

Ysak straightened himself out with a quick shake and nodded, walking into the hanger with the stride of a man who knows he's going to walk into hell... and who also knows he's got what it takes to walk back out the other side, having punched the devil's own ticket on the way through. The mechanics on watch mostly ignored him... he was a qualified pilot, doing some maintenance on his machine... it was none of their business. Hell, since it was Ysak it was ESPECIALLY none of their business... no one wanted to chance provoking him, not today. Ysak pushed the garrotte handles down inside the collar of his flight suit as he walked... they weren't comfortable there, but it was better than bouncing around under his jaw... at least now they wouldn't hit him if he got shaken up during the fight... and despite his confidence in his skills, he knew that was more than likely. He took the winch lift to the Duelist's cockpit and strapped himself in, removing a neatly folded picture from a pocket as he did so. With careful deliberation he pinned the photo, which depicted him, Chanel and Katie in the shopping mall in Orb, just before they returned to the hotel the night Orb joined the Alliance, between his primary instrument panel and his main viewscreen. In the photo, Ysak stood in the middle... where the fold crease was... with Katie to his left and Chanel to his right... one of his arms over each of their shoulders, both of them with their arms around him and them each just leaning in to give him a kiss on each cheek... it was one of the few photos he had of him where he was actually smiling... barring those taken back when he was like ten. It was a poignant reminder of a time when he'd be truly, completely happy... and a razor sharp hook that would not let him forget his purpose tonight. He punched the power up buttons and quickly brought the Duelist up to full combat readiness, disengaging it from the hanger systems and stepping forward, much to the dismay of the mechanics on watch.

"What in all the names of hell do ya think you're doing in there!?" Chief Murdoch yelled into the hanger comm system. "You don't have authorization to launch! There's a fucking small hurricane coming in right now... there's no way you can launch into that anyway!" He took an involuntary step back when the Duelist's head rotated around to look directly at him... people said mobile suits were lacking in character... just inert conglomerations of parts. Such people had never stared eye to eye with a Gundam, Murdoch decided. He sensed plenty of character... and he was never the type to go in for all that sort of thing anyway.

"Open the hanger." Vlad suggested from behind him. Murdoch jumped and swore... he'd never even heard the guy come in the control center behind him... those TEMPEST guys and gal were always so damned sneaky and Vlad was the worst of them by far.

"Yeah... once the captain say's its okay, sure." Murdoch grimaced and reached for the bridge intercomm. His hand stopped short of the controls... Vlad had glided forward and grabbed him by the elbow with one gloved hand. Murdoch was far from a weakling, but he couldn't even budge his arm... Vlad was a lot stronger than he looked.

"There's no need to ask the captain. She'll say no, we both know that. And when she does, Ysak will just leave anyway."

"Like hell he will... the hanger doors are... ...shut." Murdoch realized what Vlad was saying. "He's fucking gone crazy!"

"Some might see it that way." Vlad acknowledged. "Other's might see it as him departing on a necessary journey of self discovery." Vlad reached up to his face with his free hand and slowly tugged the glove off with his teeth, revealing to Murdoch for the first time his entirely metallic hand and lower arm.

"Motherfucker!" Murdoch gasped. Vlad bowed his head slightly... he knew well how startling his prosthetics could be... looking like skeletal bones as they did.

"Just trust me... I know a lot more about Ysak's state of mind right now than just about anyone else... if you don't let him launch he will turn on the people obstructing him from his goals with no mercy whatsoever. For fuck's sake, man, his girlfriend... a person who was like a daughter to me... was just brutally murdered less than a couple weeks ago. You and I are older... we've lost people... parents... children... friends... we can deal with the loss. Ysak has never lost anyone before like he did Chanel... the first time is always the worst. He'll get over it but right now you're riding a raging tiger and unless you open the doors right the fuck now, you're going to get bitten!"

"Hey... I'm as sorry as the next guy for his loss... we all liked her too, ya know. But despite my personal feelings I can't just let him go off on his own... for one, because it's against all regulations... for two, theres a hurricane coming in and it might endanger the ship to open the hanger bay."

"Endanger it as much as having a furiously raging seventeen year old sick to the heart with anger and grief in a five story tall mobile war zone flipping out inside?" Vlad countered grimly. Murdoch considered that.

"Fine... what the fuck ever... but this is on your head and his head... I'm going to say you forced me to do it." Murdoch said with ill grace, mashing down the hanger open button.

"You can tell them I threatened to strangle you with your own entrails if you want... but thank you." Vlad released his grip on Murdoch's arm and stepped back to the far side of the room, crossing his arms across his chest and tapping his metal fingers against the bulkhead in a steady rythym that made Murdoch think of nails being hammered into the top of a coffin.

Up on the observation deck Athrun had gotten tired of the silence after about five minutes of respectfully waiting for Katie to speak. The storm was almost upon them and none of them were attired for staying outdoors... and even if they had been, he didn't really have the inclination to endure gale force winds, driving rain and blasts of thunder. He turned away from the railing where he and Cagalli had been watching the sunset together, making a few plans for after the war... he needed to go back to Aprilus and put his family affairs in order... deal with his inheritance from his father and other things of that nature. Cagalli needed to do similar things for herself... in addition, assuming she ever cleared her name and regained her position... or any position... in the Orb Government, there were the other four major political families of Orb that would need dealing with. "So... I don't mean to be rude or hasty, but you've invited us here for more reason than to enjoy the sunset, I assume?" he asked Katie. Kira and Lacus perked up and looked over with keen interest as did Dearka and Miriallia, who stood up and came over to stand just behind and to the side of Athrun and Cagalli. Katie did not turn from where she watched the starboard hanger bay door.

"Yes. I have a reason for asking you all to come here." She said, her voice almost too quiet to hear, whipped away by the approaching storm winds. She could feel that Ysak was just about ready, he'd encountered a few trip ups on his way into the hanger but had gotten past them with his customary ease, though she sensed she might have to mediate a bit of an argument between him and Vlad sometime in the future. But now he had reached his mobile suit and was powering it up, if everything went as they planned she'd only need to keep up the distraction for a few more minutes. It rankled that she had to deceive their friends like this... but if she didn't let Ysak go this once... and she could have stopped him, just by asking, she knew... but if she didn't let him go this time, she'd lose him eventually, she was certain. Ysak hid his emotions well, but that did not mean he didn't feel them... he felt them just as keenly and wretchedly as Kira or Athrun or any other SEED Coordinator of her acquaintance... there was something about the SEED factor which seemed to make it's bearer's emotionally more fragile than normal... at least, that was Katie's experience and theory. And unless she kept Athrun and Kira and Dearka tied up talking to her, they'd get together to stop Ysak from leaving, they both had been certain. There was no way Ysak could beat all of them together... he'd privately confided to her that he wasn't completely sure he could take even Kira or Athrun by themselves... so in order to prevent them from banding together against him, Katie was keeping them away while he built up a good lead.

"And that is?" Dearka asked leadingly, when she didn't elaborate. He paused a few seconds. "Oh come on... if you don't say something soon I'm getting out of here... I don't need to get soaked for no reason."

"Did you and Ysak have a fight or something? We passed him on the way here... he seemed like he was hiding something?" Lacus asked gently. Katie smirked.

_A fight? That's actually pretty funny, Lacus. Tell me... when you and Kira fight, do you commonly storm away from each other angry or calm?_ Katie's question slipped into Lacus's mind more easily than the quickening breeze slipped past her skin.

_In those few cases where we have a strong disagreement, we're both usually calm about it. I've never seen Kira get angry with me enough to walk away._ Lacus replied, somewhat hesitant to use the telepathy she was now learning was just another innate part of her talents.

"I suppose I asked the wrong couple." Katie said out loud. _Don't you ever get bored with peace?_ she asked silently. "If Ysak and I had had a fight, he would have been crying... because I would have broken his arm or something like that. So no... we didn't fight. Quite the opposite in fact. We came to an agreement."

"What sort of agreement?" Cagalli asked, eyeing the approaching rainclouds warily. They had a minute or two tops before they'd all need to change clothes.

_I'm not sure what you mean. I don't see peace as boring... especially since we've yet to actually attain it. And if you meant do I grow bored with getting along just fine with Kira nearly all the time... no... I don't. Both of us have suffered enough heartbreak to not want to voluntarily add to it by arguing about transient things like where to go for dinner or who said what to whom. Maybe we're not your common couple... but we work for us and thats that._ Lacus sent back. Katie smiled and nodded, though she personally found the concept of always getting along with someone who was intimate with you just a little disturbing... what was life without friction? Se turned to Cagalli. "Not the sort most of you are probably thinking. Though as soon as things calm down a bit I'm sure he'll find a ring somewhere." Katie grinned again. "No... we came to an agreement between us about you six."

"What about us?" Kira asked.

"And could you stop being so damned mysterious? It's about to rain ten sorts of hell in about a minute!" Dearka added, inching himself and Miriallia toward the door.

"Fine... I suppose I've been indirect long enough." Katie said, spinning on her heels to watch the hanger doors levering outward. "Ysak and I agreed that if you six learned what he was planning to do tonight... he did mention a little errand he had to take care of, right?... you'd try to stop him. So while he went down to the hanger to do what he needed to do, I've kept you up here, safely away from your mobile suits."

"What are you saying!?" Cagalli demanded. Katie did not look back at her.

_Why don't you help me, Lacus... stretch out your mind and find Ysak and tell us what he's up to, why don't you? He's in the starboard hanger bay... you should be able to detect that far._ Katie thought, her voice ringing in Lacus's head. Lacus squinted her eyes and concentrated... she couldn't just throw her talents around like second nature, like Katie did. Not yet anyway... right now she really had to concentrate on thinking in certain patterns in order to consciously utilize her Newtype power in a way other than song. Katie was right... she could sense Ysak. He appeared a bit like Athrun... though instead of a knight in shining armor, his armor was battared, beaten and bloody, with silver light blazing undiminished from the joints and eye slits. He carried a glowing red sword in either hand and there was a bleeding slash wound on his chest to match the one on the real Ysak's face... this wound was pulsing pain and hurt and anger and love like an artery spurting blood. It didn't take her long at all to decipher his emotions this time, when he was wide open and not guarding his mind at all.

"Too late, Lacus Clyne." Ysak whispered, jamming his helmet down on his head as he felt the unfamiliar brush of Lacus's mind on his thoughts. He kicked the Duelist into an approximation of a sprint and dived out of the hanger, igniting his thrusters barely in time to avoid going for a swim. Photon cloak snapping behind him like giant wings, Ysak aimed the Duelist right into the heart of the storm and took off with all the speed he could muster.

"Oh no... he's going out for revenge!" Lacus cried, just as the Duelist lit its thrusters and roared away from the hanger, thrusters louder for a moment than the storm. "He's headed for Panama... to kill Cray and Asmodeus!"

"But that's crazy! Ysak's damned good... and damned pissed off... but he can't take a whole base by himself!" Dearka shouted angrily at Katie. "He's gone off to his death and you helped send him there!"

"Gone off to his death... for his best friend you have little faith in Ysak." Katie said with a mighty frown. "He's not going there to foolishly waste his life attacking all of Panama base... he's going to sneak in and kill those two... and then he's going to come right back. To me. And to all of you."

"Sneak into Panama with a MOBILE SUIT!? Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Dearka retorted, furious. The storm broke just then, sending sheets of rain lashing down, instantly soaking them all to the skin. The winds built up with howling force and the waves grew from choppy to fifteen to twenty foot storm swells in a heartbeat.

"It sounds about as crazy as me returning to the PLANTS to see my father after Orb." Athrun shouted back. "Albeit I asked permission first... but Ysak is Ysak. He obviously feels strongly about this, more strongly than I've ever seen him feel something before. I'm not saying he did the right thing and neither did you, tricking us up here. But you did what you thought was necessary and I can't entirely blame you for that... in a similar situation I could see myself doing something of the same sort... god forbid I should ever have to. And none of the rest of you can tell me you wouldn't do something similar either, if the person next to you was brutally murdered."

"No... I can't say I'd do anything different." Dearka muttured, only loud enough for Mir to hear him in the whipping winds. Cagalli was blinking rainwater out of her eyes and chewing her lip as well... it was at odds with her professed philosophy, to take a life for a life... but if Athrun were murdered in front of her eyes while she was helpless to save him... well, she couldn't find it in herself to ostracize Ysak's choice. Even Lacus and Kira couldn't quite refute that... especially Kira, given how he'd reacted to Flay's death. It was almost identical to how Ysak was reacting, though Ysak had maintained better control than Kira himself had, actually.

"Be as that may... we can't let Ysak go off by himself... intentions notwithstanding, if he goes into Panama looking for a fight or even just to kill them... he's going to end up fighting all of them... Frost included. And he won't come back from that." Kira shouted. "I'm going after him." Kira turned and touched Lacus briefly on the arm. _Love you... I Know._ The thoughts passed almost simultaneously in both directions. Dearka and Miriallia turned, hand in hand, ad headed out right behind Kira. Athrun and Cagalli also turned to follow, but Katie stopped them with a hand on each's shoulder.

"What?" Cagalli asked testily, spitting rainwater that tasted of ash out of her mouth... she tried not to think about where the ash taste might have come from... they weren't currently downwind of Australia, but who knew how high the smoke clouds from the burning cities went.

"Thank you. All of you. Bring Ysak back to me. Please." Katie asked, her words a jumble. There was more than rainwater flowing down her face. Athrun smiled gently.

"Of course. I promise, we all do. We'll bring him back... I may punch his lights out when we get him back here... but he'll be back, alive and well. That's written in stone, you can be sure."

It wasn't until eight o'clock the next morning that the long range radar scopes at Panama picked up what might have been a mobile suit contact approaching from a direction no mobile suit should have been coming from. A combat air patrol of four interception fighters was rerouted from their sentry course to investigate. At roughly the same time the flight leader reported a possible contact, the patrol's radar signatures disappeared from the radar array, as did the possible enemy contact. All attempts to raise the patrol met with failure... the failure was logged and reported, but Panama was still a chaotic mess dealing with the EA forces that had been routed there after the Australian Maneuver and there were bigger problems to attend to than the loss of contact with a single patrol... all too likely from a resurgence of N-Jammer interference or a radiation storm in orbit. And even if it was an enemy... nobody would be insane enough to attack all of Panama base with a single mobile suit. Sentry's and patrols were told to remain highly alert... nothing new there... they'd been on high alert ever since the start of the war. Asmodeus certainly wasn't bothered with the news and nobody told the BCPU's anything if they could avoid it. Most of the base went on with business as usual... which today meant preparing for a MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) charity concert being held that morning at around ten. It was more than just a concert, actually... ten of the most popular bands in the Atlantic Federation were being flown in to perform in a sort of all day festival designed to help restore the spirits of the soldiers who'd lost friends and family in the Australian Maneuever. There was going to be plenty of free food and drink...even some alcohol, a rarity for a command sponsered event... the bands, which ranged in genre from country to pop to rock to electronica to the newly popular Excavation genre, in which songs from centuries ago were dug out of old records and resung by talented mimics, dances, games and dozens of other events and attractions to take the soldier's minds off the losses for a while.

Ashino was off duty for the first few hours of the charity concert and he had no specific orders not to attend... he had to make himself always available to Asmodeus if he needed to be called into action, but a belt and wrist pager took care of that. He decided that taking a bit of a look around wouldn't hurt him... it might even be... what was it called again?... fun? He took one of his small notebooks... this one had a grey cover and was brand new, along with several pens. He was walking out the door of his room/cell when he realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to wear... the concert was an informal affair and he'd stick out like an alien if he wore his uniform... even his, which was of course unadorned by any unit or rank markings. And the whole reason he wanted to go to the concert was to blend in with normal people for a while, so he could study them in their natural habitat... a world he could barely understand and only rarely got the opportunity to see. He considered the problem as he made his way out of the high security areas of the base, where he and the other two were kept well isolated from the rest of the base. Ashino nodded to a few guards, who stopped their conversation to warily watch him pass, hands straying near their pistol grips... he was getting known as an okay guy, but the rumors about what Cray and Frost could do were already getting around and now any BCPU tended to make people nervous... and too many of the guards didn't take the time to learn to differentiate him from Frost... after all they were both short and well muscled. Ashino put that out of his head so he could focus on the real problem... he needed a disguise... what normal people might refer to as casual wear or in military terminology, civilian clothing. But he had no money... BCPU's didn't exactly serve by choice or for a paycheck. He pondered this problem as he reached the street outside the high security area... it didn't look like he had much choice, much as he didn't like it.

He strolled around aimlessly for a while until he found a likely target... a willowy looking young man, dressed in clothing that looked about a half size too big, with pasty skin, glasses and a slightly receding hairline... almost exactly like a good portion of the lab assistants he'd seen in JIHAD. In Ashino's experience... or at least what he'd heard from the mutters of the guards at JIHAD... people like this always had lots of money, because they lacked something called a social life in which to spend it. Ashino was still fuzzy on some of that stuff... he knew what socializing was... but a social life? Was it possible to have more than one type of life? If it was, he wanted to find out how. He tailed the young man... well man, since he was probably at least Ashino's age if not a few years older... for about a block, selecting his ambush point. The sidewalk was clear for more than forty meters in both directions... perfect... Ashino quickened his stride and brushed past the soldier, muttering a sort of greeting as he passed. The other barely even looked at him, his mind clearly on other things. Ashino passed an alley between two buildings and slipped into it, reaching out as the soldier passed and dragged him in behind him, practically lifting the thin young man off the ground as he did so. He pushed him up against the side of the building, grabbed the soldier by the lapels of his shirt and pulled his head down nice and personal like. As it turned out, extorting money wasn't nearly as difficult as Ashino had thought it would be... though it was still distasteful. At first the soldier had resisted, threatening to turn Ashino over to the military police. Then Ashino had taken a rusty metal pole from the ground nearby and snapped it in half with only a few grunts of effort... the pole was only a few inches in diamater and rusted halfway through, but apparently this questionable feat of strength made a strong impression on the soldier, because he immediately dropped eighty dollars in cash and change on the ground, along with a bank card.

After a few minutes in which Ashino received a quick and somewhat incredulous training by his mugging victim in how to use a bank card and learned the five digit code that would access the funds, he chopped the poor guy across the neck, putting him in a deep state of unconsciousness. He dumped him behind some bags of trash and covered him with a few more... he felt almost guilty... like he'd done something wrong. Maybe he had... he was supposed to be protecting people like this, not robbing them. But robbing them was better than killing them... the guy would wake up with a sore head and a lighter bank account balance... but he'd live on. That made Ashino feel a little better. Until he got out on the street again and realized another problem... sure he had money, but he'd been in uniform of some sort or another his whole life... he had no idea what to wear. He still hadn't found an answer to this problem when he reached the base shopping district... guided by helpful signs it hadn't been that hard for him to locate, nor had been an ATM from which to withdraw an extra three hundred dollars... the max the machine would let him take. But he could hardly mug someone and ask for fashion tips... he didn't think he'd feel so good if he had to keep neck chopping hapless bystanders. His problem turned out to be big on the bark and not so bad on the bite. He wandered aimless through the store for about five minutes before a pair of overly friendly staff workers bustled up and asked him if he needed any help. Ashino was amazed... people had never walked up to him before and just asked if they could help out... it was a new experience. It took thirty minutes of bewilderment and confusion, but they eventually helped him find what they told him was a highly fashionable outfit. They told him the ensemble cost two hundred and seventy dollars because it was on sale. He didn't question that... he didn't know what they meant by sale and two hundred seventy dollars didn't sound all that high... he knew he himself had cost tens of millions of dollars. He left with just over a hundred dollars in the pockets of his brand new black jeans, which were tucked into shiny black steel toed boots much like infantry soldiers wore. His shirt was short sleeved and dark green, a few shades darker than his eyes, with a button up front. The undershirt was dark red, darker than his hair. A pair of mirror reflective wraparound sunglasses were placed carefully in the breast pocket of the outer shirt... he didn't need them, but the staff had assured him they were very fashionable.

Ashino walked back onto the street running a nervous hand through his short and curly hair... if anyone who knew that he was a BCPU saw him now, to say he'd be in deep shit would be a wonderful euphanism... BCPU's were things, not people... they didn't get to wear civilian clothes. And if they found out he mugged someone... well... in all actuality, that was probably a lesser crime in the eyes of his superiors than the wearing of casual clothing... after all, he was supposed to be aggressive and merciless... he wasn't supposed to want to blend in like a normal Natural. He fell in with a crowd of other soldiers and assorted base personnel leaving the shopping district. None of them spared him a second glance... maybe because most of them, even the females, were several inches taller than him. However, that probably wasn't it... he noticed they all gave him a little extra room on the shuttle bus that arrived to take them to the concert, he noted that while he may have been the shortest one present, he was also the most muscular... he jotted down a note to himself in his book. Physical size and dimensions apparently sent strong nonverbal cues to the people around you... not exactly new information... he'd been taught how to be physically threatening in training, but he was trying to blend in and they were still shying away, just because he bulked more muscle than them. A sudden thought occured to him... it might also be because he was a stranger, trust was something that was in short supply wherever he went, Natural, Coordinator or BCPU no matter what. The bus deposited them outside the park area where the concert was set up, Ashino could not help but stare in awe. He'd never seen anywhere close to this many people in one place at one time... more than he could quickly count in just one five degree arc of vision. And then there were the stages, the tents, the gaming booths, the rides... a medly of sights and sounds and smells and even tactile sensations... that many people moving around at once actually made tremors in the earth he could feel as slight shifts in his near perfect balance.

Ashino wandered through the main gates to the festival area, showing his military ID at a checkpoint so that he did not have to buy a twenty dollar ticket. He breathed a sigh of relief in that the military ID provided to him still looked more or less normal... in the event of his death on the battlefield, if the enemy recovered his corpse they'd glean nothing special from the card. Once inside he was sort of stuck on which way to go first... eventually he found himself just drifting along with the crowds, gawking like a country yokel without even realizing it. His expression of childish wonder was noticed by more than a few people... many chuckled or made whispered asides to friends, but many more smiled and nodded in his direction in a friendly and understanding manner. "Hey! Hey, you there... the red head in the green shirt. The short guy! Hey you!" a man's voice suddenly called. Ashino tensed up... had someone from the Panama branch of the BCPU project spotted him? "Over here!" Ashino looked around, quickly locating the source of the voice... a man dressed in brightly colored clothing who stood behind the counter of a gaming stall. There was a large sign on the top of the booth that proudly proclaimed in large block letters that you could pay two dollars to throw five knives at a target... hit the bullseye once to win a prize... the more times you hit the bigger the prize was. The prizes ranged from hand sized plush toys to almost life sized stuffed animals almost as big as Ashino himself. "C'mon, buddy. Pay two bucks, win your sweetie a prize, eh? All you gotta do is hit the bullseye once and make it stick... a guy with your muscle shouldn't have it all that hard."

"Um... okay." Ashino walked over to the booth and carefully counted out two dollars to give to the man. The man made the twin bills disappear with a theatrical flick of his hand that was ludicrously slow to Ashino's eyes and plopped five battered and well used throwing knives onto the counter, which was at mid chest height for Ashino. The bullseye on the target was a red star about three inches across and the board was about twelve feet away. Ashino picked up the top knife and tested the edge, tsking at how dull it was... the knives he was usually given were sharp enough to cut thin steel wire... this would barely pierce bone if thrown hard. He forced himself to remember that these were not combat knives... this was a game. Like training, except just for the hell of it. Or just for the prize in this case.

"C'mon, sonny... either throw the knife or get out of the way for the next guy." the handler prodded him. Ashino turned his eyes onto the man, setting him back a step at the emptiness within the green eyes of the short buff kid. Without looking back at the target Ashino flipped the knife once in his hand to confirm the balance and tossed it overhand in a blur of whirling steel, impacting dead center in the middle of the star. Without pausing or looking away from the vendor Ashino picked up the next knife and threw that too, and then the next... and the next. In less than fifteen seconds he'd put all five knives into the red star, so close they actually touched each other and so deeply embedded into the wood that the handler had to hit them with a hammer a few times to loosen them enough to pull out. "Goddamn... you some kinda trick thrower or somethin? You weren't even looking." the handler said, shaking his head in admiration. Ashino shrugged... he could have probably thrown the knives two in one hand and three in the other and gotten similar results at twice the distance... at least four out of five. Looking had nothing to do with it... once he'd seen the target he remembered exactly where it was in relation to himself... he didn't need to keep his eyes on it... a pilot who couldn't keep track of a target without the use of his eyes wouldn't be a pilot long. "Well, pick out whatever you want... you earned it. Just... don't come back for a while, okay? I only got a few of the big prizes and I'm not supposed to lose all of them today."

Ashino ended up picking out one of the 4 of 5 prizes... the 5 of 5 prizes being far too unwieldy to carry around for long. As it was, the felt covered stuffed black bear was as big as his chest and thighs put together and was a bit awkward to tote around, even if it didn't weigh much at all. After about twenty minutes of lugging it around, bumping it into things and people, he ditched it next to a delighted bunch of young kids... they looked barely older than the new recruits in the program were. Ashino considered bringing something back for the other BCPU's and BCPU hopefuls, but discarded the idea as a wasted notion... the scientists in charge would never let them have anything like personal possessions, much less a big stuffed toy. He bought himself a carbonated drink of some sort... the different flavors didn't really have much meaning to him, he just chose one at random... it was citrusy and sour, but cool and best of all... different from the electrolytes and other specially mixed fluids he drank on the job. He ambled around aimlessly for the next hour, taking notes on the people he saw. The groups of soldiers out with their buddies for a good time... the soldiers with their families... the civilian families... the couples... the loners... everyone acted differently and yet so alike. They'd all go and do different things in different ways, yet they were all here just to unwind and have a good time. Whether it was losing money at the game stalls, dancing, listening to the band music, riding the rides or stuffing themselves sick with unhealthy food, everyone seemed to have a different way of making themself feel better. Ashino tried each method himself, to see if he'd feel better too... ever since JIHAD and the death of the Doc he'd been even more gloomy and introverted than usual. Ashino never really lost money at the game stalls... they were all tests of strength or hand eye coordination... things at which he was far and above human levels. He used his foot to ring the strongman bell, not the hammer that was provided for him. He built up a steady stream of prizes that he ditched sooner or later into the hands of some child or couple, who always thanked him profusely enough to make him uncomfortable. He did keep one thing... a combination animatronic/plushy black cat about the size of both his hands together that clung firmly to the back of his head and made "mew mew" noises every few minutes and turned its head around to look at things. He found the animal hilarious for some reason and strangely comforting... he couldn't ever remember owning a pet, much less a black cat, but for some reason it felt normal, even if it wasn't a real animal.

He thought about trying to dance... but he really had no idea how and he didn't want to make a fool out of himself doing something a normal human couldn't. He listened to the bands as he walked... the songs had been carefully chosen, he guessed, to be pro war and energetic, to help the soldiers forget about their losses. Most of the bands were singing about love and mischevious pranks or other nonsensical things... a few were more direct, usually the rock groups, singing about beating people up and/or winning some unnamed fight. Ashino was no stranger to propaganda... he ended up tuning out most of the music. Riding the rides was... interesting. Used as he was to flying the Bane in combat, the spinning and twirling and whirling rides really didn't affect him much... compared to some battlefield maneuvers he used on a regular basis, the stresses he endured on the rides were nothing. Everyone else sure seemed to be getting a kick out of them though. He did like the ferris wheel, just because of how stately and slow it was. It wasn't a ride that tried to thrill you with speed... it didn't need to. It just went up and around and seemed to give you the greatest view of the whole damned world that you'd ever see. He rode it four times in a row until the guy who did admittance recognized him and made him go away, to let other people have a turn. After that, he went and bought himself cotton candy, popcorn and several plates of chili dogs slathered in sauce and cheese. Which he promptly downed in about ten minutes, much to the admiration of a group of soldiers nearby. Ashino shrugged... his body was designed to run efficiently and utterly digest everything he put into it at an accelerated rate. He hadn't been precisely hungry, but now he certainly wouldn't need to eat for at least a day and a half, maybe more. And the food had been good... far better than the nutrient oatmeal and rations he was normally given. The group of soldiers were a little rowdy... obviously having a better than usual time due to the cans of beer each clutched. One of them came over and clapped Ashino jovially on the back and complimented him for how well he could "scoff" to use the soldier's words. He paid for a pitcher of beer for Ashino and then left to go party elsewhere with his friends. Ashino sniffed the amber liquid that was brought to him... it smelled of grain and chemicals and a bit like some of the lubricants used on the small mechanical parts of the Bane. He shrugged and downed the pitcher in two gulps... he licked his lips afterwards and thought about the taste... he knew what alcohol was and its effects on the human body... but his body was designed to resist poison and most drug effects... he didn't feel any different and his balance seemed unaffected. He shrugged again... whatever.

It was as he was leaving the dining area of the food court type area that he looked up in alarm. A pair of Strike Crusaders had just flown by overhead... he forced himself to relax... just because mobile suits were flying around didn't mean anything... this was a military base. They weren't looking for him or anything... he still had one and a half hours before he'd have to leave to return in time to be ready for his next patrol. He didn't realize how distracted he was until he actually physically walked into someone... something he'd never done before by accident in his entire life. The other person was taller than him... like most people were... but much thinner and much lighter... she was knocked back and to the ground almost instantly, while Ashino barely even felt the impact.

"Hey...! Watch where you're walking you damned..." the girl's voice trailed off as she got a good look at the guy who'd knocked her over. He was short and buff like a movie star... muscles bulging along his arms and chest, a trim waist, slightly pale but unblemished skin, fresh new clothes of reasonable pricing, a slightly confused and concerned expression on his face, pretty green eyes and short curly red hair. In short, he was hot. Damned hot. The most handsome man to ever run her over. "... hunk..." she finished, amazed. People as good looking as him didn't really exist outside of movies, did they? I mean, his skin was practically perfect as far as she could see... and that build... he looked like he crushed rocks barehanded for fun. But he didn't look at all like an arrogant jock... he was almost tenative, as if lost in a place he didn't quite understand. And the plushy cat that clung to the back of his head was something no jock she knew of would be caught dead wearing.

"Mew... mew." the plushy cat commented. Ashino was at a loss as to what to do... here he'd just bowled this girl over and she was plainly not happy with him, judging by the fierce look in her eyes... he'd gone and made a scene... just the opposite of what he wanted to do. "Umm... I'm sorry." Ashino mumbled... trying to decide what to do. He needed to end this fast, before more people started paying attention and perhaps recognized him. "Let me help you up." he held out one hand.

"Uhmm... thanks." the girl, whos name was Jean, replied. She found it hard to get coherent words out... ever since her last boyfriend had dumped her for that bitch on the swim team she'd despaired of finding another good guy friend... she wouldn't call them boyfriends any more... not until she found a faithful one. And here was this enormously attractive male, just about her own age by her estimation, politely offering her a hand to help her to her feet. Of course, he had knocked her over, but politeness was less common than most people thought. "Chivalry isn't dead, it's good to see." she took his hand and started to use it to help herself get to her feet. A wasted effort on her part... he just tugged lightly and almost pulled her into his arms, not just onto her feet. Ashino frowned slightly... he'd have to watch it... she was a lot lighter than he'd thought... certainly not more than a hundred pounds. The girl was about an inch and a half, maybe two inches taller than him, with light brown straight hair done in a short braid to her shoulders. Her skin was about the same color as his, showing a little bit of tan and a little more sunburn. She had freckles on her face and wore round glasses over her hazel eyes. She was wearing blue jeans, sandals and a white shirt with a stylized blue dragon on the front with the caption "Go 72nd Autonomous Core" and looked to be about sixteen or seventeen.

"You should watch where you're going." Jean said, trying to sound stern and angry. It was hard holding back a laugh, actually... the plushy cat on his head was an image that was almost irresistably hilarious, especially coupled with the lost and confused expression on his face.

"Yes, I should. Thats the first time I've ever walked into someone by accident." Ashino replied sheepishly. He felt the need to offer some explanation. "The mobile suits flying overhead distracted me."

"Yeah... they're from my older brother's unit, the 72nd AC. He's on sentry duty right now and his unit has security duty for the festival... they pissed off some high up bastard and he had their watch schedule rotated around." Jean replied, mentally shaking her fist at the nameless son of a bitch who'd prevented her from going to the festival with her brother, whom she hadn't seen in months.

"He's a survivor of Australia?" Ashino asked... he wasn't sure why he cared or if he did, but from the few personal conversations he'd overheard between normal people, it was apparent to him that you were supposed to pretend to care about the other person's life, even if you did not.

"No... he was stationed in Europe until recently, thank god. Australia was such a mess... I mean, sure we didn't lose, but I find it hard to believe we won either. And I don't care if someone around here doesn't like me being negative... I support this war because my brother's fighting in it... not cause I like it or believe in our leaders." Jean said proudly. She looked around at all the military people around her. "No offense."

"None taken." Ashino replied. He found himself starting to get interested... here was a person who, in a way like him, both supported and disliked the war. He decided to talk with her some more, to try and get a read on how she felt and see if it was at all like he did. Or how he should be feeling. "I feel like I should make it up to you somehow... for running into you I mean. Should I buy you some food or drink or win you a prize or something?"

Jean brushed herself off again and studied the short guy... he seemed completely without guile, but then again her judgement on the male psyche was somewhat suspect... she'd fallen for the other bastard too. "Are you hitting on me? I don't even know your name."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean." Ashino responded. "I ran into you, but I haven't struck you or hit you. And my name is..." Ashino trailed off... he didn't want anyone to connect his real name to this appearance... never could tell who might hear. "...Ash." he finished. Best keep it simple, easier to keep straight.

"You... wait?... what?... no... ugh... nevermind." Jean replied, wrongfooted by his innocuous reply. "I guess you weren't then. My name is Jean. Nice to meet you, Ash." she held out her hand. Ashino looked at it and finally divined that he was supposed to grasp it with his own after a second or two. He very tenatively took her hand in his and tried not to squeeze to hard... he knew he could shatter every bone in her soft hand if he clenched his fist. "You got a strong, firm grip there, Ash. And you know what they say about guy's with strong grips..." Jean said. Ashino looked at her and waited for more.

"No, what do they say?" Ashino replied after a few seconds.

"That you're supposed to let go of my hand after shaking it, for one." Jean commented. Though in truth she didn't find she minded holding hands with this guy... strange, since she barely knew him, but maybe she was just unbalanced from her last relationship. Ashino released her hand as if burned by it.

"Sorry... I... uh... don't get out much. Still kinda... new, here." Ashino told her contritely.

"Yeah, I'm just here for a week or so, to see my brother." Jean said, smiling at his awkwardness... usually it was her that was all nervous and jumpy during social situations... she'd never been a party girl with a big social scene... it was refreshing to be the sure minded one in a conversation. And buff, polite, vulnerable guys like Ash were damned cute in her estimation. "So why are you here then? You work here or something?" Jean asked. "You look kinda like a soldier if you don't my saying... standing all stiff like that."

Ashino frowned slightly... he'd been trying to mimic the people around him and here this civilian girl had spotted him as a military type within seconds... he'd need to work on blending in better. Of course, given that ninety percent of the crowd was military, perhaps being thought to be a soldier was an indication of success. "I transferred here right after Australia. I'm a... uhh... a..." Ashino trailed off... some people might connect a short red head, recently transferred, who was also a pilot, with a certain special unit that wasn't technically supposed to be at the festival, if he knew the scientists at all. He reconsidered... there were thousands of soldiers and pilots in Panama right now... there were bound to be other short red heads. "A pilot. A mobile suit pilot."

"You don't look like a mobile suit pilot, if you don't mind me saying." Jean commented, slowly walking around to view him from all sides... she noticed with a grin that he continued to look straight ahead... he was military, thats for sure... so stuck on proper bearing. But it probably also meant he was the responsible type, especially if he was a pilot. And he was probably well off too... her brother was paid quite well. "The mobile suit pilots I know are all thinner and wimpier looking... even my brother isn't as buff as you. You look more like a tank driver or artilleryman. What unit do you fly with? And what's your rank?"

"Err..." Ashino paused, thinking on how to answer. Why was it that whenever he encountered girls his age that he always ended up answering all the questions, not vice versa? "I'm a Lieutenant. And yes, I do fly mobile suits, though I can also drive tanks and fire artillery. My unit is... well... my unit is...ah... top secret. Not really supposed to talk about it." Ashino replied... it was nothing but the truth, if phrased such that he didn't actually give anything away. He was techincally a lieutenant... he was listed as such in some military roster that didn't officially exist. He could drive or fly any vehicle the Alliance had in its inventory and most of the PLANT vehicles too... and his unit was the very definition of top secret.

"Oh really...?" Jean leaned in from behind him, hoping in vain to make him jump. "Tell me then, Mr. Secret Agent Man... how can I know if you're telling me the truth or just blowing smoke up my skirt to try and impress me?"

"You're not wearing a skirt and believe me, even if you were I'd never do something so crass as to blow smoke up it." Ashino assured her, blushing slightly and irritated that she would think so little of him.

"No, no I meant... oh, nevermind. It was a figure of speech. Prove to me that you really are a pilot in some special forces unit." Jean said, clapping a hand to her face in exasperation... and to hide the smile at his blush.

"Why?" Ashino asked warily.

Jean glared at him, hands on hips and then gave him a mischevious smile. "Because if you do I'll give you a reward you wouldn't want to miss out on. And if you don't I'm going to walk away and not talk to you ever again." Jean said, playing on a hunch... he seemed desperate for social contact... not just with a girl but with anyone... he must be one of those real introverts... the kind of guy who almost never got out by themselves. Course, he didn't look like that, but an introvert body builder wasn't too much of a stretch, was it?

"How then?" Ashino asked. He didn't want her to leave... confusing as it was, this conversation was enjoyable.

"Ash, for an officer in the special forces like you claim to be, you're awfully dependent on me for ideas and motivation." Jean commented with a sly smile. "Just do something impressive... I don't know..." Jean looked around and her voice trailed off as her eyes met an unwelcome sight. That rat bastard Brian... her old boyfriend... had just walked around the corner, arms around the waist of that bitch Marlene, captain of the swim team. Jean didn't know what Marlene and Brian were doing in Panama for a moment... then realized that both of them had siblings in the military too. Behind them lumbered Sam, Brian's best friend and star of the school wrestling team. Jean had never liked Sam... he was a brute and he knew it and enjoyed it. "... Hold on a moment... I need to go give someone else a piece of my mind."

Ashino watched Jean stamp over towards the group of two guys and one girl who had rounded a corner a few seconds ago. None of them were familiar to him, but that was standard. Ashino watched with interest which slowly phased into concern as Jean confronted the group and began telling the slimmer male how she felt about being abandoned for something called a "hussy", which seemed to be some sort of insulting label applied to the limber blond girl closely attached to the slim man's arm. Ashino slowly made his way over to them, pondering all the while just what he could do that would prove to Jean that he was indeed a special forces soldier without completely blowing his secret. Jean's argument was growing quite heated and Ashino was forced to divert some of his attention to tuning it out. It was while he was doing this that the big hulking teenager... the guy who looked like he arm wrestled with Jug the BCPU for kicks, suddenly reached out and shoved Jean hard enough to make her tumble to the ground.

"I thought I told you I was done with you, Jean." Brian said coldly. "I warned you about what would happen if you kept bugging me and Marlene, didn't I? I can see that word's just aren't getting through to you." Brain paused for a moment and smiled, a frosty smile that was mirrored on Marlene's face and echoed by a hungry look on Sam's. "Sam... teach her a lesson for me, buddy."

"You got it, hoss." Sam stepped forward and reached down to grab Jean by the shoulder. He got no further than the reaching down part before Ashino had slid forward and grabbed him by the wrist. "Who the hell are you?" Sam rumbled, surprised. Usually people moved away from him when he was frowning, like he was, not towards him. And here this runt... a well muscled runt... but a runt nonetheless, had just walked up and stopped him. Now, Sam wasn't the sharpest knife in the set, but he could still figure out that there was likely more to this guy than met the eye, 'cause he'd never been grabbed by someone a good two or three weight classes below him before.

"No one you need to know." Ashino informed the big hulking young man coolly. He slowly released his grip, guiding the big meaty hand past Jean's shoulder and down to the side. "I would strongly suggest that you not attempt to lay hands on Jean again."

"What... are you her boyfriend?" Marlene cackled nastily. "Jean, dear... my your tastes have changed... this guy has more in common with a tree stump than he does with the guys you usually hang out with... oh wait... that's right.. you don't generally hang out with guys, do you, introvert?" Jean flushed... it was one thing to acknowledge that you were introverted... it was another to have that fact thrown into your face in public by a social peer... especially one that had stolen your last boyfriend from you just cause she had better tits and was more willing to put out.

"He's not my boyfriend! I barely know him!" Jean protested.

"I'm not her boyfriend... I hardly know her." Ashino repeated, almost in synch. He winced... what he had meant to come out as a strong refutation had become an almost pathetic denial when spoken in concert.

"Oh really!?" Brian smirked. He looked over at Sam, who had backed off for the moment. "Change of plans, Sam my pal. Trash her boyfriend for me, would you? She's the kind of girl that gets off when men get beaten up over her... trust me, I know... I used to have to beat up guys all the time just to get her to second base."

"That's not true, you son of a bitch!" Jean cried, tears of anger and shame in her eyes... so she liked being fought over and protected... what was so wrong about that? Lot's of women liked that... just cause she had a bit of a bodily reaction to being saved by her boyfriend didn't make her a bad person. Did it?

"I told you once... I'm not her boyfriend. You will gain nothing by attacking me." Ashino warned. Sadly, as is to often the case with Naturals, the logic of his statements did not seem to be getting through. Sam grinned toothily and stepped forward, reaching out with both hands in the manner of a trained grappler.

"Don't worry, short stack... this'll only hurt for a little while. A few weeks in the hospital and you'll prolly be able to walk again and you might even be able to take a piss without outside help." Sam said with a chuckle... he was well known back home in wrestling circles and on the street for being one merciless son of a bitch once he got his hands on someone... his threat wasn't an off the cuff estimate.

"No... don't! He's just a guy I bumped into! There's no reason to bring Ash into this!" Jean protested, starting to push herself to her feet.

"Ash eh? Already on a first name basis with a guy you just bumped into... and people call me a slut... I usually require at least a nights worth of food and drinks before I deign to learn a guy's name, much less do anything else. You work fast, Jean. Desperate much?" Marlene taunted.

"I'm sorry, I'm following very little of what you are saying." Ashino said, turning away from the almost menacing figure of Sam to regard Marlene and Brian. "But while your words are unfamiliar to me, your tone is not. I'll thank you not to continue speaking to Jean that way. It isn't nice."

"It... isn't... nice." Brian repeated, incredulous. He looked at Marlene and then over at Sam, who had a frown on his face... he'd never been ignored in mid threat before. "Well why didn't you just say so before, Ash? I woulda backed off right away. Imagine that... not being nice. Oh my god! Oh whatever shall I do now that I'm not being nice?" Brian turned to face Jean. "Christ on his cross where the fuck did you find this simpleton? People like him can't be common... he's a freaking retard!" Brian turned back to Ashino and Sam. "Sam, do this poor bastard a favor and choke some sense into him."

"You had this coming, little guy." Sam said heavily, putting his hands on Ashino's shoulders from behind and beginning to squeeze. "Ain't nobody walk away from a fight with me but me." Ashino waited for a few seconds, until he could actually start to feel the pressure of Sam's fingers. He then spun around on his heels, twisting his shoulders out of Sam's grip in the process. Sam grunted in shock... no one had ever pulled out of his grip so easily before... the short guy had done it without even trying. Sam brought both his hands inward for a neck grip... he'd like to see the runt twist out of THAT! His hands were inches from Ashino's neck when Ashino brought up his hands and gripped Sam's wrists, stopping him cold.

"I believe it is you who might have had something coming to you." Ashino told Sam in exasperation... why must it always come down to physical force when dealing with males his age? He just did not do well with people his own age... females had him stumbling around dazed and confused, males always wanted to fight him. "I'm sorry." Ashino apologized and then rotated his hands downwards while applying nearly the full force of his grip... dislocating both of Sam's wrists while simultaneously crushing the lower forearm bones into several bony chunks, the ragged edges of which quickly perforated Sam's skin in bright smears of blood. Sam's eyes went wide as saucers while his pupils dilated almost to the point where the color could no longer be discerned as the unbelievable agony raced up Sam's arms from the multiple compound fractures in his wrists, not to mention the dislocated hands themselves, which flopped obcenely about as he waved his arms in a futile effort to assuage the pain. A terrible scream was starting to rip its way past his lips when Ashino stepped forward and planted a solid uppercut into his jaw, mashing his teeth together so hard Sam bit off the tip of his own tongue and cracked seven teeth in the process. Ashino finished off the attack by kicking Sam's left knee hard enough to force the joint completely backwards and then with a tremendous short jab into the sternum which actually sent the larger boy physically tumbling backwards to land sprawled limply in the dirt. Ashino studied his handiwork as the people around cried out and either found somewhere else to be or started to form a gawking circle of bystanders. "He'll live. Though it will be several weeks before he walks on his own... he'll be using a bedpan till then, I suppose. Amazing places, hospitals."

Jean was one of the gaping bystanders... her heart was hammering so fiercely in her chest that it felt like she was about to suffer a heart attack or something of the sort... of course maybe it was just struggling to pump the suddenly red hot blood out of her lower bodily regions into the rest of her in a vain attempt to cool her down before she melted... but she doubted the overworked muscle had that kind of capacity. Okay, so maybe there was something a little wrong in her head... but in that case it wasn't her fault she got really horny when guys fought over her and inevitably got hurt. And Brian's words had some truth in them... the more he had beaten people up the more receptive to his advances she had become... but it had never been anything like this. She didn't even know Ash's last name and here she was, practically salivitating over him, just cause he had practically torn Sam... a deserving individual if there ever was one in her estimation... to pieces right in front of her eyes. And not only that, but he'd made it look so easy... like it was nothing to him. She suddenly didn't doubt at all that he was a mobile suit pilot in a top secret special forces unit... they didn't teach normal pilots to fight like that, that was for sure. A distant part of her felt guilty that she was reveling in the pain of a fellow human being, especially one known to her... but Sam definitely had some payback coming from all the wrestling matches that had resulted in ambulance rides for his opponents... not to mention the poor bastards out on the streets. Jean got to her knees and was just starting to get up when she noticed the danger... Brian hadn't taken the mauling of his best friend and crony lying down... Sam had barely hit the ground when Brian had jumped forward, his hand darting into a pocket and rerturning to whip out a switchblade pocket knife, with which he slashed at Ash, who seemed distracted.

Ashino had just realized what a huge scene he'd caused... someone was sure to report this... and it wouldn't take the scientists at the project long at all to match Sam's injuries to a certain short red headed person, who was really the only BCPU capable of inflicting them... Cray would have torn the guy in half and Frost wouldn't have left more than a blood smear and a few broken parts lying around... and the wounds were beyond what most any Natural could inflict bare handed. Besides just that though, dozens of people had seen a short red head guy with lots of muscles dish out the blows... that right there was the end of the road for him. He was still frowning and turning around when a flash of sunlight on steel in his peripheral vision caused him to look up and flinch to the side... just barely in time to avoid taking Brian's switchblade knife to the neck... instead the knife edge ran up along his jaw and across his left cheek to just barely pass below his left eye and nick his left ear. Ashino cursed himself mightily for letting himself get so distracted... a mere Natural had actually managed to wound him... he felt ashamed. He didn't let the shame stop him from grabbing Brian's arm at the wrist with one hand while the other reached out and grabbed his assailant by the shirt. A twist, a grunt and a heave later and Brian's arm was dislocated at the elbow and shoulder, pinned back behind his back while Ashino pressed him face first into the ground where he'd tossed him. The knife spun through the air to land about four feet away, point first in the ground. Ashino used his knee to apply downward pressure while he slowly rotated Brian's dislocated arm with his hands, causing the boy to shudder and squeal in excrutiation. "That was very foolish of you. I could have killed you, you know. But I won't... killing Natural's is not my job. Let this pain serve as a reminder to... urg!" Ashino was forced to break off as Marlene pounced on his back and clawed at him with her nails, cutting red lines down his chest where her nails tore rents in his undershirt. He stunned her by bringing his elbow back sharply into her stomach, knocking the breath from her in an explosive gasp. She staggered back and started to recover before being leveled by a solid kick to the assbone from Jean, who had finally regained her feet. Ashino acknowledged the unneeded help with a slight nod. He turned back to the writhing Brian underneath his knee.

"As I was saying... let the pain serve as a reminder to you about just what the potential costs for being a bully can be. I don't believe I need to make myself any clearer on how I feel about it when girls get pushed around... do I?" Ashino punctuated the question with a savage twist of Brian's arm, causing bones to grind against each other audibly. The screech of agony was all the answer Ashino needed. He almost struck behind him again when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, but he did an almost instantaneous head count and realized that it was Jean who had touched him.

"Come on, Ash! We have to get out of here before the MP's arrive! If we don't get a move on we're all going to get arrested!" Jean shouted in his ear, pulling at his arm to get him moving. She was right... Ashino's keen ears could hear many pairs of running booted feet headed towards his position... they were close... within a hundred yards. They did not have much time... his mind kicked into full combat mode and his built in systems started pumping combat drugs into his bloodstream as a result. Time seemed to slow down as he considered his situation... he needed an exit for himself and Jean and he needed one fast. They were near the dining court area, which wasn't good... it was too open... too many people would point them out. They needed to clear the area... off to his left were a series of kiddie rides... no good, they'd stand out like beacons there. To his right was the food court. He spun around so fast Jean could barely follow his movements, much less protest as he suddenly gathered her up in his arms like she weighed nothing at all and took off at a dead sprint in the direction of some large tents, which had formerly been directly behind him. Even with his short legs, when enhanced by combat drugs and with pure adrenaline being pumped into his bloodstream, Ashino managed to cover the fifty yard distance in less than six seconds, even carrying Jean in his arms and dodging around people who could barely get a look at him as he brushed by... it wasn't Frost movement or movie super speed but it was as close as Ashino had ever been and it was certainly fast enough to prevent the people he brushed by from getting a good look at his face.

The large tents turned out to be the staging quarters for the bands that were playing and while technically you were supposed to only be back there if you had a pass, ten bands worth of groupies had overrun the area to the point where the MP's were just concentrating on keeping them all contained within one general area more than anything else. The tent area was a demonstartion in organized anarchy, with amangers and stage crews running every which way as they struggled to keep ten different bands with different needs not only supplied with the materials they needed to perform on stage, but also to attend to the various needs and wants of the notoriously whimsical moods of some band members. There were so many people moving about in so many different styles of clothing and dress and appearance that Ashino, carrying a girl in his arms, with dried blood on his face, rips in his shirt and a feral smirk on his face went entirely unnoticed... even those that saw him just assumed he was one of the groupies for one of the hardcore rock bands... who were known to go a little crazy at concerts. Running by instinct Ashino kept moving, ignoring Jean's first attempts to struggle out of his arms, since her shock at being suddenly lifted and carried was wearing off. He had no time to consider her feelings on the matter though as they were still not out of danger... and likely wouldn't be until they managed to get out of the festival entirely. Luckily the band area had its own entrance and exit to the festival grounds... it was guarded but even if there were hundreds of groupies and fans inside the tent area, there were thousands more outside, all pressing forward to get in, tickets and passes or not. It did not take much effort on Ashino's part to shoulder his way through the crowd... many were more than happy to let him out, as if they thought it might increase their chances of getting in.

Jean's struggles were starting to grow much more intense... to the point where he was actually having to expend effort to hang onto her and she was starting to curse most freely, which would only cause a scene if he didn't do something about it. Once clear of the major portion of the fan crowd outside the festival area Ashino slowed his pace and eventually stopped in one of the grassy fields that had been converted into temporary parking for the festival. The only other people around were families with young children or the eldery, who, having spent a few hours at the festival, had become worn out and were headed home for a rest, probably to return later, since the festival was due to run most of the day. He gently lowered Jean onto her feet and let her go and stepped back a pace, still warily scanning the area. He had completely dismissed Jean as a threat and thus he wasn't watching her at all... a mistake as it turned out since then he was completely caught off guard when she slapped him hard on the left cheek, reopening the already scabbed knife wound. In truth he barely felt it, but the sound of flesh on flesh startled him and he stared at her in shock.

"What the hell do you think you were doing!?" Jean demanded. "What's the big idea, just picking me up like that!? Did I ask you to pick me up? I don't think so! What's up with you?" In truth her anger was mostly just a facade for the shock, concern and more than a little fear she was feeling. The fight with Sam, Brian and Marlene had been short, violent and to the point... utterly the opposite of what she'd wanted... she'd just wanted to give Brian and Co. a piece of her mind... now he was going to be hospitalized... she'd have a fuck of a time explaining all this to her parents. Then there was Ash, she'd grabbed his arm and urged him to run... thinking that they were probably caught anyway since she could see the white helmets of the MP's closing in on them already but they might as well run and see if they got lucky. But then events turned into a whirlwind... she was lifted and clasped by unyielding bands of muscle and bone as Ash picked her up like she was nothing at all and took off at a sprint that would have left an olympic 100 meter dasher in the dust. Ash was not only fast but almost peternaturally agile too... he didn't even bump her into anyone until they reached the tight packed fan crowd, while still maintaining his race speed pace. Any remaining doubts in her mind that he was indeed some sort of special forces soldier had been entirely banished by now... just what sort of soldier she wasn't sure though... not a pilot though. Or not just a pilot... he was like some movie hero or something... so strong, fast and sure of himself it was disenheartening... where was the shy, nervous introvert she'd bumped into anyway? And then just now, she'd slapped him with all her might, right on the cheek and he hadn't even turned his head, her hand felt like she'd just slapped a brick wall. Indeed there was blood on her palm, it took her a few seconds to realize it wasn't hers, she'd slapped Ash right on top of the knife cut Brian had given him, reopening the wound and... wait-a-minute.

Jean looked at her hand and the blood on it... it was mostly dark red and dried, not fresh red blood. She thought for a moment... it couldn't have been more than five minutes since Ash had been cut and was probably a lot less than that. And she'd seen the cut... it was no scratch... Brian had gotten Ash pretty good with the knife... four or so inches long, the cut had to be at least a quarter inch deep. How the hell had the wound clotted already... human blood didn't dry so fast, not when it was coming from a wound like that... come to think of it, she'd seen Marlene cut his chest up pretty good with her nails, but Ash's shirt was barely even wet, not even with sweat, much less the blood that should have been staining it from the fingernail punctures. Her eyes fell on Ash's cheek and widened so much she felt like they were about to fall out... she'd slapped him and he'd started bleeding again... fresh, bright red blood. But within seconds it had stopped again, the blood drying out into a crusty, leather like film that covered the wound like a thin coat of armor. "The Hell?" Jean whispered in wonder. Ashino saw whre she was looking and his heart sank... his identity was blown... by his own blood, which of course clotted and sealed his wounds with entirely superhuman speed. He didn't think he was going to be able to explain this one... especially to someone that very likely did not have an advanced biochemistry degree. Ashino started to turn, to look for another path to flee on... his only chance was to get back to the project as quickly as possible... he'd think of some explanation for the wounds on the way. "WAIT!" Jean called out. He froze in mid turn, for what reason he did not know... it wasn't an order from a recognized superior, he did not have to obey her... but all the same, his body locked up and kept him rooted in place.

"Don't run away from me, Ash." Jean told him quietly. Ashino blinked in surprise. "Please... I was just startled, that's all. I don't think I doubt you any more, ash. You really are in the special forces. Emphasis on the special part, I think. That stuff you did back there... I never imagined it could happen outside the movies."

"I haven't seen any movies like that." Ashino replied. "It's just the way I am, the way I was trained to be. The way I was made to be." he continued, unintentionally allowing more than a hint of bitterness into his voice. He wasn't looking at her face but he noticed the crystalline sparkle of liquid as it fell through the air. He looked up and noticed the wetness in her eyes. Tears? Why was she crying... he felt lost again. "Um... are you okay?"

"There was so much pain in your voice just then, Ash. Did you not want to be a soldier or something?" Jean asked, shuffling closer. Now that her shock and fear had faded somewhat, several new emotions had started taking control. She'd been hot and bothered when he'd taken down Sam... seeing him take the knife wound and then mop the floor with Brian and Marlene hadn't helped matters. And now he was back to the almost irresitably cute lost introvert, completely unsure of himself in any sort of social situation... it was almost too precious to bear. Okay... so she'd known him for like ten minutes, so what? She could not deny the overwhelming attraction she felt for him... spur of the moment thing due to her love of being violently protected or not. And then there was the pain in his voice... the sadness and near grief. Plainly something terrible had happened to Ash in the past, something that had forced him to become what he was today. She was a bit of a sucker for a guy with a sob story too... damn it, but he was pushing all her buttons the right way. And he wasn't even trying to, that she could plainly tell.

"Want to? What is want to? In my life, wanting to has no place." Ashino told her. He kept one eye on her this time as he continued to scan about for an exit route... just because she'd stopped him once didn't mean he might not have to run anyway. She kept moving closer and closer... slowly, cautiously, but inexorably. He was not at all sure of what he was supposed to do in this situation and that made him uncomfortable. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Jean smiled slightly... all right was such a relative term. She was mightily confused, enormously worried, more than a little fearful... and so horny that nothing else seemed to matter. Damn her warped mind for having this weakness but she felt so attracted to Ash right now it was driving her crazy. "Y-yeah. I'm great. Why do you ask?"

"You are crying. This is usually a symptom of distress or pain. You have been pushed to the ground several times recently... it is not beyond the pale that you might have suffered an injury not readily visible. And your body temperature has recently increased by about 1.5 percent. Your heart is pumping both more strongly and more rapidly... your breathing is shallow and fast... your eyes are slightly dilated. Your face is flushed and your hands are trembling slightly." Ashino noted. "Your body seems to be reacting to some stimulus... what though I'm not sure... some form of shock mayb..." he got no further. Jean had been leaning towards him the entire time and had just suddenly darted forward and thrown her arms around him, right about the "stimulus" part. He'd been gently trying to disengage her from him, but then, just as he was finishing "maybe", she'd tilted her head down and done something he was completely and utterly unprepared for. She kissed him. Right on the lips. Full on the lips. He'd thought it odd when he'd frozen at her command earlier... now he was beyond shock... his entire body felt numb and disconnected from his mind... she probably could have cut his throat with a butter knife right then and he wouldn't have been able to stop her. For the first time in his life, he was utterly a prisoner of his mind, rather than his body. Even during the most traumatic upgrade operation's he'd always been cognizant of his position... always awake and able to think. But this one kiss... this kiss made his mind blank... he couldn't think of anything to do, anything to say, anything at all. He just stood there, her arms around him, his arms awkwardly out to the side, petrified by the experience. Well mostly petrified... the Doc had done a lot to his mind and his instincts... but there were some instincts that the human psyche didn't just lose because of a few memory wipes and brain chemisty modifications. One such doughty instinct is what a male should do when a female willingly throws herself into his arms... you return the embrace. Cautiously... not trusting his ability to move his body with precision and not wanting to crush her in his grip, Ashino put his arms around Jean. He probably would have remained lost in the moment until the end of time if the real world hadn't felt the need to reassert the balance of things in his life and interrupted.

"Yuck, mommy, what are they doing?" a childish, young girl's voice said from about ten feet behind him.

"Vierna!" an older woman, she sounded about forty five or so, scolded. "Leave them be... it's just a kiss. God knows, you'll be acting like that too soon now." Ashino suddenly regained concious control of his body and he stumbled a half step back, disengaging his lips from Jeans. Their arms remained around each other though, and his balance was completely shot... so much so that he actually fell over, Jean landing on top of him with a small sound of protest.

"Mew... mew." the plushy cat that had somehow managed to remain, half forgotten, on his head, commented wryly. Ashino found himself looking at the young girl and the woman he presumed to be her mother. The girl was short, about ten, with pale green eyes and cherry red hair done up in a ponytail that hung to about the middle of her back... she was playing with it constantly with idle fingers. She had plae skin much the color of his own... indeed, her face was more than a little familiar in many ways to him... he looked at one much like it whenever he was around a mirror. So to for the older woman, though to a lesser extent... there was some resemblance between them, to be sure.

"Look, mommy! It's a Charcoal toy! I want one of those so I can show Charcoal when we get home! Mommy!" the young girl demanded, her disgust at the kiss quite forgotten, in the manner of young children. Her mother was a bit too distracted to reply though. For one, she'd noticed the angry looking cut along the boy's cheek... as a nurse who worked at a military hospital, she was more than familiar with all sorts of injuries, ranging from broken fingers to bullet wounds and she quickly recognized a knife slash when she saw one. The wound was odd... it was still wide and red, signs of a fresh wound, something sustained within the last half hour at most and probably a lot sooner than that... but it was also completely clotted over and almost scabbed... something which usually took more than an hour for a cut that size. But the knife wound was only the start of it... she was just reaching into her purse for the package of bandaides she always kept there... Vierna being a child who skinned her elbows and knees with almost intentional regularity... when she noticed the resemblance between the facial features, hair and eyes of the boy and not only herself and Vierna, but to a man she hadn't thought about for more than two years, ever since he attacked her and Vierna in a drunken stupor and was sent to jail for the next ten years. In fact, this well muscled young man looked a lot like the son she had lost all those years ago... she'd only stepped inside for a moment, just a moment... but the yard was empty when she got back and no one had seen a thing. She'd searched for two years, as had her husband... no trace was ever found of her youngest son. He'd just disappeared... no ransom note, no body, nothing. Just gone. Forever. She'd nearly gone insane... her husband had turned to alcohol to help him forget the pain of the loss. And then of course her two older boys... Vincent and John... had been killed during the ZAFT occupation of Panama the year before. She was still recovering her emotional balance, to be truthful... that was why she'd taken Vierna to the festival... both of them needed more hapiness in their lives.

"Do... I... do I know you?" the woman asked hesitantly. She thought a moment and prayed silently. "Do you know me?"

It didn't take Ashino more than a half second to references the faces he saw now to the ones shown to him down in the Doc's lab back when JIHAD still stood. They were clearly the same people, the faces being almost identical. And hadn't the Doc said his mother was working in Panama as a nurse? He felt strange... because he felt normal. There was no thrill of recognition... no sudden spurt of realization or relief. He knew who these people were... but he did not know them. It was like seeing someone in the paper, and then passing them on the street... there was no real connection in his mind, other than... "Oh, she's that person". Something about that felt terribly wrong to him... but he couldn't figure out why. Maybe he should have had some reaction to being suddenly reunited with his mother and sister... but he did not. "I know who you are." Ashino replied, his voice almost inflectionless. "I've seen a picture of you before."

"Are they related to you, Ash?" Jean asked, having recovered herself from her moment of desire. It hadn't taken her long to notice the familial resemblance either.

"I think so." Ashino replied. He gently removed Jean from on top of him and rolled to his feet. "I don't remember who you are, though I know what you are. You're my mother and my sister."

"That doesn't make any sense." Jean muttered. Ashino glanced down at her.

"My memory starts on June twelth, C.E. 71. Back to that point, I remember everything perfectly. Before that point I know only what I have read in reports and the few books I've been allowed to read." Ashino noted the look of confusion on Jean's face. "Memory wipes are not science fiction." he told her. He turned back to his mother and his rapidly quieting sister, who had sensed that something important was up. "I'm very sorry... I know that I am your son but I do not know you or remember you. Either of you. I'm sure that must be painful for you."

"Where did you go... Markov?" his mother asked, trembling.

Ashino was just about to reply when the air raid siren went off all over the base and rendered communication impractical. Ashino's eyes darted for the sky and found the firefiht almost instantly... a mobile suit combat was happening about a mile out to see and a few thousand feet up... from this distance he could even make out which mobile suit it was. The Duelist... piloted by Ysak Jule. The Gundam was blowing by the mobile suits of the 72nd armored core like they weren't there, utterly ignoring them. Ashino did a quick calcuation... the Duelist was heading for the project all right... probably after Asmodeus and Cray. Or maybe just wanting to neutralize the greatest threat first. Soon aother sound joined the wail of the air raid sirens... the incoherent screams of blind panic from tens of thousands of civilains and off duty soldiers who'd gone to the festival to relax and have a spot of fun... and now found themselves about to be thrust right back into the middle of the war.

Author's Note: I apologize for my lengthy break between chapters... work has been more hellish than hectic lately and my time has been even less of my own than normal. I will endeavor to keep writing, since i'm on a 4 day break, but try and bear with me if I do not post at my usual breakneck pace for the next while, until January at least. Thank you.


	68. The End of Ysak?

Ysak ignored the almost petulant beam blasts and tracer fire from the Strike Daggers and Strike Crusaders that formed the combat air patrol over this section of the Panama base. After encountering the fighter patrol earlier that morning he had submerged the Duelist just below the ocean's surface and come on like that... too low for radar and just in the right position that surface reflections would confuse and muddle sonar systems. Admittedly it hadn't been a fun or easy transit... the Duelist hardly being designed for long distance water travel, especially with the photon cloak, but he'd preserved. Physical discomfort caused by crashing waves was so far down on his list of concerns it might as well not even be there. Now, just before entering the harbor area proper, where the detection systems were both more advanced and more tightly packed, so much so that there was no way he could continue his stealthy infiltration with any chance of success, he had powered up his thrusters and burst forth from the sea like some atavistic sea monster, barely a mile off shore of the base proper. Of course he had been immediately spotted and given a cease and desist order from the nearest mobile suit, but Ysak had just turned off his comm systems... his enemies had nothing important to say to him and he had nothing to say to them that didn't come out of a weapon muzzle. He called up a map of the base that he had downloaded from the Archangel's systems while he and Katie had been planning this little excursion... the Archangel's operational computer security hadn't been the most challenging either he or Katie had ever cracked and the maps and other detailed information, most top secret, that they had managed to prise out of the Archangel's storage banks would likely prove more than a little useful. Among the data they had downloaded were complete maps of the entire Panama base, the surface portions, the harbor areas, the dug in bunkers and even the parts of the mountains that were hollowed out as supply caches and aircraft hangers. Although not an entirely self contained environment like JOSH-A was, Panama was still much like an iceberg... the buildings and fortifications you saw on the surface were only the tiniest bit of the actual base, which was largely underground. Ysak oriented the Duelist onto a flight path that would lead him towards an almost entirely innocuous cluster of white painted concrete buildings, each about eight stories tall and a few hundred meters long. If it weren't for the four meter fortified walls tipped with razor wire that surrounded that section of the base and the top secret base maps he had, Ysak never would have guessed it was anything other than a bunch of administrative builidings, perhaps the sort that dealt with confidential matters, thus explaining the wall.

But on the maps... which were accurate as of four months ago, the most recent he was ever likely to get without hacking into the Earth Alliance military network itself, a patent impossibility, since the computers were self contained systems in highly secure bunkers on either the Moon or in the heart of the Atlantic Federation... the maps revealed that this collection of buildings was more that it seemed to the naked eye and even to most sensor systems. These buildings were actually the Panama headquarters for a defense contractor known as Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers... and it didn't take a genius to connect one Cosmos to another. Indeed, as Ysak had found out in far too personal a manner, the very head of CWM was also the worldwide head of Blue Cosmos... Cervantes Zunnichi. And not only was the owner of the buildings special, but the buildings themselves, while fufilling their role as administrative centers, also served as cover for the rest of the top secret project site, which included several mobile suit hangers, barracks for nearly five hundred troops and several deeply buried buildings just labeled "labs". There were several connections between the mobile suit hangers here and the more top secret sections of the mobile suit manufacturing factories buried under the nearby coastal mountains, including what looked like a recent series of constructions that formed a massive hanger, big enough for a small space warship. Ysak didn't really care about that though... he was concentrated on the living quarters and smaller mobile suit hangers... that was where he would find Asmodeus and Cray. Once he destroyed those to a satisfactory extent and assured himself that those two murderous bastards were dead, then he could turn about and get the hell back to where he wanted to be... in Katie's arms. Ysak left off studying the maps now that he knew where he was going and refocused on getting there in the first place. From his vantage point, at about two thousand three hundred feet in altitude, he could see the entire base spread out before him.

Off to his left were the harbors and naval facilities for the base, as well as several airstrips and assorted hangers, supply buildings and offices. Currently there were at least three aircraft carriers in the harbor, along with a score of destroyers and eight cruisers, at an initial estimate... a portion of the fleet that had returned from the Australian Maneuver. Ysak snorted... what a ridiculous name for a military operation... it sounded like something from a class B war movie. To his right were the army portions of the base, long rows of barracks's and training/parading grounds, huge buildings for the storing of war vehicles and dozens of mobile suit hangers. To his front and below was administrative offices and a large park, currently filled with what looked like some sort of festival or large scale party... even from almost a mile away Ysak could make out multiple stages, a large ferris wheel and several other rides, along with what looked like at least twenty thousand people. He smiled... that was good... the more soldiers partying the less there would be to get in his way, which meant there would be less for him to have to fight and perhaps kill. Beyond the adminstrative park there were more supply areas and eventually mountains, which concealed even huger supply caches and several launch strips for aircraft, along with dozens of defensive emplacements, many of which were now starting to fire at him. Winding in and around the mountain range was the new Porta Panama mass driver, still in the late middle stages of construction... it wasn't due to begin full scale operations for another two or three months yet, even though the Alliance was building it as fast as they could manage. The top secret project area he was headed towards was just beyond the edges of the administrative areas, on the army side of things and set well back from the coastline. Ysak dodged and rolled the Duelist through the barrage of enemy fire almost idly... he'd been good enough to stay out of this kind of harm's way for a long time now. He knew that he could activate the so called SEED mode if he had to... but he was now concious of the long term downsides to spending long periods of time like that... if he collapsed from exhaustion way out here in enemy territory that was the end of it for him. He'd wait until he was closer to his enemies... especially if he had to do some real fighting.

Eric cursed foully, as only frustrated soldiers could. The damned UFO... well, it was a mobile suit, but that really didn't narrow things down much these days, was harder to hit than an eight ball in a pitch dark pool hall. He'd given up trying to get a solid target lock on the slippery bastard and was just blasting away with the railgun and hyper impulse cannon... using the missiles would only be a waste, so he kept that part of his Strike Crusader's arsenal saved for later. He listened to his squadron chatter with gritted teeth... he wasn't the only person having issues with the enemy. Just his fucking luck, getting stuck with patrol duty on the day of the festival... maybe he and the guys shouldn't have TP'd that fat bastard of a colonel's house last week. But the bastard had it coming, shredding all those leave requests in public like that, just cause a few of the machines had been having maintenance problems. It had been bad enough initially, since his younger sister Jean had flown all the fucking way out here from New New York just to see him and now he was on fucking watch when he could have been showing her around the festival. But now, of course, he had to deal with this psycho, who was admittedly a damn good pilot, but suicidal all the same. There was no way a single mobile suit could take on all of Panama base. Well, he'd heard rumors of some monster MS that had pretty much wiped out the 12th Lunar fleet single handed, but Eric had learned not to put much stock in spacer stories... when they werent tremendously exaggerated they were just plain fucking lies. Eric keyed his comm panel again, hoping against hope that he could talk the crazy son of a bitch down... there was no reason this had to end in yet another senseless death. "This is First Lieutenant Eric Kellson, of the third squadron, 72nd Autonomous Core, calling the pilot of the unidentified mobile suit trespassing on Panama Airspace. I say again... halt your forward progress and power down your systems. This is not a joke. This is your final warning. Power down now or you WILL be destroyed. There is no way you can take us all on, I don't care who you think you are." The hiss of an empty comm line was his only response.

"I don't think he's listening." The laconic voice of First Lieutenant Allen Morton, his wingmate, commented from his squadron channel. "Fact is, I think he's purposefully ignoring us."

"You'd be the expert on that, I suppose." Eric couldn't resist a dig at his friend, even during combat. Allen's nickname was "Say Again" Morton...for his penchant for experiencing "comm difficulties, damn it" whenever he received orders he didn't agree with. "I agree with you though, he's being deliberately obtuse. At least he isn't shooting back at us yet." Eric frowned as he missed yet again... not by much, he never did miss by much, but miss he did.

"Course we ain't doing all that much to him either." Allen voiced his friends thoughts out loud. "The reinforcements are still about a minute and a half off... the rest of the boys were back round the other side of the mountains when this blighter popped out of the sea. Way I see it, unless we stop him good and proper sometime in the next thirty seconds, hes just gonna blow past us like we was old leaves and then who the fuck knows where he'll go from there."

"Where is he going, anyway?' Eric muttered, taking a few moments to try and plot a trajectory. His computer crackled and fitzed and then spat out an answer... but it didn't make any sense. "He's headed for the old top secret admin offices... the ones that civilian company uses for office space nowadays. Why the hell is he going there... there's nothing of military importance there."

"Plenty of civilians though." Allen noted darkly, serious now. "That flight path will take him right over the middle of the festival. That ain't no EA model MS either, you mark my words. Don't look like no ZAFT model either but it's damned hard to tell these days, given the number of new design's they're pumping out. Like those Efreet... shee-it!"

"ZAFT wouldn't target civilians... their public would crucify them." Eric replied, firing once again with his hyper impulse cannon, with Allen firing in concert to try and catch the enemy in a cross fire. The mobile suit braked in mid air, tumbled downwards almost a hundred feet and then righted itself and flew on, like nothing untoward had happened and it hadn't just dodged two nearly point blank shots from well trained pilots like they were nothing.

"I'm not so sure I'd still be saying that after Australia... them'd be none to happy about those nukes, I don't think. Bad fucking business there, man. Bad fucking business." Allen answered. "I don't think we can afford to take the chance that this here crazy son-bitch ain't after the civilians. Imagine the blow to morale if'n all those bands and whatnot got wiped out in the middle of the damn base... by god we'd never have another MWR event here again."

"Not to mention how torn up everyone would be with their friends and families dead..." Eric added, thinking of Jean. He hoped suddenly that she wasn't at the festival... though he knew it was unlikely... not much else exciting to do while waiting for him to come down off a six hour CAP. The unidentified mobile suit was now almost level with them, if a few hundred feet below, almost to the shore line. "I can't let that happen." He stowed the hyper impulse cannon and snatched out his beam sword, powering his thrusters up into a rolling dive for the enemy... not the most graceful of moves in a Strike Crusader, but it worked.

"Right behind you, man. I can't let yon squirrely bastard through neither... I haven't got to meet your sister yet." Allen replied, likewise rolling his Crusader into a dive, sword out and blazing. "Let's see if'n we can't force him to the ground... right now he's got the advantage of us, since these fat bastards aren't built for the aerial arena."

Ysak frowned angrily... those two Strike Crusaders just could not take a hint and leave him alone... they had ceased firing at him but were now diving down at him, beam swords out, shields front, almost like they thought they really had a chance of stopping him. Plainly they had no idea who they were facing. Maybe it wouldn't hurt his mission to inform them... the more people he could frighten or intimidate away, the fewer he would have to fight. He flicked on his comm board and scouted through recently recieved comms, quickly alighting on the channel that had been repeatedly trying to contact him within the last few minutes. "This is Ysak Jule, in the Duelist. Attacking Strike Crusaders, can you hear me?"

"Oh, so now he wants to talk." Allen commented wryly, maintaining his dive. "T'ain't so easy, chickadee. We gave you a chance to talk." Eric nodded agreement but could not stop himself from at least answering the guy... who didn't sound a whole lot older than his sister Jean.

"I hear you, Ysak. My name is Eric Kellson. I'm in one of the two Crusaders currently bearing down on you. I urge you one last, final time... power down your mobile suit and surrender... there is no reason for you to die here today." Eric pleaded.

"I cannot comply." Ysak replied. "I have unfinished business with two people here on this base. Once I have completed this business with them I will leave and bother you no further. I urge you for the first AND last time... cease your attack or I will destroy you. Both of you."

"Now listen 'ere, you arrogant SOB... we have you outnumbered and practically surrounded. There's two of us right now... in five minutes there'll be twenty and five minutes beyond that, two hundred. I don't care what sort of super-ace you think you is, theres no way you can survive against those sort of odds." Allen cut in. "We don't want no trouble... but we can't just let you fly in here, business trip or not." Allen looked at his instruments. "You have ten seconds to power down and land... if you fail to comply I will KNOCK YOU out of this 'ere SKY by FORCE! Do you un-ner-stand me?"

"In five minutes I will have done what I came here to do. If not, then I will likely already be dead. I do not wish to die... I have too much to live for. I understand your order, but I WILL NOT comply. The only way you can stop me is to shoot me down. Ysak Jule... over and out." Ysak cut off his comm board again. That had been a wasted effort. But he had made the effort... his conscience was now clear, if it hadn't been already. He waited for the Crusader's to get closer... to over commit...and then he sideslipped the Duelist to the side, turning a roll into a dive and then a loop that ended with him behind them and above them, as they scrambled to pull out of their missed dives, yellowish beam swords slashing at empty air in futile gestures. Ysak had no more time to waste with them. He activated his railgun and armed his twin 57mm beam rifle. He took aim and started the fight that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

"Goddamn he's good!" Eric swore again as he and Allen went careening through the empty space where Ysak had been just a few scant moments before. "He made us look like fools right there. Damn, but what I would give for one of those jet-wing Strike Dagger's... our Crusaders just can't match that maneuverability. The reduction in firepower would hurt, but all these weapons don't do me any fucking good if I can't even line up a good shot."

"Tell me about it." Allen answered, banking the unwieldy Strike Crusader around as he struggled to kill his downward momentum without stalling out. It was like guiding a boulder through the air... the simulators always made it look and feel easier than it actually was. Allen resolved to speak strongly with someone about that if and when he made it back from this fight. That started to look more and more problematic as the enemy finally opened fire, utilizing a high caliber railgun much like the one his Crusader carried on its right shoulder as well as a beam rifle that spat two beams at once. The first few shots bracketed him, chewing up dirt and flame in the outskirts of the park below... but Allen recognized that those shots were intentional misses, fired to help the enemy calculate which way he would swerve. It was a tactic not commonly used except by the best of the best... most pilots looked for quick kills, not sure ones. Allen sure didn't use it... he trusted to his targeting systems and steady hand... but all the very best aces and instructors always went on about what a great tactic it was. Allen could tell what a great tactic it was... he hadn't even dodged yet and now he was afraid to, because once the enemy got inside his head, it was all over. Hell, the bastard was already halfway there, just given how scared Allen suddenly was. "Uh... can you get this son of a bitch OFF MY ASS, PLEASE!?"

"Working on it..." Eric replied tightly, putting his lumbering Crusader through an approximation of a barrel roll, coming out face to the sky and somewhat pointed at Ysak, who was still perfecting his aim on the rapidly panicking Allen. Eric thumbed his railgun and missile triggers... not because he expected to hit anything, but just to distract the enemy long enough for Allen to turn around and be able to fight back. It was to no avail... the gatling mount on the left shoulder swiveled around and vomited forth a hail of small caliber beam blasts which shredded the flight of missiles into so much scrap, incidentally pockmarking Eric's Crusader along the shoulders and upper torso... just cosmetic damage but still scary... few pilots had the skills to not only shoot down incoming missiles but also manage to attack in the same motion. Eric was starting to get a very bad feeling about this... especially with reinforcements still most of a minute away. His railgun shot just bounced off the shield of Ysak's mobile suit... what had he called it... the Duelist. Meanwhile Ysak had finished zeroing in on Allen's Crusader... not really a necessary action, with the highly advanced targeting system the Duelist boasted, but Ysak had always been a bit old school with things like that. He was one of the few pilots who still used the manual target scope for ranged weapon fire, rather than just relying on the primary screen and targeting systems. His next railgun shot blew the right leg off the Crusader he'd been shooting at, while two seperate blasts from his rifle... four beams in total... blew through the upper and lower torso sections of the enemy machine, transmuting it from a boxy if still somewhat awesome mobile suit into an amalgamation of flaming metal junk.

Eric's face was white and his lips were tightly clenched over his gritting teeth... he'd heard Allen's death scream over the comm line and there was nothing he could do about it... Allen was gone. There had been no chance of ejecting either, not at this speed and certainly not with the cockpit facing the ground. The wreckage that had formerly housed Allen tumbled to the ground and exploded again as it rolled through a grassy parking lot filled with parked cars, touching off the fuel cells of several dozen cars, which spread further fire and debris in a wide radius. The destroyed Crusader gouged out a runnel of dirt nearly two hundred feet long before it slewed to a halt, not even slightly recognizable as a war machine. "You fucker." Eric muttered. He flipped the Crusader around again, ignoring the groans from the structure as he pushed the machine more than a little past design tolerances in his efforts to confront his friend's killer. He still had his sword out and he kept it out... this was personal now and he intended to finish it personal style. He rapidly closed the difference... too rapidly, he suddenly realized, unless the enemy machine was also closing with him. He barely brought his shield up in time to accept the shield charge from the Duelist as both machines fired themselves directly into one another, stunning both pilots and rupturing Eric's shield in a crunch of metal. Both mobile suits utterly lost their forward momentum and it was all either of them could do to regain enough equilibrium to land their machines on their feet and not their faces. They came down in yet another grassy field/converted parking lot, about eighty feet apart. Ysak squarely planted the Duelist's feet, careless of the cars he crushed beneath his feet and of the people running about like panicked ants behind and around him. Eric found himself with his machine down on one knee, torn and shattered shield hanging limply from his left arm, beam sword lying deactivated at his feet. He shook the broken shield off of his arm and picked up the sword hilt again, which promptly reactivated once it had reconnected to his battery power supply. He checked the reading... still had more than fifty percent power... good, he had a feeling he might need every last gasp of power his mobile suit had to give him.

"That's my brother's mobile suit!" Jean yelled in Ashino's ear, from where they lay almost underneath a large jeep like vehicle. Ashino had thrown himself over Jean the moment the first Crusader had hit the ground and exploded, well aware of the danger of flying debris. In doing so he had lost track of his mother and sister, who were now no longer anywhere to be seen or heard. Ashino shrugged slightly. Oh well, no loss to him. He thought about that for a moment, while dirt and metal flakes pattered down around him. Some of Lacus's words came back to him... he'd lost so much he didn't even realize he'd lost anything. He hadn't understood at the time, but it was suddenly a lot more clear to him. Here he was, with his only remainingly family possibly dead or injured... and he didn't even care. He was rocked... more stunned than a hundred powerful blows to the head could ever accomplish. Such emptiness within him... he didn't know what to do next. "That's my brother's mobile suit!" Jean cried again, as if he hadn't heard her the first time.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still half lost in thought.

"Yes, I'm fucking sure." Jean retorted angrily before gaining a modicrum of control over herself... yelling at Ash wasn't going to help the situation any. "Look, you can tell for yourself. It's got the emblem of the 72nd AC on the right shoulder and both thighs, just like it is here on my shirt. And my brother is in the third squadron, the second unit, thus the number's 3 and 2 on the left shoulder. I've seen it in the hanger before... that's my fucking brother's mobile suit!"

"He's in trouble then." Ashino noted, somewhat undiplomatically. He noticed Jean's scathing and frightened look. "Look... I've fought the guy your brother is facing down before. Unlike with Sam and Brian, I was seriously trying to kill him then. He's still here. I am too... but you have some idea of my skills. Your brother is in deadly danger if he continues to fight against Ysak Jule. He will lose."

"My brother's pretty damned good... he's got two GINN kills to his credit already and he always dominates on the simulator." Jean declared hotly. Ashino grinned without humor.

"Ysak is a Coordinator, one of the red elites. No, I'm sorry, I forgot, he's one of the Ace-Commanders... the white coats, now. He has fought in almost every major battle since Heliopolis, including the first attack upon Panama and the attack on JOSH-A. He was partly responsible for the destruction of the 8th fleet and the destruction of the space station Artemis. He has fought and survived against such notables as Mu La Flaga and the Archangel. I don't recall the exact number of Alliance kills he has to his credit, but let me assure you, it is a good deal more than two. If you were to compile a list of the top twenty most dangerous people on the Earth right now, he would be solidly on the list. I tell you this not because I admire the bastard... quite the opposite, I hate him quite strongly. But your brother is out of his league." Ashino told her. Jean's confident look faded more and more with each sentence, until she was near tears when Ashino had gotten to his loose guestimate of the number of Ysak's kills.

"Well then what do we do? I don't wanna see my brother get killed!" Jean said fiercely. Ashino nodded.

"I don't want to sit here and watch him die either." he told her. He rolled to his feet and broke out the window the jeep with an elbow, unlatching the driver side door in a single motion. He pulled himself into the vehicle, unlocking the doors with the press of a button as he went. "Get in the jeep... we need transportation."

"But this isn't your car... how are you going to..." Jean trailed off as she looked at him speculatively. "Special Forces?" she asked as she climbed into the passenger side door, just as her brother brought his crusader to it's feet not fifty feet away.

"Special Forces." Ashino confirmed, tearing the key port cover off the drive column and extricating the wires inside... luckily this was an older model, which still had wires from the key ignition to the starter and alternator... newer vehicles had wireless connections and were thus almost impossible to hotwire without specialty equipment. Within seconds the jeep's engine was roaring with power. Ashino adjusted the car seat all the way forward and down, so that his legs could reach the gas and brake pedals. To see over the dashboard he had to practically stand, but it wasn't like he needed to go far... just a few miles. He probably could have run the distance as a last resort, but that would mean leaving Jean behind in the middle of the fight... and for some reason the sensation of her lips on his kept him from just abandoning her to the mercy of the battlefield. A note for his book, for sure, once he had the time. "Hang on... I've never actually driven this class of vehicle before outside of simulators."

"Where are we going?" Jean asked as Ashino shifted into reverse, gunned the engine and brought the bulky jeep out into a wide reverse turn, ending only when his rear bumper crushed the front end of a sports car in the row behind him. "Damn... that's a good six thousand dollar repair bill right there... hope you really are rich, Ash."

"He can take it up with my boss." Ashino replied, grinning just slightly at the thought of some luckless bastard trying to explain to Asmodeus how Ashino owed him money for a car repair bill. "We're going to my mobile suit. My... comrades... will probably already be scrambling but if they aren't I will. If I can prevent it, I won't let your brother die, as long as he can hang on for a few more minutes."

"I hope he can... I think he knows he's outclassed though, judging by how cautiously he's moving... he's never this cautious in the simulators." Jean said with worry, watching her brother square off with Ysak as the fight began to recede behind them.

"Much harder to die terribly in simulators." Ashino noted. Jean punched him in the arm... and then rubbed her smarting fist. Ashino kicked himself mentally... comments like that, true as they may have been, were probably not doing much for Jean's mental state. Why he cared was another issue altogether, another one for the notebook. A memory of those soft lips again... when was that going to get out of his head?

"Why?" Jean's question caught him off guard as they left the parking lot and swerved onto the road that lead back towards the project area.

"Why what?" he asked, keeping most of his attention on getting the most speed out of the car while also dodging... and sometimes not dodging... the other, generally smaller cars that were flooding onto the road as thousands of people attempted to flee the battle zone all at once.

"Why help me? Why beat up Sam and Brian? Why go to all this trouble to save my brother, whom you've never met and don't know? Why all this, for me, someone who's last name you don't even know... someone you've only known for about a half hour now? Why?" Jean asked. "Is it because I kissed you?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Ashino muttered. Jean coughed in surprise. Ashino gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. "Don't misunderstand me, Jean. I have no physical attraction to you I know of. As you say, I barely know you and don't know your brother at all. By all rights, by all my training and conditioning, I should never have gotten even slightly involved with you. Certainly I should have left you back in the parking lot... it might actually have been safer for you. But for that kiss... it's affecting me... can't get the memory out of my head. Making me do things that are counter to my training and conditioning... and its not even hurting me. Huh... imagine that, I didn't even realize that till now. Don't ask me why. I do not know. I am very poor with emotional things. Females often seem to know more about how I am feeling than I do myself. Certainly one in particular seems to have figured more out about how I feel than I even know now and she barely knew me for any longer than you yourself do."

Jean digested that for a few seconds... the gates to the project facility were in sight now, only a mile or so further down the road... less than a minute away at this speed. "I won't pretend I have any idea about what you're talking about. I know even less about you than you know about me. That incident with the woman and the child... your mother and sister that you recognized but did not know... yeah, that was more than a little wierd. Your fast scabbing wound... your speed and strength and toughness... I don't know what's up with those either. I do know that I feel very strongly for you... not in a romantic sense, though theres some of that too... but in a sympathetic sense. There's a lot of pain in your past... so much you've lost, much of which you don't even seem to remember losing. I think I want to find out more about you, later, after my brother is safe and things are back to normal. You think we can do that?"

Ashino took one hand off the wheel and started pressing buttons on his belt pager, which had started to vibrate the moment he'd gotten out of range of th ECM being deployed by both mobile suits. He glanced over at her and nodded slightly. "I will do what I can to ensure that as well." He paused a moment more. "I don't suppose we could also..." his voice trailed off. Jean misunderstood the pause for a polite gesture. She smiled slightly to herself.

"Don't worry about it Ash... I wasn't lying when I said there was also a romantic attraction from me to you. You save my brother's ass to and let me assure you, a kiss will be the least of the rewards I'll give you."

Ashino shifted slightly and shrugged. "Thanks, I guess. But I was going to ask if I could find out about you too... just talking. I need help figuring out the whole human-emotional type thing and I was hoping you could be that help." Jean stared at him, mouth and eyes agape. Boy, had she ever misread him and put her own foot into her mouth just then... offering him kinky rewards when he wasn't even asking for them.

"S-sure t-thing, Ash." Jean replied, hastily trying to recover from her embarassment. She turned her eyes back to the road and choked out a screech of panic... the gates were still shut and they were less than a few hundred feet away... still moving at greater than ninety miles per hour. And these weren't chain link gates... no, these were solid steel security doors, the kind built expressly to keep even large, multiton speeding vehicles on the public side of the doors. Certainly the jeep wasn't going to be busting through them anytime soon. But her fears proved unfounded as the doors slid open to either side on well oiled hinges with more than fifty feet to spare. Ashino slammed on the brakes before they even crossed the threshold, throwing them both forward against hastily buckled seat restraints as the jeep's tires squealed and smoked, bringing them to a halt just shy of the steps leading into the primary office building. Ash already had the door open and was standing outside by the time she had even unbuckled her seatbelt. A thin, pale man wearing a white lab coat cam charging out of the office building, a clipboard clenched tight in one hand, glass perched on his nose and a sneer of mixed panic and prissyness on his face.

"BCPU 4, where the FUCK have you been? We've been paging you for nearly..." the man looked at his watch. "... nearly three minutes and forty seconds now. Where the hell did you get off to? You're a disgrace to the program... you were supposed to launch a minute ago! You're holding everything up!" the doctor continued with a mighty frown. He noticed several more things out of place. "That's not your uniform! What the HELL is this? Those are civilian clothes! You know you're not allowed to wear civilian clothes. You know what the punishment is for wearing normal clothing, don't you?"

"I know it's irrelevant at the moment." Ashino replied calmly. "I was supposed to launch a minute ago... why are you delaying me further?"

"Don't get lippy with me, you freak!" the doctor snapped. "Now that the Doc is dead, I'm the head of the BCPU project here. I'm not nearly as tolerant as the Doc was, you'll find. You'll do as I say and not give me any backtalk about it. I want this to be clear... you are a THING, not a PERSON!"

"What the fuck is this guy's deal, Ash? He's not your boss, is he?" Jean asked quietly. Ashino considered that.

"No... technically he's not my boss. He's just part of my support crew who think's he's my boss. Thanks for asking me that... I might not have realized that without your prompting."

"Who the hell are you?" the doctor asked Jean, moving towards her with one arm pointing angrily. "Why the hell are you here? Are you even cleared to be here? Guards, guards, arrest this girl! Arrest this... ugh!" the doctor was stopped in mid tirade when Ashino drove his fist into his solar plexus, driving all the breath from him and leaving him writhing in agony on the ground.

"Nobody touches Jean." Ashino commented to the doctor. He turned to Jean and beckoned her onward, into the building. The first floor was mostly meeting areas, reception rooms, secretary offices and a snack bar. There was also a bank of elevators... Ashino led the way to the second from the left, which, like the others, featured a security keypad. Though this elevator only went down, not up. Ashino typed in his security code and then pulled Jean into the elevator behind him, before the door could close to lock her out. For a moment he thought the elevator would freeze, but apparently someone important had decided that if Ashino felt strongly enough about keeping Jean close that he would assault a senior staff member, it was probably best to keep humoring him for the meanwhile. The elevator dropped fast and far... descending more than a hundred feet in less than four seconds.

"Woah." Jean commented as her stomach flipped slightly. "WOAH!" she exclaimed when she saw what the newly opened door of the elevator revealed... an entirely underground mobile suit hanger... a big one too. The elevator had stopped about two thirds of the way down from the top of the hanger... there was still a good fifty foot drop to the floor of the hanger, where scores of jumpsuit clad men and women were scurrying about in extreme haste. The hanger was far from empty too... four mobile suits almost completely filled the available space. These mobile suits weren't of any model that Jean recognized... and she'd memorized the recognition charts her brother mailed to her... she was proud of him and wanted to know as much about him and his job as possible. Plus it gave her something to do when looking at live news feeds and recordings of battles. She'd often compare notes with her brother via email to see if she could make out more enemy specifications than he could from the same tape. They weren't ZAFT models, that was for sure... well, the one farthest away had a few ZAFT features... but they were certainly not any sort of Strike Dagger or even Strike Crusader variant. The first one in line was short, its head being barely at the level of the catwalk the elevator had stopped at. It was painted in splotches of crimson and dark green, reminding Jean for some reason of blood spilled on tarplin. The one after that was huge, towering at least fifty feet above her position, which was about at waist level. The purple, silver and black mobile suit was festooned with massive weapons of all sorts... more than she could easily recognize, including two massive back mounted cruise missiles. The third in line was of a more normal size, about sixty feet tall, with a white painted body and a black skull like head. Finally, the last mobile suit, the one with the wings and ZAFTish features, was painted white, blue and red. "Individual paint schemes... you really are in a special unit, Ash." Jean breathed. She whirled when she heard someone clearing their throat in frustrated exasperation.

"Who is the young lady, Ashino?" Asmodeus asked wearily. He had just climbed up to the catwalk from the hanger floor. Frost and Cray were at his heels, both already flight suited and ready to go. "And why is a civilian in my top secret hanger?"

"This is my boss." Ashino muttered to Jean. Jean studied the man... there wasn't much to him. Average build, average height, average weight... greying hair, still black mustachios. There was nothing on which to hang her eyes. Not until she saw his, anyway. The pale, icy blue eyes that froze her right in her spot like freezing beams of emptiness. She shivered... never had she imagined eyes like that existed... that something as simple as a gaze could affect her so much. She felt more self concious and out of place than she ever had before in her life... it was worse than suddenly finding oneself naked in front of all your schoolmates. "This is Jean... she was with me when the Duelist grounded itself in the park outside the festival. It wasn't safe for her there, so I brought her here." Ashino replied calmly, meeting Asmodeus's gaze firmly.

"Very well. I can tell we'll be having another discussion on security policies in the future, but theres little use crying over spilt milk now. Get out of those clothes before one of the doctors has a heart attack and get into the Bane. You three are going to eliminate this foolish Coordinator before he gets any closer to here... and here he is coming. He wants me, I know. And probably wants Cray too. Foolish... stupid... childish." Asmodeus shook his head with each word. He tossed Ashino a folded flight suit. Ashino wasted no time in stripping off his shirt and boots. He was unbuckling his pants when he noticed Jean's look of astonishment and embarassment. For some reason this gave him pause... not long, but enough for his boss and peers to notice.

"Ashino's got a girlfriend!" Cray said mockingly. "Ashino's got a girlfriend!" Asmodeus just sighed and placed his hands over his eyes, already dreading the future... it was plain to his experienced eye that there was some attraction between Ashino and this girl Jean... mostly from her to him, but Ashino had paused too. There was nothing in the protocol books for BCPU's about this situation... it wasn't ever supposed to happen. If it had been Cray or Frost it would have been easy... just wait a week or so and they'd kill the girl off or discard her for another. Asmodeus doubted Ashino, for all his impartiality and emotional coldness, was the sort of man to casually discard a female he had some feelings for... much less kill her. He'd heard testimony from Frost and Cray... dubious sources, sure... but testimony nonetheless about how Ashino had reacted to Lacus Clyne. But nor could Asmodeus take matters into his own hands and just get rid of the girl... if Ashino had not paused that would have been an option, but pause he had... which meant there was feeling. And where there was feeling there would be memory... and with memory came attachment. And with attachment would come retribution, if harm came to the girl. This was precisely why BCPU's were never allowed to have personal possessions. But again... it was a little late now. Nothing for it but to contain the situation by keeping the girl secure and regrettably alive until Asmodeus could figure out a workable solution.

"Nice nail marks, Ashino." Frost said almost casually as Ashino pulled on the flight suit. "Wouldn't know it from looking at her, but she seems to be pretty feisty." he switched his attention to Jean. "You like being hurt... don't you? I can hurt you, if you'd like."

"Wah... what... the fuck?" Jean stammered. "What sort of question is that, you little runty midget?"

"Little runty midget... she's got a mouth, she does." Cray cackled. "Don't she, dwarf?" he asked Ashino. Ashino ignored him. "You got yourself a mouthy, girlyfriend of Ashino. Be careful though... theres more use for mouths than words and if you keep being insulting I'll be more than happy to show you some of them."

"Stop this NOW!" Asmodeus's voice cracked like a whip. "Continue your verbal needling AFTER you have crushed Ysak Jule into bloody paste."

"You're no fun." Cray whispered. Ashino fully zipped up his flight suit as Cray and Frost began to board their mobile suits. He looked over at Asmodeus.

"She'd better be alive when I come back. If she isn't do not mistakenly believe I will not kill you, not even if Frost himself is protecting you."

"Why, Markov... it's almost like you don't trust me." Asmodeus said with a bare hint of a grin. "Don't worry yourself... you're still too valuable to Mr. Zunnichi's plans for me to risk having to put you into the hospital just because you felt like you have to protect your girlfriend."

"I trust you, sir. I trust you to do what's best for Mr. Zunnichi and yourself. That's all I trust you to do... anyone who trusts you to do more is fooling themselves. I warn you again... do NOT harm Jean. You will answer to me for anything bad that befalls her while she is in your care. She is not my girlfriend. She's... my... psychologist, I suppose you could say. Now trust me, sir. You'll much enjoy the improvment in my attitude and performance as long as she's around."

"Is that a promise, Ashino?" Asmodeus asked, speculatively. He hadn't realized Ashino was the sort who'd try and cut a deal. Interesting.

"You can regard it as a certainty, if that's what you are asking. I don't make promises... the word of a BCPU means nothing to Naturals, this I know." Ashino replied. He headed for the Bane but was stopped by Jean's hand on his arm. He could hear Cray snickering from inside his cockpit and he could feel Frost's stare eating into his back.

"Save my brother, please." Jean said one more time.

"If it is at all possible, it will be done." Ashino replied. He started to walk again but again allowed himself to be stopped by her hands on his arm.

"Come back alive." Jean whispered. Ashino smirked slightly and leaned closer to her.

"It is difficult to come back dead, in my profession. Don't worry about me... this battle is not big enough to be my end. Remember that, no matter what happens. And DON'T trust Asmodeus. As soon as you can, get out of this base. Run away. Do not remain here any longer than absolutely necessary. If you are here when I return, you will never leave here again, alive. You're resourceful, I think... you'll find a way out." Asmodeus cleared his throat again. Cray could be heard giggling and Frost's silence was almost loud enough to hurt. "Don't worry about finding me...I'll find you." Ashino left her with that and boarded the Bane, strapping himself in and conducting the fastest preflight checkoff he'd ever managed. he watched through his external cameras as Asmodeus escorted Jean off into the depths of the base... hopefully eventually to one of the surface rooms, from which she could work out some sort of escape. Most of the security on the project was directed at keeping people out, not in... except for the actual BCPU quarters and labs that is. If need be, Ashino would help her escape, though he hoped it would not come to that... if he was back it would mean Frost and Cray were back too... and they would complicate things far too much for his comfort. Cray may have mocked him and Frost may have kept his silence... but Ashino was no fool... they were jealous of him... jealous that a girl was actually willing to be with him, not out of fear but out of... dare he think it... love. If they could, they would kill her... after they despoiled her, of course. Ashino put that out of his mind... right now he had a brother to save.

Eric was not having a good time. He'd been on the defensive for the last few minutes... heavily on the defensive. He'd thought he was saved when the remaining four mobile suits of the 72nd AC third squadron had showed up two minutes ago... racing in from the north with all guns and missiles blazing. It had certainly looked impressive and probably would have shaken a lesser opponent enough to at least slow him down... four strike Crusaders could unload a serious amount of firepower. Ysak, however, didn't even slow down in his constant forward grinding. Eric had been doing his best to dodge the railgun and beam fire from the Duelist with more success than he'd hoped... he hadn't sustained any crippling damage yet, but it had been really hard on the cars and property around him... a crowded festival parking lot was hardly an optimal place for a mobile suit battle. The reinforcements had not lasted long. Captain Vance was in the lead and also the first to die. Ysak absorbed his hyper impulse shot on the cloaky thing that hung from the back of the Duelist, soaking up thousands of megawatts of energy like it was water into a giant sponge and deflected the railgun shot with his shield, the deflected shot utterly disintegrated a luxury sedan instead of the Duelist. His return fire was short and efficient... just like every other movement Eric observed the son of a bitch make. No wasted effort, no wasted time... just pure, murderous efficiency. The twin beam rifle melted two holes right through Captain Vance's cockpit, sending the still flying Crusader in a wobbling spiral towards the ground, where it impacted in the food court area of the festival... luckily mostly evacuated... and bounced, landing again right at the base of the ferris wheel and mangling the support structures, causing the stately amusement ride to fold over into itself like a collection of straws.

Captain Fredricks, the squadron XO, had been next to go, his Crusader enveloped by a cloud of small caliber beam blasts from the gatling mount on the Duelists's left shoulder, it burst through the cloud smoking from so many small black holes it looked like the machine had some form of plague. Six missiles corkscrewed out of a launcher on the Duelist's left hip and headed for Fredricks like sharks for bloody water. The resultant explosion of mobile suitand missiles gouged out a shallow crater nearly twenty meters in diameter, wiping the area clean of cars and people like a rag wiping upa dirty counter. By this time the remaining two members of the reinforcement squadron, Lieutenants First class Jondervan and Second class Emelia Holden, had closed to the point where they could land with swords drawn to take the fight to the enemy. This did not improve their chances of victory, in fact they probably would have been better off staying at long range, since the Duelist did not have much of anything for long range combat... Eric noted that all of its weapons seemed configured for short and medium range combat... even the railgun was more an extension of a punch than a actual long range tool. Eric had executed one of his own trademark moves, switching his beam saber from right hand to left much like a knife fighter switching hands, he brought his hyper impulse cannon up into his right hand again and stomped closer to support his squadronmates... dangerous, maybe, but if he could get close enough, to within point blank range, there would be no way the enemy could dodge or deflect the hyper impulse cannon blast.

Jondervan went left and Emelia went right, Jondervan slightly leading, CIWS guns in both their heads chattering 20mm shells at the Duelist in a bid to distract and disorient the pilot, who just let the small caliber ammunition deflect harmlessly off whatever armor it was that he had... whatever it was it wasn't even being marked by the bullets. Jondervan suddenly jammed on his thrusters, throwing his Crusader in a sudden charge to the right, sword extended like a lance... a move that had caught more than one ZAFT pilot completely flat footed, not expecting such a rapid directional change from a big mobile suit like a Crusader. Ysak let him get close before spinning the Duelist into a crouch on one leg, letting the beam sword slice through the air about a meter over the Duelist's head, he then brought the Duelist rapidly back up to a standing position, landing what amounted to a spinning side kick as he rose which stopped Jondervan dead in his tracks and in fact sent him stumbling a pace back, right through a line of middle class SUVs. Still pivoting, the Duelist's right arm came up into line with Jondervan, rifle already aimed and ready. It fired twice, one paired shot blowing Jondervan's arm off at the shoulder and the other again boring straight through the cockpit area, turning Jondervan himself to bloody steam in less than a heartbeat. Jondervan's Crusader did not fall, instead standing there like some great weary giant who had fallen asleep on its feet. Emelia wasted no tears on regrets, she just charged right in, beam sword raised for a mighty downward chop at the Duelists left side, while Eric had taken aim with his cannon at the Duelist's right side from less than fifty feet away and fired, yelling at Emelia to get out of the way. Their attack was a thing of beauty... Ysak could not take flight to dodge the beam blast because Emelia was all over him... neither could he bring his shield around to take the blast without being struck down by Emelia. But Eric had forgotten about the cloak.

The Duelist spun again, pivoting so that it brought the edge of its serrated shield... which was now spinning rapidly with a banshee hum, like a giant chainsaw blade... up, into and through Emelia's left wrist, just behind her own shield, cutting the entire hand off as neatly as a butcher slices through a steak. Still turning, the Duelist's cloak floated out like a wide banner and enveloped Eric's hyper impulse shot, the cloak flashed with light so bright Eric still had spots in his eyes even through a camera lense and a polarized helmet... but it absorbed the shot again, just like it had the last one... no fluke then. Emelia's downward slash ripped past the newly narrowed profile of the Duelist, missing by a matter of feet, while the right shoulder railgun on the Duelist swung over to blow a good sized chunk out of her Crusader's left side, sending the machine staggering to the right, where it was tripped by one outstretched foot of the Duelist and sent falling headlong. The Crusader landed on it's weapon arm, snapping the limb off under its own weight and bounced... that was all it had time to do before Ysak's spin brought the rifle around again, already aimed and blew six molten metal rimmed holes through the Crusader's back and sides, the resulting heat transfer caused the machine to bloat like a day old corpse before deflating inwards like a poppped balloon as the insides mostly melted into slag. during Emelia's death Ysak had not been idle... his left shoulder gatling mount had been steadily peppering Eric with its small beam blasts... each individually not much threat but the number of shots were really starting to chip away at the armor on his limbs and head. Completing his one hundred eighty degree pivot with his shield now pointing at eric, Ysak trigged one of his shield grapples, sending a plasma tipped grapple spearing out at the shocked Crusader pilot, who had plainly never seen a weapon like that before. Eric tried to dodge the harpoon line, but it seemed to be some sort of guided projectile, looping in on him even as he shifted to the left. Instinct brought his right hand up, causing the grapple to impact on and tear through his hyper impulse cannon instead of his torso. The half charged weapon, notroiously unstable, immediately exploded in a thunderous shockwave of shrapnel and light that ripped Eric's railgun mount right off his shoulder and detonated the remaining missiles in the other shoulder launcher, throwing his Crusader into an awkward sideways spin that had him rolling through the parking lot like a kid taking a tumble down a hillside. Everything went dark for Eric.

Ysak's eyes darted about, checking his scopes and cameras... cameras did not detect any remaining enemies nearby, though his scopes showed at least fifteen more mobile suits, mixed Daggers and Crusaders, quite hotly inbound on his position, ETA sometime in the next four minutes. Sensors also indicated the imminent arrival of most of a company of heavy armored tracked vehicles and missile trucks and he could already see what looked like two squadrons of attack jets circling around overhead, mustering their nerve. Ysak frowned... it had taken him far longer than he had estimated it would to take care of the six Crusaders... the pilots, even though Naturals, had fought well, coordinating several different attacks against him that might have even claimed his life at an earlier point in his career. His success margin was slipping further into the red with every passing second. He put the Duelist into a foward lope, headed once more for the innocuous buildings that housed the two men he hated the most in the entire world. Vladimir's garrotte bumped against his chest with every step the Duelist took, constantly reminding him again and again that his purpose here was not to get into a protracted fight, like he almost had been with those Crusaders... he had to watch himself, less he allow his anger to get the better of him and force him to start attacking everyone that got in his way, which would slow him down far too much. He was only a mile and a half away now... Ysak ignited his thrusters, tossing the Duelist into a five hundred meter jump forward, allowing him a bird's eye view of the target compound... good thing too, because otherwise he would have missed seeing a huge section of parade ground levering down and sliding to the side, revealing the gaping mouth of a large mobile suit hanger. His foes were coming out to meet him. That was both a good and bad thing. Good because it meant he would get to kill Cray that much faster... bad because then he'd have to kill Frost and Ashino too, before he could get to Asmodeus, who would doubtlessly cower in the bunker.

Eric slowly swam his way back to full consciousness... his head hurt abomidably and his helmet was missing. His cockpit was pitch dark, his instrument panels in emergency damage shutdown. He could feel wetness on the side of his head and along his jaw... plainly he'd taken a few hard knocks in his fall. He was hanging at an odd angle from his seat restraints, which meant that the Crusader was lying on its face or side... he didn't remember which... he remembered the hyper impulse cannon going off like a bomb right next to his face, but the time between that point and whenever now was was just a blurry haze of alarm sirens and incomprehensible camera images of sky and earth. He fumbled around in the pitch dark cockpit until his hands found the emergency power override switch, which restarted as many of his instruments as still functioned, even though they were shutdown because of battle damage. He saw the flicker as his main camera's came on, but the cockpit still remained mostly dark except for switch telltale lights and winking alarm lights... the Crusader was lying face down then. He cutout the alarms and slowly pushed the Crusader to a kneeling position, using his hands to awkwardly wipe several hundred pounds of mud and dirt off his Crusader's torso and head, clearing his camera eyes to some extent so he could actually see. Now that his cockpit was lit again he took a moment to check his status... what he saw made him wince and say a pray of forgiveness to any god that may have been listening... by most rights he should have been dead. Battery power was down to thirty percent and slowly lowering... he had an electrical short in the battery that was draining his power and several of the depowered cells had cracked, leaking caustic fluid into several other interior systems... which would explain why his air conditioning and cockpit lighting no longer functioned. His left shoulder was pretty much gone, though the arm still worked well enough and his right shoulder was likewise pitted and scarred, with a jagged hole where the railgun had used to be. His armor reading showed more than sixty percent denudation along his right side due to the cannon explosion and one ankle was locked in place. He was leaking lubricating oil at the rate of two gallons per minute and his entire ECm package had smashed itself to pieces in the fall. CIWS were offline due to multiple jammed bullets in the ammo feeders, the cockpit hatch was wedged shut and he could smell smoke from several small electrical fires in his long range sensor package. He still had cameras, still had most of his motor control, at least for the next few minutes until the lube oil ran out, still had power for the next few minutes as well... most importantly he was still alive and mostly unharmed, except for a laid open cheek and scalp. All of his weapons were offline or destroyed, except for his beam saber, which was still tightly clenched in his left hand. He transferred it back to his right hand as he brought the Crusader to its feet.

The enemy was almost a mile away, closer to the administrative compound than to him. The Duelist was just coming down from a jet assisted leap, cloak fluttering out behind it like angel wings or the tabard of some fantasy knight. It was one of the most stately sights Eric had seen in his adult life... he shook his head and frowned... he must have at least a minor concussion... he couldn't let himself get distracted by aesthetics. He scanned his cameras around, noting again with a pain filled grimace the wreckage of his five squadronmates. A tiny fearful voice was ringing in his head like an alarm bell... "five of them, six counting you and you haven't even touched him yet; you're doomed, Eric, doomed"... Eric shook his head again, he couldn't let his fears get to him either... he had to keep trying. That was what soldiers did, they didn't give up until either they won or they dropped. His eyes alighted upon Emelia's severed hand, still clutching its shield. He trudged over and prised the shield she would never use again from her mobile suit's severed limb and hefted it in his left hand. Now he felt almost well armed again. "Where the FUCK do you think ye're going?" Eric muttured. "C'mon back here you bastard... I ain't done wit you yet. T's not over till the last man's standing." He started his Crusader forward in a sort of half charge, half stumble. He was still most of a mile away from the Duelist when three new mobile suits entered the fray... not from the direction of the rest of the base, like Eric would have expected, but rocketing directly upwards from within the administrative compound on huge pillars of thruster fire. Each machine was different and none were any sort of Earth Forces model he'd ever seen or heard about, though they registered as friendly on his IFF. The three new arrivals landed almost as one, surrounding the Duelist in a triangular pattern, with the giant suit behind and to the left, the normal sized one behind and to the right and the short mobile suit to the front.

Now was the time, Ysak knew. Now was the time to fight with all he had... because if he didn't he was going to die. He did not allow himself to deceive himself... these would be the three toughest opponents he had ever faced. He'd been fought to a standstill by just one of them, the one with the black skull head, back in the desert. But that had been a near lifetime ago... the Ysak of now was not the Ysak of then. He considered his comm board and then forced his hand away. He was an assassin... assassins did not speak to their targets. What would he really have to say anyway... what could Cray have to say to him that he would want to hear? Nothing. Nothing at all. Ysak fingered Vladimir's garrotte again, finger tracing the slight indentations of the scratched in initials. A... F. _Time to meet your master, Cray._ Ysak swung his targeting icons around... he knew that Cray was not the pilot of the short green and red mobile suit... that was Frost. But he wasn't sure which of the other two was Cray... either the one with the black skull or the giant with all the weapons. Ysak reconsidered, calling to mind the number of weapons Cray had carried with him while hunting them down in the jungles outside the Blue Cosmos facility. It was obvious from that which machine Cray piloted. Ysak pivoted the Duelist to face the giant mobile suit, which towered to more than twice his height and was easily five or six times as massive. A flash of pride overwhelmed his higher mind and he keyed his comm board for the open channel. "This is Ysak Jule, in the Duelist. Do you know why I am here?"

"This is Craydon Louis Thresher, in the Merciless." Cray replied with a nasty giggle. "You're here because you want to die... just like your pathetic little girlfriend did."

"Let's just get this over with." Frost cut into the channel. Ysak couldn't help but flinch a little at the sound of that voice... he did not have nearly as many traumatic experiences at the hands of that particular psycho as some of his friends, but he couldn't deny that he was afraid of Frost. But Ysak was not one to let his fear rule him... he was afraid of a lot of things, he forced himself to admit. Many of which he was master of. "I have other things to do."

"You should not have come here, Ysak." Ashino said sourly.

"Yeah... you interrupted Ashino's date." Cray said, giggling again, slowly trailing off into an angry hiss. "Always you guys get between us and the girls we love."

"WHAT?" Ysak cried, shocked so mad he couldn't even swear. "I should think that would be what I should say, given all the things you've done to me and mine! I know you... you don't even have the concept of love in your twisted heart."

"I would not be so quick to judge, Ysak Jule." Frost retorted, shifting forward a pace. "Seeing Ashino with that girl... it's revealed something to Cray and I. Say what you will about us... we do love people. I would say my love for Pink is quite the equal of the bastard Yamato's... if not stronger."

"That's the most obscene lie I have ever heard." Ysak replied, aghast. "Kira's is not one of my better friends and neither is Lacus... but the love they have is one of the most constant, strong things I have ever seen. To even begin to equate your sick lusts with that sort of commitment is to demean the very word "love"."

"That would depend how you defined love." Frost stepped forward another pace, twitching the Fury's fingers in time to his own. "If you defined it as tenderness and gentle care and softly spoken words and all that romantic bullshit, then yes, you're right, I would be lying. However, if you define love as commitment to the person, the willingness to sacrifice yourself just to be with that person, loyalty of body and mind and purpose, physical desire and mutual attraction... then I speak truly when I say that no other living being loves Lacus Clyne as much as I do."

"That... what... no... eh... fuck... huh?" Ysak stammered, thrown totally off guard.

"You don't understand... thats okay. I'll enlighten you. Too bad you won't be able to spread the word... I would dearly love to see Yamato's expression if you ever got to reveal this to him." Frost said calmly. "Think of this and reply truthfully. Can you think of any person who relentlessly pursues Pink like I do? Who targets her to the exclusion of all others, like I do, even at the cost of damage to myself? Is that not commitment? Do you doubt me when I say that I would gladly be shot a hundred times if I could only be with her for a minute... that I would cheerfully be beheaded, as long as I had gotten to be with her for just a few seconds? We are both dedicated, mind and body and soul, to the bringing of peace to this world and its surrounds... our methods are wildly different, but our goals are the same. I don't think you need a lesson in physical desire... you are as aware of her beauty as any other man is, the soft skin, the pink hair, the cornflower blue eyes, those innocent smiles, the shapely limbs and body... no, there is no denying her beauty."

"No... no... even if you can twist your words to justify yourself, I'll never believe you love Lacus. And I'll certainly never be convinced there is any degree of mutual attraction between you two." Ysak refuted, grimacing under Frost's relentless barrage of almost truths... at least, Ysak hoped thats what they were.

"Oh really? Is it not true that opposites attract? Is it so hard to believe that two people, totally different from each other... one the personification of mercy and gentleness and forgiveness... the other the personification of hate and fear and death... could actually be attracted to each other? If you asked her, I'm sure she would deny it vehemently... but you and I know better. There is always an attraction to that which is beyond your comprehension... curiousity killed the cat and all that. If she really, truly hated me as much as you think she does... why does she want to give me the one thing I truly desire? Is not the giving of desired gifts something done between people who like each other... or at least do not hate one another?"

"The one thing you truly desire?" Ysak snarled, incredulous.

"Of course." Frost took another step forward, putting his hands on his sword hilts. "She wants me dead. Lacus Clyne... the person who never kills, the queen of forgiveness and gentle mercy, a living saint by all accounts, who wouldn't hurt a fly if it bit her... she wants me dead. She'd do it herself, if I gave her the chance. Tell me I'm wrong, Ysak Jule. Tell me I'm lying. If you can. Tell me that isn't mutual attraction. I want her dead... I want to kill her painfully and gloriously... preferably after I take her as a man takes a woman. She wants me dead... she would kill me personally and I don't think she'd complain if it was messy and painful either, do you? I cannot think of a higher compliment and greater gift ever to be given by anyone than to be the one person that Lacus Clyne killed of her own free will. Do you see where I'm coming from, Ysak Jule? Can you see my love for Pink? Can you still doubt me, truthfully?"

"..." Ysak couldn't make a reply. That in itself scared him. It would have been easy to deny Frost, to say he was lying, to call him insane and a psychopath. But it wouldn't have been completely true... well, not from the perspective Frost had just revealed. As Frost had laid it out, it did make some sense of a sort. More sense than Ysak would have thought the bastard capable of. Frost truly did love Lacus Clyne... if in a way that ninety nine point nine repeating percent of the world would instead define as maniacal hatred. Ysak wasn't sure if this insight was a good thing or a bad thing... on one side it was always helpful to know how your enemy thought... on the other, now Ysak was so off balance that it was starting to affect his concentration. If there could have been a last thing he ever expected, Frost confessing to love Lacus Clyne, even compiling a somewhat rational arguement to defend the proclamation, would have been very close to that thing.

"Yeah!" Cray cut back into the channel, though he had very little idea just what the fuck Frost had been talking about... but he couldn't let anyone know that. "I mean hell, I love your girlfriends too, Ysak. I woulda fucked them first if I could have, but circumstances denied me. Though I will say, that Chanel girl had a really smoking hot body man... you lucky bastard."

"That was the wrong thing to say, Cray." Ashino muttered to himself as Ysak's incoherent scream of rage drowned out the comm channel. He'd been glad of Frost's uncharacteristic talkativeness... that much more time for Jean to slip away from Asmodeus and make good an escape. How exactly he would find her again, he did not know, but he was confident he'd figure something out. Ysak's eyes were closed... because he was watching his very own blue seed slowly fall through the infinite expanse of his own mind, to strike an unseen floor and break into a billion glimmering sparkles of light. His eyes snapped open like missile port shutters revealing their contents and he could hear his gloves creaking as he death gripped his controls. He could feel a bestial snarl on his face and could hear his heart beating slow and steady in his chest, completely at odds with his outward appearance.

"This ends now." Ysak promised, jamming his thrust pedals to the floor and taking aim at Cray... not that it would be easy to miss the giant machine. Frost reacted in an eyeblink, tearing out his swords and igniting them in one motion before charging forward like a blood maddened bull. Ashino brought up his 120mm gatling cannon and carfully sighted in on the just beginning to charge Ysak. Cray spooled up his shoulder gatling cannons and brought his anti-armor shotgun and hyper impulse cannons to bear on the pathetic little mobile suit now flying at him. Eric continued his slow march towards the battle, awed at the sight of the single Duelist standing firm against the three seemingly towering Earth Forces machines. He hadn't understood any of the conversation he'd overheard on the public channel... but several of the voices... especially that low, breathy and eternally cold and calm one... really set him on edge. He did not want to meet the guy that talked like that, no sir. There was a moment more of peace... and then the firestorm blossomed into existence.

At just about that time, thirty miles off the coast from Panama Base, the frigate AFNS Humphrey, stationed out there as a second early warning line to complement the long range radar flights and sonar buoys, picked up an incoming flight of unknown contacts bearing down on its position at high speed. In the two minutes and fifteen seconds it took for the Humphrey's battle computers to positively identify the incoming contacts and fully activate the frigate's weapon systems, it was already too late. One of Athrun's flyer packs swooped low over the deck, wingblades blazing, cleanly removing the frigate's sole 75mm rapid fire cannon turret. The second flyer pack dived low and twisted, dragging its port wing through the water just behind the frigate, neatly bisecting the rudder and rendering the craft's course almost uncontrollable. The Humphrey responded by loosing flights of anti-air missiles, but none of the missiles made it more than halfway to their targets before being blasted out of the air by Kira's CIWS guns. More precision CIWS fire from Kira disabled the missile launchers without killing the crew nearby and then the ship was defenseless except for a few anti-personnel weapon mounts. The captain and crew could do nothing but futiley try and send off distress and warning signals through the Grand Buster's comprehensive comm blackout as they watched the flight of four mobile suits jet by overhead. One was blue, black, red and white with gold trim, one was green and tan with orange trim, and two were reddish in color and holding hands for some reason... an incogrous image in more than one sailor's eyes. The two flyer packs circled around and re-attached themselves to the Righteous, boosting it and the Rubicon's speed back up to normal levels. Athrun and Cagalli had been running the Rubicon off spare power from the Righteous the entire flight in order to extend Cagalli's combat time with her batteries. It had slowed them down a little, but a single extra mobile suit might make all the difference, so no one had said anything.

"Anything yet?" Athrun asked Miriallia. She looked at her screens again, though her eyes were practically glued to them anyway.

"No... wait, yes. I'm picking up lots of activity. LOTS of activity, I mean like more than fifty mobile suits in the air and more joining them all the time. And they're all headed towards one place. Right here." Miriallia placed a glowing dot on a map screen and downloaded it to all the other machines. "The Archangel's maps show that they're all headed for the CWM administrative offices and the secret portions of the base built underneath them."

"Not really surprising that Ysak would head there... thats where he's most likely to find Cray and Asmodeus." Dearka commented to her. _God damn it Ysak... you coud have asked for my help... not like I would have stopped you. ...Okay, so maybe I would have, but still! We're supposed to be friends!_

"What of Ysak? Any sign of the Duelist?" Kira asked. Miriallia hunted through the thermal and radar contacts.

"I don't know. There looks to be a major battle ongoing near the target location... theres too much thermal energy and debris for me to get a good contact. Though if I had to guess, I'd say Ysak's probably somewhere in the middle of that scrap."

"Good guess." Cagalli said dryly. "I don't suppose we're lucky and he's actually got his communication system on, are we?"

"No, I'm afraid not. If he does have it on, he's either being jammed or just plain ignoring my calls." Miriallia replied.

"With Ysak thats not all that unlikely. Especially given his current emotional state." Dearka chipped in. _Damn it, Ysak... if you've gone and gotten yourself killed I'll never forgive you. Especially for something stupid like revenge. I thought you were better than that._ "I'm am so going to punch his lights out when we get back to the Archangel."

"Funny how often you guys say that... and then you just end up crying and hugging him when you really get back." Miriallia observed. Dearka opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off. "You may talk tough, Dearka dear, but I know you're really worried. It's okay... we all are. Ysak may be a mean spirited, grouchy son of a bitch most of the time. But he's OUR mean spirited, grouchy son of a bitch. And now our problem child has gone and shoved his head into the lion's den and started taunting the occupants and its up to us to save him. Discomfiting, unpleasant and frightening as it may be, that's what friends are for. And we're all his friends, even if he won't always admit it."

"I'm still going to punch his lights out. Seriously." Dearka said sternly.

"No, you won't." Miriallia countered. "And here's why..." she cut him off again. "For one, Ysak might not be in very good shape... he might need immediate medical attention. If you hit an unconscious and bleeding man, even Ysak, I can promise you, you'll be sleeping alone here in this cockpit until you turn thirty. For two, Katie is going to be there and if she sees you lay a single harmful finger on Ysak, she'll probably castrate you with her bare hands. For three, Vladimir will be there... if HE see's you lay a single harmful finger on Ysak, he'll do something so horrible to you I can't even imagine. For four... "

"I GET IT! I WON'T HIT HIM, GEEZ!" Dearka cried. "You really know how to take the fun out of everything..."

"Oh yeah, thats me, the spoilsport. I never let you do anything." Miriallia said with a sniff. "Leastwise if it doesn't have to do with your hands and MY body, that is."

"Woah, woah, the comm system is off right?" Dearka flailed. "That better have stayed within this cockpit. Little case of battle hormones, eh? Damn that came out of nowhere." He paused. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Kinda surprised me too. Battle hormones, definitely." Miriallia replied, refering to the name she and her friends had given to the way the heightened tension before major battles always seemed to turn them on sexually. None of them were sure why it happened... you weren't likely to find a group of pilots who hated fighting more than them, there was no reason they should get turned on at the thought of going into battle... but it happened. Maybe it was the fact that their lives were in immediate danger, activating some sort of biological instinct to mate first, to ensure life continued on or something weird and atavistic like that. Miriallia didn't know and there were no people on the Archangel any of them felt comfortable asking, not even Murrue. Certainly not Waltfeld or Kisaka and definitely not any of their parents back in Antartica. But asking or knowning or not, they all felt it, even Kira and sometimes Lacus.

"Well... try hang onto those for the flight back, once I can safely put us on autopilot, okay?" Dearka told her. She looked at him incredulously.

"There's no room in here for that!" she protested. Dearka looked at her with a devilish twinkle in his eye.

"There's always room for that." he refuted. "Trust me... you're not the only one who's feeling it... the thought of just the five of us going up against Panama all by ourselves... yeah, just a tad bit nerve wracking there. Not to mention the possible enemies." he continued, careful to omit any specific names to avoid ruining the mood. "What's the point of having a tandem cockpit if you can't use it to your advantage every once and a while?"

"Battle first... sex later." Athrun's voice was almost unrecognizable with choked back laughter as it crackled over the comm system.

"I thought you said the comm system was off!?" Dearka said to Miriallia, his eyes bugging... he'd just said way more than was polite across an open channel... where all his friends could hear.

"I never said that... you just asked me if it was and assumed that it was. Damn it, Dearka, now look what you've gone and done!" Miriallia accused him, more than a little embarassed herself... she'd thought she toggled the switch to off, but apparently she hadn't.

"What I'VE GONE AND DONE!? YOU..." Athrun didn't hear the rest of that little spat as he turned his own comm system to the secondary band, where Kira and Cagalli had gone the moment they had heard Miriallia's first verbal slip. "It's safe now." he told them.

"That's good. How did it turn out?" Cagalli asked. Athrun clicked to the private channel between the Righteous and the Rubicon.

"I wish we had a tandem cockpit." He told her.

"Wow... I hope we don't have a sudden storm on the way back." Cagalli replied. "Wouldn't that be an embarassing mess to sort out... high speed turbulence plus no room to maneuver plus Dearka's dirty mind equals... wow."

_Why do I feel suddenly exlcuded from several interesting conversations?_ Kira thought with slight disgruntlement as he listened to the hissing static of yet another empty comm line. Why his friends always switched to private comm channels whenever something juicy came up was beyond him. Sure, he'd had a few bad reactions back in Switzerland... but a lot had changed since then. He was a lot more mature now. More experienced for sure... it wasn't like it was some big secret what he and Lacus were up to in their cabin most nights. Sure, he'd been embarassed about it at first... I mean, it hadn't been his first time, but it had been for Lacus and it might as well have been for him, given his awkward nature. But now... now, hell, everyone did it at some point in their life... else there wouldn't be any babies. _I can stand a little dirty talk from my friends. Hell, I probably know more about it than Dearka and Miriallia do. ... ...Okay, so more than Miriallia does, anyway. Of course, it is hard to judge... Lacus and I don't really do much of that other stuff I used to hear about from my friends... and I'm not about to ask Dearka for suggestions or explanations. Hmm... theres an idea... maybe I can ask Cagalli to ask Lacus, they're good friends they'd... no... no way. I will not have Lacus talking with Cagalli about my sex life... thats a disaster waiting to happen. For that matter I don't even know what Cagalli and Athrun... GOD DAMN IT KIRA, STOP THIS LINE OF THOUGHT! Just concentrate on the here and now... save Ysak, get out of Panama with everyone alive and intact, fly home and THEN worry about havng a nice long bout of sex with La... DAMN IT!_ Kira's half daydream was interrupted by the blaring of lock on alarms... they were at the battle zone.

Down on the ground, things were not going Ysak's way. Not even slightly. If he'd been fighting just Cray, it would have been hard enough... for all his insanity and misplaced bravado, Ysak cold not deny that Cray knew his fucking way around a mobile suit... especially one custom built for his combat strategy. The closer he got to the Merciless the more firepower it brought to bear on him, until he was either inevitably forced to retreat or physically knocked backwards and to the ground by some massive impact or other. His photon cloak was already tattered and rent in several places due to the anti-armor shotgun and four 120mm gatling cannons. Ysak snorted a curse... four 120mm gatling cannon... that was just crazy... no machine save space warships should carry armaments like that. It was just stupid... but undeniably effective. Then of course there were the six beam cannons, the dual hyper impulse gun, the anti armor shotgun and the plethora of missile tubes and CIWS guns... Ysak couldn't, for perhaps the first time in his life, actually get close enough to attack an opponent with his sword. His rifle he'd lost early on, near the end of the first barrage, when it had blasted twice, both times ineffectively at the massively armored Merciless, before at least six 120mm shells had struck it and blown it from his hand in shards. Now he was forced to use his railgun and 25mm beam gatling to snipe at the Merciless to depressingly little effect as he circled, always looking for a slight hole to dart in and finish the fight... all he needed was to get within sword range and he knew he could end the fight just like that. It was the getting to sword range that was the problem.

No.. the real problem was staying away from Ashino and Frost, actually. Ashino stayed at medium range, always at some odd angle that Ysak would never quite expect him to be, blasting away in short, controlled bursts with his single 120mm gatling cannon and shoulder beam cannons... not always even aiming at Ysak, but just firing to narrow down his movement options and push him into Cray's fire. It ws almost like the BCPU was trying to prolong the battle. Frost certainly wasn't trying to prolong anything... Ysak could not stay still for more than a second or so at a time, or the Fury would be all over hm. Ysak had made the mistake of letting the Fury get within sword range just once, about thirty seconds after he lost his rifle. He'd almost died, then. Ashino was fast and smart and used tactics well. Cray was fast and had overwhelming firepower and an aim that really wasn't as terrible as you might think. But Frost...he defined speed and agression... Ysak had shot at him several times but had now given it up as a wasted effort, even in SEED mode he was starting to get the feeling he might be a little out of his league when facing off with the little psycho. The Duelist sported twin smoking beam sword scars, one on the right torso below the shoulder stretching down to the left hip and the other just below the left shoulder, stretching down to the right hip, crossing the other in an "X" pattern. Another foot closer and those beam blades would have been in his cockpit and he'd have found out how Nichole felt, rather than just sweating at the close call. His mind was racing... desperately trying to think of some strategy that would save his ass and get him the victory... but nothing was presenting itself. Unlike the last batch of these bastards, whom he'd fought in the last war, these three actually used a little bit of teamwork... he never saw them shooting at each other anyway, not intentionally. Ashino was actively supporting his two more aggressive brethren, actually doing more to bring Ysak down just by cutting down on his options than even Frost was accomplishing with his constant head on attack.

Cray was smiling... his ammo meters still showed more than sixty percent full and he was as yet undamaged... the puny weapons the Duelist mounted couldn't penetrate his triple layer phase shift armor. Of course, there was the annoying little factoid that despite all his skill and firepower, and the more than considerable help of Ashino and Frost, Ysak was still alive, even after almost two minutes of fighting. Cray was disappointed in himself... this should have been way over already. Ashino was glad for the skill Ysak was showing... the longer the foolish Coordinator stayed alive, the longer Jean had to escape. And better yet, Frost nor Cray had yet noticed that Ashino wasn't trying as hard as he might have to kill Ysak... he'd certainly passed up on more than one or two sure kill shots already, but they were too busy trying to kill him themselves to notice. Frost actually found that he was getting more and more annoyed as the battle wore on. Normally he'd have enjoyed a fight such as this... indeed, only a few weeks before, back when he had no idea of his destiny, he'd have been immensely enjoying himself. But now... now, this fight, fun as it was to fight a Coordinator... it didn't serve his purposes at all. It was just a pointless... nearly pointless, since death was never pointless... but almost worthless fight. Ysak Jule meant nothing to him... sure he was someone who would have to die eventually, but so would everyone else. This fight did not bring him any closer to his goals. And so, Frost was fed up. It was time to end this. For real.

Breaking off his pounding pursuit of the Duelist for a moment, Frost deactivated his swords and activated his Celerity system. Arms pumping like the pistons in a racing motor, he snatched up and threw all of the armor-schneider combat knives strapped to the chest of the Fury... not at Ysak, but upwards, at a slight angle. They would come back into the equation later on... at least twenty seconds down the line. He detached his six wire guided geschmeidig-panzer beam deflecting pods, which though not specifically designed for operation in atmosphere could still be utilized there if you were skilled enough. And Frost was skilled enough... the trick was to keep them constantly readjusting position, so that they never stalled out. The pods spread out to near the end of their tethers, a good fifty meter range for each. He spread them out wide and then angled them just precisely so... Ysak was of course too busy trying to take advantage of Frost's apparent negligence so he could kill Cray to take notice. Ashino did notice what Frost was up to and realized the gig was up... he'd seen Frost use this manuever before in simulators... it was truly awe inspiring. Ashino backed off and found himself next to the battered and half broken Strike Crusader piloted by Jean's brother, which had finally managed to limp its way into the battle. Frost ignored the new arrival as well... this tactic took all of his enormous concentration and skill to pull off... it wasn't easy, even for him. He drew his two 57mm beam rifles, one per hand and took careful aim, deactivating the Celerity switch as he did so... no need to strain his system just yet.

Cray noticed one of the shield pods drifting past his backside cameras and quickly divined just what was about to happen.. He felt giddy... he'd only ever seen this done in the simulators... it was almost an honor to see it in real life. "The floor is yours, Maestro Frost!" Cray said with wicked glee... lets see the bastard Coordinator get out of this alive! He jumped the Merciless up and back, out of the forty or so meter radius defined by the six constantly moving shield pods.

"I have a very bad feeling about this..." Ysak muttered to himself. "Why did they disengage... they had me on the ropes..." A threat warning blared into existence on his screen... target lock! He juked the duelist down and to the side, just narrowly avoiding taking two beam rifle shots to the side of the torso. That had been close.. he hadn't even been able to get the shield up in time. Who had... Ysak saw the Fury, standing about forty meters away, guns out... uncharacteristic for Frost, Ysak thought... and blasting at him as fast as the triggers could be pulled. Ysak forced himself into more evasive maneuvers, even though he was really starting to get tired. all the beams blasted by him closely... he needed to shape up or he might actually start getting hit. And then he did get hit... a graze along the shoulder, an impact on the left ankle, three or four shots hitting the photon cloak. But he hadn't had any threat warnings... no indications that he'd been flanked... and the EA didn't have mirage colloid equipped mobile suits yet... at least as far as he knew. He scanned behind him and his jaw dropped. He hadn't been flanked... not in the common sense anyway. No... instead those pods that normally were attached to the Fury where floating around in a complex pattern, all around him. Every time a beam blast missed Ysak on its way out from Frost, one of the pods dipped or spun into the path of the shot and deflected it up and away, where a second pod would deflect it again, to the side and a third pod would change its course again, sending it right back at Ysak. Ysak couldn't believe his eyes... Frost was actually banking his own misses back at Ysak, and catching those misses and sending them back and so on and so forth. Each shot bounced at least twice before coming back at him... it was beyond his skills, even in SEED mode, to keep track of all the bouncing beams, especially since Frost kept shooting more of them into the trap to replace those that eventually grounded out on the ground or buildings or Ysak. It was all he could do to dance a desperate dance of evasion... one that grew less and less effective as more beams kept coming in.

Frost had actually named this attack, in a fit of exceptional hubris one day... the Web of the Warped. Phase one of the maneuver was now in full flow... it was time to up the ante. Still firing, still maneuvering his deflection pods, Frost fired all eight of his guided beam grapples, his hands flying back and forth from three different sets of controls in what an observer would probably think of as convulsions of some sort. He wove the grapples through the bouncing beams, sweat starting to stand out on his brow, eyes staring intently... this was when it started to get hard. If he wasn't careful he might shoot off his own grapples before they could hit the gyrating but mostly immobile target. There was nowhere for Ysak to move to... it was all the silly Coordinator could do to just dodge in place. If it hadn't been for the photon cloak, it would have been over already. The eight beam tipped grapples seemed more like organic tentacles than any technological items to Ysak's disbelieving eyes, as he watched them snake through the beam blizzard towards him. Everything was slowing down... even more so than was usual for combat situations... this wasn't going to go well for him, he knew... he'd gotten feelings like this before, always right before major accidents or other painful incidents. This promised to be a little more than painful though. He dodge the first grapple... dodged the second... the third... two beams struck him in the back, only partially negated by the threadbare holes in the photon cloak they slipped through, the impact threw him forward, out of the path of the fourth grapple, but the fith and sixth changed course... one penetrated his shield and wrapped around his left arm, the other took his right foot off at the ankle. Grapple number five started to retract towards the Fury, pulling the Duelist even farther off balance. Three more beam blasts struck him in the back, one even penetrating the armor, though no vital system was breached.

Grapple number seven flew right down the barrel of his right shoulder railgun, tearing the weapon right off cleanly. Grapple number eight did the most damage though... it struck the Duelist right where the right arm met the right shoulder and half severed the limb, leaving it hanging limp, sparking, flaming and dripping lubricants like blood. The beam saber fell from the suddenly loose grip of the fingers on that hand and clanged on the hard ground below. Ysak gritted his teeth... he could still fight just as well with a sword in his left hand, but that would mean dropping his shield, which was probably the only thing besides the tattered photon cloak keeping him alive right now. This was a bad situation... he tried to jet forward, out of the trap, only to get blasted backwards by two fresh beam bolts from the Fury which blew off his hip mounted missile tubes...quite deliberately, Ysak could not help but feel. Those could have killed him, but Frost wanted to play a little. That wasn't strictly true... Frost's gloves were starting to get slippery with sweat and his aim had wavered slightly, but it was of no matter...he was actually starting to get some of his old good humor back. This was the first time he'd used the Web of the Warped off the training range or simulators and he was really doing it under battlefield conditions... he knew he could of course, but video's of this would be everywhere across the EA soon... it would even serve his goals, by making the common soldier realize just how powerless they were to stop Frost. He continued to withdraw grapple five, pulling the Duelist forward and to the side, pulling its shield away from its body. Well, that was the plan anyway, until Ysak dipped the shield for a brief instant and used it's chainsaw edge to sever the grapple cord, which brought a snarl of disleasure to Frost's face. He forced it away... he couldn't get mad now, not at the start of the most critical phase three. Frost activated the Celerity system again... he'd need every last fraction of speed for this part of the maneuver. His veins pounded with the blood flowing through his system... he was actually sweating pink sweat, the normal fluid tainted with his blood as it overexceeded the flow capacities of some of his circulatory system.

The Fury lifted off and fired a slew of beams from its rifles as it rose...once he reached his apex he wouldn't be able to replenish the beams in the Web anymore, so he needed to fill it as much as possible. He reached his target point and dropped his rifles, hands darting out to either side to grab the sudden rain of spinning silver objects just now descending from their heavenly flight. This was the finale.. if he could pull this off... why, he'd have to figure out some way to reward himself... to be truthful, he'd never pulled off the full attack before, even though he had it planned out. He fired his grapples again, the seven remaining and sent them down into the Web again, following the throw paths of the armor-schneider knives he was throwing as fast as he could catch them. Now, it was well known that the armor-sncheider knives could not penetrate phase shift armor like the Duelist sported. By themselves, anyway. It was a lesser known fact that the knives had exceptionally high heat tolerances and could in fact take direct beam strikes without breaking. As the knives penetrated the Web perimeter, Frost lined up a bouncing beam directly along their flight path, so that the beam enveloped the knife and struck just marginally ahead of it... and while the knife absorbed most of the beam energy, enough remained to penetrate the phase shift armor, thus allowing the knife to penetrate as well. Frost only managed to envelop about one out of every three daggers... but it was enough, especially combined with the already bouncing beams and the grapples. Ysak couldn't figure it out... he saw the knives incoming, but there was no way normal knives could penetrate phase shift armor... but then they did. He heard them tearing through the vital systems located just above the cockpit, saw his camera's blank out as a knife pierced the Duelist's head from ear to ear, felt the left leg just stop working below the knee... and smelled the scent of his own shock and fear as a knife blade came right through the middle of his primary screen, still glowing red hot from the beam impact. The blade slammed to a halt with a terrible noise and a irrestistable impact that threw him hard against the back of his seat... Ysak did not see it stop, his eyes were shut as he prepared himself for death... his chest felt like it was being cooked over a fire but the pain didn't seem to be getting any worse. He cracked open an eye... the knife had stopped... with just the very tip touching him, right on the chest... the razor sharp and red hot blade had penetrated his flight suit like it was nothing... but the twin metallic handles of Vladimir's garrotte were made of stronger stuff and had prevented him from getting cut, likely to a depth of more than a inch or two. Instead, the handles were conducting the heat from the blade, which hurt, but not nearly as much as getting stabbed AND burned would have been.

"Nailed it..." Frost said triumphantly, panting in pride and released concentration... he felt like he'd just run twenty miles uphill in full gear. Within seconds his breathing had regulated and his body had returned to normal functionality. The Duelist was down, if not necessarily destroyed. Its right foot was missing, its left leg was gone below the knee, its right arm was half severed and limp, its left arm was pinned to the ground by four knives, its head was split by two knives, two knives pierced it's chest and more than a dozen beam blast holes glowed cherry red and soot black along its torso and sides, from where last minute beams had found their marks.

"YOU ARE THE MAN!" Cray celebrated. "THAT KICKED ASS!"

"That was impressive." Ashino admitted. He glanced across at the Strike Crusader he'd been safeguarding... doubtless the man inside could hardly believe his own eyes. Ashino sighed... he'd prolonged the fight as long as he could... now he could only hope Jean had managed to slip away. He slipped his gatling cannon onto its back mount and drew his ES06 wide bladed beam sword... the same model Frost used. "Now to make sure." Ashino said, moving over to stand over the defeated Duelist.

"Hey, hey hey... this is my enemy here... I get to finish him off!" Cray protested. Ashino looked at him and thought about it, then nodded. That much longer for Jean...

"He's all yours."

"Thanks." Cray lumbered forward, slinging his weapons as he did so. He put one giant foot on the Duelist's chest, just below the knife that was sticking out of the cockpit area. "I've always wanted to do this..." Cray said, careful not to put much weight on the Duelist... he didn't want to crush it yet. "Look guys... I'm King Kong!" Cray shouted, beating the Merciless's chests lightly with its closed fists as he posed with one foot on the Duelist.

"You're such a child." Ashino said, though he was smiling in amusement... it was an apt image in his mind. He was still smiling when he finally noticed the incoming enemy fire alarm twinkling on his status board. "Aww shit." Ashino swore, which was very rare for him.

Author Note: Hope you're enjoying this, coming up on the end of a story arc here in the next two or three chapters. Still got about half the stroy to go though. Yes... thats a lot, and it will be a while. But it WILL get done. Very grateful for all the in depth reviews so far, looking forward to many more (in depth is the best, but any will do), best christmas gift anyone could give me would be to see to it that I have more reviews than chapters for once. Thanks.


	69. The Death of a Hero

It was not a pleasant scene that her cameras finally revealed, now that they were close enough to actually pick out details. Miriallia adjusted the screens to gain as much resolution as possible... the Duelist was in very bad shape but it still appeared to be mostly intact. There was still a chance that Ysak was alive, though the placement of one knife was directly into the cockpit area, according to the diagrams of the Duelist in her cockpit. Still, she tried to maintain hope, for Dearka's sake if nothing else... Ysak was just about the best male friend he had, the closest to a brother Dearka had ever had. And given the very strained nature of Dearka's familial relationship, that was a very special distinction. Miriallia found herself frowning in more than a little anger... the giant mobile suit from the desert was standing with one foot pinning the Duelist to the ground while it beat its arms against its chest in a crude parody of some ancient movie she'd seen once as a child... she didn't remember the name but it featured a really big monkey, she remembered.

"Is he alive?" Dearka asked tersely from behind her as he fought to keep his hands steady on his controls, activating the Grand Buster's various weapon systems and confirming targeting locks. Miriallia thought about how she should answer. She hadn't received any real evidence that Ysak was dead... but the evidence for him still being alive was even less substantial. She was well aware that the wording of her answer could and most likely would have a direct influence on how Dearka was going to fight this battle. Kira and Cagalli were behind them, fending off the rapidly approaching Panama Base defenders, while Athrun was just behind them, prepared to either charge or hang back as Miriallia dictated. _Why do I have to be in charge?_ she lamented for not the first time. _I'm not even in the military any more... and now I'm in charge of what may turn out to be one of the bloodiest battles in recent history._ "IS... HE... ALIVE!?" Dearka asked again, his teeth gnashing on each word. She didn't have to look at him to see his trembling lips, shaking fingers, dilated eyes or rictus snarl.

_Do I tell him what I think, or what he wants to hear?_ Miriallia paused a moment more, still trying to make up her mind. She'd been sending signals to the Duelist ever since they got into communication range... but had received no answer. While with Ysak that was hardly indicitive of anything, it was still not an especially good sign. _I'm not helping any by dragging this out._ "I don't know, dear. His mobile suit is... mostly... intact. If it weren't for that knife to the cockpit area, I'd say I was sure he was alive. But there is that knife. Whether Ysak is alive or dead depends on a lot of things... where exactly the knife penetrated the cockpit at, how far it penetrated, other damage that we may not be able to see yet... I just don't know and there's no way we can tell until we get a lot closer."

"Get a lot closer... aye." Dearka snapped. "Get... off... my... FRIEND!" he shouted, loud enough to startle Miriallia, who knew what he was doing. He'd already targeted the giant mobile suit with all his weapons and on "FRIEND" he cut loose. Sixty missiles, one hyper impulse shot, twenty four hundred pounds of high explosive shotgun shells and two beams burst out of the Grand Buster, the combined recoil actually slowing the machine's flight down slightly. Athrun needed no second urging, releasing his flyer backs and swinging his shoulder railguns into the attack position while he jetted ahead of the Grand Buster, rifle blazing, to take the fight to the environs he was most comfortable with... close quarters. Cray shot a good percentage of the missiles out of the sky with his CIWS before they managed to get to him, and ignored the rest, which barely made the Merciless shake as they hit. He was forced to jump awkwardly backwards to avoid the hyper impulse shot and as such could not avoid the anti-armor shotgun shells, but again, the Merciless was so massive and its armor so thick he barely even felt it. The two beams he felt, burning their way through all three layers of his phase shift armor as they did... they must have hit a soft spot, though they lost much of their energy in the process and did not do anything like major damage.

"Was THAT the best you had?" Cray taunted with a hysterical cackle. "That was PATHETIC! You call that an ATTACK!? That's not an attack. THIS... this is an ATTACK!" Cray switched all his weapons over to interlock, so they would all be activated from one trigger. He thought for a brief moment and regretfully took the tactical nukes back out of the interlock... and then pressed the trigger. He was supposed to be in friendly territory right now, after all.

"This guy is way too heavily armed." Dearka complained. "Never thought I'd say that about a mobile suit, especially given what I pilot... but he has too many weapons." he reversed thrust and applied boost to his shoulder jets, slowing the Grand Buster down and spinning it sideways, out of the river of munitions that had poured out of the giant mobile suits far too prevalent weapon ports. Smoking brass shells the diameter of a personal pan pizza and the length of a man's entire arm clanged down in endless streams from the discharge ports of the gatling cannon on the Merciless's shoulders. The high explosive shells blossomed into flowers of angry red and orange flame and clouds of dirty black smoke whenever they struck a solid object, like the Grand Buster. Though unable to penetrate phase shift armor, each shell contained roughly twenty five pounds of high explosive inside... the sheer force of impact was enough to rattle Miriallia's teeth up in the cockpit.

"I need you to cover me for a little while, Ashino." Frost ordered. "My systems will not return to their regular functions for two more minutes."

"You sound fine." Ashino noted. "Your breathing is normal and you don't appear to be in physical distress."

"DO AS I SAY, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Frost demanded. "UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOUR LITTLE WHORE, WHEN WE GET BACK!"

"Threatening me or especially Jean is not necessary. I was just making an observation." Ashino retorted, raising his shield to let several of Athrun's beam blasts carome safely off into the ground around him. He kept an eye on the two ghuul like flyer packs that had detached themselves from the enemies back just a few moments ago... after witnessing Frost's recent demonstration of the potential destructive capacity of detached weapon systems, Ashino would not let himself be taken off guard. "So it's a mental disorder then?"

"You think you're funny, don't you? Mental disorder... I ought to kill you and her just for that smart ass comment right there." Frost's voice had changed... he actually sounded weary... which was quite a thing, for Frost. "You have no idea how much concentration and willpower executing that attack takes... I have to force my mind to do the equivalent of the original marathon run while doing that. My physical functions are fine... but my concentration and reflexes are shot right now... I can barely move the Fury."

"Not like you to admit weakness... I could kill you, if you're really that weakened." Ashino skipped the Bane to the right, just barely avoiding two streams of autocannon fire from the flyer packs as they swept by at knee height while deflecting more beam fire with his shield from the opposite direction.

"You could... but then I can garauntee you... you'll never see your girlfriend again. You kill me and they'll worse than kill you... they'll kill her. Or maybe even take her into the program. Course, no one over the age of ten has ever successfully accepted the implants... but maybe she's the lucky winner, eh?" Frost came back, his voice almost dry with what, for him, passed as humor.

"She is not my girlfriend... ghr!" Ashino had taken his attention from the Righteous for a brief moment to add vehemence to his refutal and it had almost cost him... the red mobile suit had dropped its rifle and whipped out a beam boomerrang in that instant and tossed it directly at him... the beam blade drew a sizzling black line through the armor along the Bane's weapon arm... a miss, but too close a miss. "She's just a girl I bumped into at the festival!"

"Yes... that's why you fought so poorly against Ysak, right? So you could let the girl you just bumped into have more time to flee from Asmodeus. You don't fool me, Ashino. Were you not listening to me speak about love? You're exihibiting all the signs, little Ashino. You love her... you do. Don't deny it... I can tell when you're lying, even if you can't. Save yourself some trouble and just admit it... the sooner you do that, the sooner you can get to the fun part."

"I'm a little busy protecting your mad ass, Frost. Can we save this psychoanalysis... rich coming from a head case like you... for later?" Ashino retorted, trying to focus on the fight at hand... his opponent was likely Athrun Zala and that was a fight Ashino had to take seriously. Frost chuckled.

"Of course..." he dragged the word out several syllabels. "By all means, fight them off. Just remember... Markov... it doesn't matter if you win on the battlefield if your heart is at war with your mind."

_Who am I fighting? It's not Frost... he's in the green and red one that is unaccountably hanging back._ Athrun thought as he sent a command to his flyer packs, engaging their wingsabers, pulling out and activating his double bladed beam saber as he did so... it was time to take this fight up close and personal. _This guy is cautious... he's not just spraying fire all over the place. He's got a plan of some sort, though what I still don't know. Figures. This must be Ashino._ "I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again." Athrun tightbeamed to the white mobile suit with the black head.

"Athrun Zala... I thought so. I think I remember telling you... you can always hope, but hope is usually in vain." Ashino replied with a tight smile. "Care for another one on one? Maybe this time, Cagalli will stay out of it and we can really see who is better." Ashino found himself smiling... there was no more worthy foe on the battlefield than Athrun Zala, in his opinion.

"I don't think so... we just came for Ysak. Then we'll leave you alone... contrary to my wishes as that may be." Athrun replied, firing several times with his railgun, aiming high and slightly behind Ashino, trying to force him forward. Ashino was having none of it though, he lept back and let the railgun rounds bounce off his own phase shift armor, retaliating with several short bursts from his gatling cannon. Athrun was forced to dodge the shots... though unable to penetrate his armor, the sheer force would destabilize his flight and disrupt his attack... not something he could afford right now.

"It was foolish of him to come here alone. Why did you allow him to do such a thing?" Ashino asked, throwing the Bane into a headlong dive and shoulder roll to avoid the twin flyer packs as they came corkscrewing through his old position, red beam blades fiery on their wingtips. If he hadn't moved, they probably would have cut him in half at the knees and waist. Rolling to one knee, Ashino opened fire with his six shoulder mounted beam cannons... he didn't expect to hit Athrun, he just needed to keep him clear long enough for Ashino to recover his balance.

"With Ysak its not always an allow sort of thing." Athrun replied, using his shield to take two blasts and twisting his shoulders to skate between the others. "You know how it is, I'm sure... why do your superiors let Cray and Frost do such things?"

"Because... like me, they hate Coordinators." Ashino answered, triggering a long burst from his cannon, walking the shells towards, into and past Athrun's position. "And Coordinator sympathizers." Ashino fired his leg mounted missiles... not at Athrun, but targeting the ground at Athrun's feet. Panama Base was more underground than aboveground... there were tunnels and rooms everywhere under the surface base. One such tunnel was directly underneath Athrun's current position... just one of many mass conveyance train tunnels, but it served Ashino's purposes well enough... it was wide, more than ten meters deep and most importantly, close to the surface.

"That's not what Lacus and Caga..." Athrun started to say, when the ground beneath the Righteous's feet suddenly gave way with a tearing crumble and he dropped legs first into some sort of cavity in the earth. Athrun cursed his negilgence... of course there were tunnels all over the base... using them as pit traps was an obvious strategy. He'd been forced on the defensive... the fall had done no damage, but he was buried to mid calf in rubble and now Ashino had the advantage of higher ground.

"Miss Lacus is a special case amongst us BCPU's. For one, Frost has dibs on her... that pretty much means hands off. For two, she's under my protection as well... no one has yet understood me better than her... and I cannot let a resource like that come to harm." Ashino hit his thrusters as he spoke, soaring up to give himself a good firing angle down into the train tunnel. "And though I may have saved your fiancee from being raped, if you for one instant think I will hesitate to kill her now, today... you are sadly mistaken." Ashino hit all of his triggers again, filling the hole with high explosives and heat death.

"Kira... you don't really need my help here, do you?" Cagalli asked, fretful eyes watching Athrun pursue the white and black mobile suit down on the ground below. She turned back every few seconds to see if she could make an effort at keeping the incoming Strike Daggers, Strike Crusaders and assorted jets and tanks at bay, but every time she drew a bead on something, Kira always managed to shoot it first. Without killing it. _It's pointless for me to be up here... I could be of much more use down there..._

"Athrun doesn't particularly need your help either." Kira commented. "If you want to go help Dearka and Miriallia, that would be a good idea. But really... you have to let Athrun take care of his own fight. He can do it... he's just as good as me."

_Try telling Lacus not to worry about you. See how that works._ Cagalli thought sourly. "That's why I'm worried, Kira. You and Athrun are damned good... but you're not invincible. You can accept help, you know. I'm not deluding myself... theres no way I could take down one of those three guys... but I could make it easier for Athrun to do so. And then he would be free to help Dearka and Miriallia against the big one. And it's not like you need to keep me up here to protect me, little brother. I did just fine on the Kusanagi all those months without you."

"Frost is down there. He's not engaged, why I don't know, but he's down there." Kira replied, blowing the heads off another three Strike Daggers as he spoke. He heard Cagalli's sharp intake of breath and winced... he hadn't wanted to play that card, but he really didn't want his sister down in that ruckus... those weren't Naturals down there... them he would have been fine with. But for all her fire and determination and experience... Cagalli just did not have the skills to survive long against the BCPU's. Hell, Kira wasn't sure he and Athrun had the skills to survive long against all three BCPU's together.

"I'm not scared of Frost." Cagalli said with a loud gulp.

"That's funny... cause I am." Kira replied instantly, CIWS shots neatly holing the engine cowlings of a flight of four attack fighters as they screamed past. The pilots all ejected, to begin the long float to the ground on their white parachute equipped seats. "Listen... you want to go down there, I won't stop you. You're a big girl and a national leader, you can make your own choices. I personally advise you not to go... it's much safer up here with me and you'll be able to do a lot more good, since no matter what you think, you will be dividing Athrun's attention down there. If you think the aid you can give him outweighs that disadvantage... and it very well may, since I haven't seen you fight in a mobile suit for a long while now... by all means, help Athrun out. But if it doesn't... either help Dearka or get your ass back up here to me. Understand?"

"You have no right to take such an imperious tone with me, Kira Yamato. I don't need a lecture from you on how to help Athrun. Your concern is appreciated... but I'm going, since it is undeniable that you have the enemy reinforcements well contained." Cagalli told him. _There... I won that one._

"Good luck and be safe then." Kira replied, infuriatingly calm. He paused just long enough for her to start her descent. "Little sister."

_If we weren't in the middle of an important battle... _Cagalli forced herself to focus as she descended to the ground. She'd lost track of Athrun during the heated conversation with Kira... but she spotted the white mobile suit with the black head about a hundred and fifty meters to her left, just starting a jet assisted jump into the air, all weapons oriented downwards into some sort of large hole in the ground. She may not have been a Coordinator, but she wasn't a fool either... the BCPU wouldn't be shooting into a hole unless there was a target in it, and she knew just which target that was likely to be. _Oh, no you don't. Nobody is going to hurt Athrun... not while I'm around._ Still, her reactions were just a few hairs slower than that of the enemy, and he fired first, stitching green beam blasts and dozens of high explosive shells as well as two flights of missiles down into the hole, which vomited fire and smoke like a small volcano. "ATHRUN!" Cagalli cried as her ion cannon shot ripped into the left shoulder of the Bane, blasting away two of the three beam cannons there and pushing the machine into an ungainly aerial stumble. Cagalli maintained her target lock, taking two steps forward and then firing her shoulder mounted missile packs at the just recovering Bane, which seemed quite shocked at the sudden attack from the side. The enemy used his CIWS to some effect, but was plainly still off balance because more than half the missiles got through and impacted, batting the big machine out of the air like a softball and sending it skidding painfully across the ground to bury its head and shoulders in a building, which promptly collapsed around the point of impact.

"You don't have to yell." Athrun chided her slightly as the Righteous rose on steady jets of blue flame from the hole. The shield was battered and scorched from taking five beams at once and there was a burn scar on the right hip from the sixth beam, but Athrun had weathered the well timed attack with only a few bruises caused by being bounced around by the explosions. "Thanks for the assist though. Kinda surprised that Kira let you down here, but who am I to argue with help like what you just gave me?"

"Kira's not the boss of me. Besides, its not like he needs any help and you do."

"Oh, thats good for my ego right there, thanks." Athrun smiled. "But seriously... be careful. The pilot of that machine is Ashino. He is not like the others, he fights with a plan, you'll have to be constantly alert, I won't be able to watch over you very much."

"God damn it, I can watch myself. I'm seventeen, so back off, you do your stuff and I'll take care of mine, okay? I'm sick of getting protected. I want to do some protecting too, you know!?"

"You got it... WATCH OUT!" Athrun started to say, before suddenly throwing the Righteous across the gap between them to take the two flights of missiles launched from the Bane's leg tubes on his shield. While they'd been talking the Bane had slowly been gathering itself, suddenly rolling to a sitting position and opening fire without even bothering to stand. The missiles probably wouldn't have seriously harmed the Strike Rubicon... but knowing that and just letting them hit anyway... no, not possible for Athrun.

"I'm not sure if I should be mad at you for just totally turning my argument on its head, or thanking you for the save." Cagalli said in a small voice. "He doesn't mess around, does he... that speed..."

"Don't have time to talk, sorry love." Athrun managed, as he rocketed towards the now standing Bane, flyer packs circling around to come in from the back. Ashino seemed to have had enough of ranged gambits... he dropped the gatling cannon and ripped out one of those strange, more slabbish shaped beam swords which glowed with green fire and charged Athrun back. Cagalli was just maneuvering to the left to see if she could line up some sort of shot when she noticed something that set her heart bouncing up into her throat. A too familiar green and red mobile suit had just stepped around a corner, half facing away from her, one hand out on a building wall as if to steady itself. _Frost..._

About two hundred meters away to the north and east, Dearka and Miriallia had managed, through an extreme amount of hard work on both their parts, to maneuver themselves to a position where they were standing over the downed Duelist. The Merciless stood about knee deep in the rubble of a building it had landed on about seventy meters away. They had accomplished their first goal... they had reached Ysak. The problem was, now they were pinned down and unable to move away from the downed mobile suit. If they moved to another position or tried to dodge, any shell or beam that passed them by would stand too great a chance of striking the disabled Duelist and while they did not know if Ysak was dead or alive, if the Duelist blew up, that would be a major mark in the dead column, which was not something Dearka was going to accept. The pilot of the giant enemy machine seemed to have realized their reluctance to leave their hard won position... but had yet to take advantage of it to the degree Dearka had been fearing... the Grand Buster had thick armor, but nothing like it would need to stop the blasts from the twin hyper impulse cannons, Dearka wasn't even sure if there was armor that could stop those. But the enemy hadn't deigned to use that weapon... it was just using its shoulder mounts and anti armor shotgun and missiles.

Cray was smiling... so, they were here to rescue the one known as Ysak. How nice. How utterly foolish. They thought they had been the ones forcing him away from their dead friend. But that was just him letting them see what they wanted to see. In reality, he had them right where he wanted them... all he had to do was use the hyper impulse cannon and they were done. But that wouldn't be any fun... it would be over far too quickly. Cray knew he was sacrificing tactical advantage for his own pleasures, but he'd never been able to stop himself. His smile grew wider as he opened a comm channel. "This is Cray, in the Merciless. Talking to the green and tan mobile suit who thinks they've accomplished something."

"Did you kill Ysak?" Dearka's hard edged voice replied almost at once. Cray smirked... so that was who it was. He didn't know this one well, but he did know he was one of the ones whos girl was promised to Cray.

"I certainly did my best. But no, Frost killed him. Do you see any knives on the Merciless? No... no knives here." Cray chuckled as a sudden idea blossomed in his mind. _That would be fun..._ "Of course, we don't know if he is actually dead... we were about to make sure when you showed up. But tell you what... I'm not an unreasonable man... lets make a deal, eh?"

"What sort of deal?" Dearka asked, suspicious... what was that monster planning?

"You may not believe me... but I am an honorable man, when I choose to be. This is the deal. I'll give you one attack. If, during that attack you can knock me from my feet... you can go and take your friend with you. I won't stop you... I'll go fight elsewhere. How does that sound?"

"Too good to be true." Dearka replied at once.

"Oh, you haven't heard my terms though." Cray sniggered. "If you cannot... well... well... you still get to take your friend away. But you'll be leaving Miriallia here with me. Doesn't that sound like a fun game?"

"Yeah fucking right. No deal." Dearka snarled. Miriallia held up a hand to stop him. She made sure to turn off the comm system this time. "Mir... I can't do that. Not even for Ysak. Not even for anyone."

"I'm not asking you to do it... I'm asking you to agree." Miriallia replied. "I don't think Cray will keep his word either... if nothing else it will give us one free attack on him... his arrogance is staggering but we can take advantage of that. He has us cold, Dearka. He can kill us any time he wants to... and we cannot stop him. Why he is offering us this chance is beyond me... but he is insane, remember. Of the three of them, I'm actually scared of him the least. I understand his motivations... he wants to have sex with me, and then kill me. And while that is utterly gross and abhorrent to me, thats nothing compared to Frost or the confusion I have about Ashino. If all we have to do is promise to fufill his desires in order to allow ourselves a chance, we should do it. It's not like we'd ever actually do it... you couldn't get me out of this cockpit with plastic explosives, not with him out there."

"You make sense. Still, it turns my stomach, even if we are lying." Dearka shut up when Miriallia shushed him.

"You still there, Cray? This is Miriallia Haw. We agree to your terms. We don't know why you offered them, but we agree."

"Well..." Cray was taken aback... it had been more a taunt than anything he really expected to work. But hey, if they were stupid enough to trust him, he'd get to shoot them down and have his little game too. The game was rigged in his favor anyway, with the Citadel array he could take any strike they could dish out without even feeling it. He strode out of the building, letting the masonary tumble away from him like a child walking through a sand castle. "I agree too then. I look forward to entertaining you, Miriallia."

"I doubt anything you could do would entertain me." Miriallia retorted. Just because it was her idea didn't mean she had to like it.

"I don't usually get complaints." Cray responded... course that was usually because the girl in question was comatose or catatonic afterwards, but why spoil the surprise? "I'm ready whenever you are."

"This is going to take some very precise timing." Dearka said, after Miriallia cut off comms again. "From what Waltfeld's sources in ZAFT say about this thing, it has a lightwave barrier it can project around itself... kind of like a much smaller version of the Umbrella of Artemis. It's proof against both beams and munitions... while its up it would take a strategic nuke to damage him. Of course he probably can't see in or out while its up either. He'll probably activate it just as we fire, but I'm betting it can't be activated consecutively. This is not going to be good for the machine, we'll fire the anti armor shotgun and the rest of the normal weapons when he puts up the barrier, but after those are negated, while he's taunting us and dropping his shield, we'll be loading and firing the Earthshaker. We won't have time to put down the stabilizers, which would give the game away anyway. Sound good?"

"I'll do what I can to distract him over the radio too. If we don't make this work... I love you very much, Dearka."

"We'll make it through this... and right back at ya, Mir." Dearka said with a sincere smile. He hit the transmit button. "Here you go, Cray... eat this!" and fired all of his weapons. As predicted a shimmering blue-aqua barrier of crosshatched light beams appeared around the Merciless, effortlessly deflecting all incoming attacks. "Damn, thats a nice shield." Dearka commented to himself. He dropped his anti armor shotgun and hyper impulse cannon, using one hand to sling the Earthshaker up and around into firing position while the other snatched a shell out of the ammo hopper and slammed it home into the open breech. The lightwave barrier dissipated over the course of the next two or three seconds... like he'd hoped it was not a fast reuse type thing. The Merciless held out a hand, stepping closer to the Grand Buster, unheeding of the Earthshaker cannon, which Dearka carefully kept pointed down in a nonthreatening manner, like he'd already fired it or something.

"I'll take my reward now, if you please." Cray said, the smile on his face almost glaring in his tone. "Just step into my hand, Miriallia and I'll soon show you things you never even dreamt could exist." his grin stretched... how utterly foolish of them. Almost too foolish, now that he thought about it. He forced himself to remember that this was a coordinator he was up against here... and a red elite at that. And while Cray loathed Coordinators, he had never been trained to underestimate them. Outperform them, yes, but not underestimate. His smile was starting to hurt now, it was so wide. So... they thought they could trick him... didn't they. He scanned the gargantuan caliber cannon that the enemy mobie suit was holding slackly in its arms. Thermal images came up cold as ambient. Of course... how simplistic... they hadn't fired everything they had, because they had realized that the Citadel array took some time to cycle between off and on. They were planning to use the big gun on him... it was obviously still loaded, as the gun would have been hot had they fired it recently.

"H-hold on. Just a moment." Miriallia replied, forcing what she hoped sounded like a fearful hitch into her voice. "I-I... just need... need to say... goodbye."

"You can say goodbye from over here... we have radios for that." Cray retorted, casually selecting the Grand Buster and Duelist with his tertiary targeting icons, the ones that controlled the missile launchers in the Merciless's legs. At this range there would be no time for anyone to react to the missiles... not even Frost could dodge them all from less than twenty meters away. He ws careful to disable his targeting locks... no sense in warning the enemy by locking on and from this close he hardly needed to guide the missiles.

"It's... it's not that sort of goodbye." Miriallia said in a tearful whisper. Those few acting classes and drama club during high school finally came in handy after all. Cray lost some of his smile.

"Hey now... don't go wasting yourself on the Coordinator anymore. You've got better people to be reserving yourself for. Besides... its not like theres much chance of it going anywhere with him... don't you know that like half of all 2nd generation Coordinators are neuters?" Cray told her, his voice growing cold and sharp. Dearka snarled silently... half was a major exaggeration, but there was always that chance, that he was in fact sterile. It wasn't something he liked to think about, not since he'd brought it up back in Switzerland, but it was always there, lurking in his mind. His hands trembled on his controls... it was almost time.

"With Dearka it is never a waste." Miriallia replied with mixed anger and pride. "All right... I'm coming over. You're letting Dearka and Ysak go, remember."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll let them go away. Far, far away." Cray said almost cordially. _How far is hell anyway...?_ He tightened his fingers on the tertiary triggers. Instead of the cockpit door opening up, the Grand Buster's arms came up, the gun swinging up to point directly at the Merciless's chest from just a little less than twenty meters away. Cray found himself staring into a barrel that looked wide as a cave... he resolved to salvage the weapon from the enemy after he destroyed them and have one made for the Merciless. It looked absolutely wonderful. "You must think I'm some kind of crazy idiot..." Cray whispered, hitting his triggers. One hundred sixty missiles came corckscrewing out of their launch tubes along the Merciless's legs, the combined backthrust actually causing the monstrous machine to tremble slightly. The missiles reached cruising speed within a quarter second and impacted their targets less than a half second later... still a full two tenths of a second faster than Dearka could hit the Earthshaker trigger. For Cray it looked like the green and tan mobile suit was bodily picked up by the explosive rain and hurled backwards like a man might toss a doll, while the disabled Duelist was bounced up and down like it was trapped between two trampolines, piecies of combat knife and internal components spalling off like flakes of dried blood. For Ysak, still pinned to his cockpit seat by the knife tip, it was more than just slightly uncomfortable. His screens were all off line because of battle damage and while his armor and some internal systems were still operational, along with his reactor, most everything else was done. Communications... targeting... cameras... cockpit controls... even the ejection system was off line. He had heard the battle raging over and around him... plainly some form of help had shown up and driven the BCPU's away from him... he could tell that because he was still alive. But what sort of help he had no idea... could the others have followed him? But that was crazy... only slightly less crazy than him attempting to attack the entire base all by himself. Because his screens and sensors were offline, he had no way of knowning when the missiles were coming, much less any way of bracing himself. The knife tip ground against the garrotte handles, pushing them so hard into his chest that it drew blood. He heard his top two ribs crack under the repeated bounces and his head was ringing so hard he could barely think or see.

For Dearka and Miriallia, it was not unlike getting hit by a speeding truck. One moment they were sitting upright in their cockpit seats, both praying that their desperate gamble would pay off... the next Miriallia had seen the missiles leave their tubes in blooms of fire and exhaust and before she could even open her mouth to say something to Dearka, who had just finished bringing the Earthshaker to bear and was about to pull the trigger, the eighty missiles fired at the Grand Buster seemed to impact as one. Dearka's hands flew off of his controls as he was whiplashed backwards by the missile impact and then his arms cracked painfully down onto the control surfaces when the Grand Buster came down on its back with all the grace of a dropped mountain. His helmeted head slammed back into the padded headrest hard enough to stun him and it felt like his seat straps had cut bloody weals across his chest, which had gone entirely numb. For a moment he could do nothing but stare at the sky through the camera screen, his mind blank as it struggled to recover from being shaken around so violently. He groaned and tased blood in his mouth from where he'd bitten his tongue and lip during the whiplash. His neck was already starting to hurt and he was sure it was nothing compared to the soreness he'd feel later. If there was a later. He craned himself forward. "Miriallia?"

There was no response. He forced himself to lean even more forward, so that he could see down into the copilot's seat in front of him. Miriallia had weathered the impact even less well than he had. Upon initial impact she had been slammed almost straight backward into her seat, throwing her arms out to the sides. She'd rebounded in midair before they hit the ground and had been whipcracked both sideways and down so that her own head and impacted twice, once upon the radar screens to her side and then again, harder, on her own head rest. The second blow had been inconsequential... the first had torn her helmet off her head and knocked out like a light thrown against a wall. The edge of her helmet had laid open her forehead and scalp as it was torn off and a steady trickle of blood soaked her hair and flowed down her face onto her flight suit. Dearka's eyes widened... she was breathing shallowly and with a slight hitch... she might have some form of internal injury from force compression. That was not good at all... they were hundreds of miles from the nearest friendly medical facility. And in the middle of combat. This second fact was quite undeniably demonstarted to Dearka when the Merciless hove into view, straddling the downed Grand Buster, the twin barrels of the hyper impusle cannons like twin hellish mouths pointed right at his face.

"See... now that was stupid of you." Cray admonished. He was sad that it had to be this way... he could have used a girl right about now. But he'd had enough playing around. And there was always whatshername... Ashino's girlfriend. He hit the hyper impulse triggers... just as three sniper cannon blasts from the circling Liberty impacted his back and side... blowing off one of the two right shoulder gatling cannons and wrecking the launch mechanisms for the tactical nuclear cruise missiles. The impact and subsequent detonation of the gatling cannon ammo pushed his aim up and to the side, so that the beams just melted right through the left shoulder of the Grand Buster and dug a seventy meter long and ten meter deep trench through the ground... instead of blowing the tan and green machine into slaggy scraps. Kira had no more aid to give though, as he was being hard pushed to delay the oncoming enemy reinforcements... he may have been Kira Yamato, but there were scores of mobile suits and jets incoming, along with entire companies of ground armor on the way... there was only so much he could do. Dearka needed no further pushing... he recognized a last chance when he was given one. The yellow seed dropped and burst in his mind, sending tingling bursts of energy along every nerve in his body, like they'd all been dipped in concentrated lemon juice. He clearly saw the blood welling from the four inch cut along Miriallia's scalp and he used the rage that built up inside him as a result to further fire up his reactions. He had to do this right the first time, because Cray was already recovering, three remaining gatling cannon aiming up at Kira, firing as they were brought to bear along with the anti armor shotgun, while the hyper impulse cannons were already recharging as they swung back to cover the Grand Buster.

The Earthshaker had bounced free of the Grand Buster's grip during the fall, but had landed almost right next to it, it being too massive to fly far. Dearka snatched at it and swung it up and around, simultaneously kicking downward with both legs, using the Merciless's enormous feet as a wall to push off from, sending the Grand Buster screeching along the ground like a massive plow, scooting nearly ten meters on its back before friction caught up to it and stopped them. It was hardly an optimal firing position, but it was the best and last chance he'd ever have for ending this fight. Dearka centered the Earthshaker on the Merciless's upper chest and head, holding the massive weapon as steady as a man might hold a short stick, even without the aid of the stabilizers and computer programs. "..." he opened his mouth but no inspiring words came out. What was there to say, anyway? He hit the trigger. It felt like getting hit with the missiles again. But twice as bad. Without the aid of the stabilzers and any sort of recoil space, there was nowhere for the gargantuan backwards force of the Earthshaker recoil to bleed off in. The artillery cannon hammered backwards like a great piston and crushed the Grand Buster's upper right arm and shoulder as flat as a pancake, amputating the limb, before pounding out a crater five meters deep and ten across in the hard packed earth, leaving the cannon pointing upwards at an angle like a leaning obelisk for a few seconds before gravity reasserted its hold and brought it crashing to the ground with a sound like a building toppling. The force of the impact from the Earthshaker recoiling into the ground rolled the Grand Buster almost fifty feet sideways, ending up on its face, covered with nearly a foot of dirt and dust. Shaken around like a pebble in a can, Dearka never got to see the result of his shot.

Kira had a birds eye view of the whole scene though, involved as he was in evading the Merciless's fire and the incoming fire from the regular military. His surprise attack had bought Dearka and Miriallia perhaps two seconds of time... less than he wanted but all that he could do. By his rough estimate he'd already disabled more than thirty mobile suits and twice that many armored vehicles and jets... but that was about a fourth of the forces he was currently facing, and more were scrambling all the time. The truth of the Earth Forces advantage of numerical superiorty was really being driven home... here they had just lost so many troops at Carpentaria and there were still so many left to engage him. He'd been watching Dearka and Miriallia ever since he'd blasted Cray and he saw what unfolded as clearly as anyone did that day. The Grand Buster drove both of its feet downwards into the Merciless's ankles, causing the giant war machine to totter back off balance while the Grand Buster slid away on its back, pushing up a huge mound of dirt and debris as it plowed across the soft ground and asphalt roads. In mid slide, the Grand Buster had snatched up its artillery cannon and had brought it to bear on the Merciless, which was just adjusting its weapons to aim at the Grand Buster's new location. This time Dearka got the drop on Cray and fired first.

And what fire it was. The muzzle flash from the Earthshaker lit up the day like a new sun, a flare of light so bright it was visible from all corners of the base and even perceptible to the naval picket ships thirty miles out to sea. The report of the weapon going off made it live up to it's name, blowing out every window in a one kilometer radius, blowing leaves off of trees for a similar distance and raising a cloud of dust and grit from the ground in a circle nearly one hundred meters across. Coming almost simultaneously with the report and muzzle flash came the far greater explosion of the Earthshaker shell as it struck its target. Now, the Merciless was protected by not just one layer of phase shift armor, but three different layers, laid in a crosshatching pattern for reinforced strength. Phase shift armor in general made explosive based weapons almost entirely useless... three layers made the Merciless the closest thing to immune that had ever been seen. But the designers of Phase Shift had never factored in a direct hit from a two hundred centimeter artillery cannon... such a weapon would only be found on massive capital ships anyway and would never be fired at a mobile suit in all probability. The explosion from the Earthshaker shell completely vaporized the top layer of PS armor across ninety percent of the Merciless's body area. Pieces of shell casing were heated to near plasmatic temperatures and while no larger than a human fingernail, they penetrated the Merciless like a hail of stars. The force of the shell impact lifted the three hundred ton war machine nearly ten meters into the air and threw it more than forty meters through the air before it touched down again, flipping completely over to land on its face. A tide of fire and white hot shrapnel followed the expanding blast wave, ripping the ground into a holocaust of fire and smoke and impact craters in a ten meter radius around the point of impact, while the blast wave smashed into several buildings and caused them to partially collapse.

Ysak, in the Duelist, had just finished recovering from the missile impacts when a sound like the entire world beign smashed into pieces came from seemingly right above him. It was the loudest thing he had ever expereinced... so loud he could only feel it, not hear it. His helmet faceplate cracked in several places, while his control screens blew out in flurries of glass particles... he was unable to contain a shriek of panic and brought his hands up to cover his face... he knew well what could happen to someone when the screens blew up. But Erica Simmons had planned for that and the covers on the screens of her mobile suits were made from glass that did not shatter but instead broke down into a bead like form when exposed to extreme force. The rain of glass particles bounced off his hands and shoulders like snowflakes before tinkling down into the various crevices in the cockpit area. It wasn't until he looked at his hands and realized he could see them that Ysak realized that the force of the explosion had ripped the knife right out of the wound it had torn into his cockpit, leaving an enormous gash that light was spilling in from. Slowly, cautiously, feeling his way like a feeble old man, Ysak brought the nearly disabled Duelist back to its feet, peeking out from his cracked faceplate through the gash in the cockpit wall, since all of his instruments were dead. He couldn't see much of anything besides a dust cloud that was billowing all around him like he was back in the pestilential desert sandstorms.

Cray was down and out. The Merciless was still intact... in body anyway. All the exterior weapon and sensor mounts had been scoured off by the fiery blast wave or riddled by the shrapnel that had followed. He basically had no armor left on the front half of the Merciless and had lost a good portion of the back armor as well. The internal systems of the Merciless looked like the pieces to a jigsaw puzzle that had been re-arranged by a blind man... almost everything was in a slightly different position than it was supposed to be in, which had caused massive system failures and the emergency shutdown of both power reactors. The pilot noticed none of this, being blasted nearly comatose by the force of impact, he was still twitching slightly, fingers pulling the triggers of the controls he'd ripped off of the control panel when he was hit, unable to relinquish his grip fast enough. Dearka was also stunned almost into unconsciousness... but the glowing seed sparkles in his mind pulled at him, reminding him that he had still a greater purpose to fufill. He'd done the easy part... now he still had to rescue Ysak. And there was Miriallia to think of... he needed to get her to a doctor ASAP. He groaned and gritted his teeth and slowly brought the Grand Buster into a sitting position, trying to sort through the dust cloud. Had he done it? And at what cost... the Grand Buster was missing an arm and he was intentionally avoiding looking at the damage report screens... he didn't need that sort of shit right now. A shape started to materialize out of the dust cloud... a mobile suit. _There's no way that can be Cray. No one could have gotten back up from a direct hit like that so fast. No one..._ Dearka told himself... but he still found himself bracketing the shape with his remaining weapons... he could not afford complacency now, when he was so close to victory.

Cagalli could not take her eyes off of the green and red mobile suit that had just entered the battle between her, Athrun and Ashino. Despite her strong and proud words to Kira earlier, she found herself frozen, trembling with anxiety as she faced the new foe, who neither Athrun nor Ashino seemed to have yet noticed. Perhaps for good reason, as both were well engaged in a stamping, circling dance of flashing beam swords as they fought and pushed for the slight edge that meant everything in such close range fights. Athrun's wing flyers were orbiting around the two mobile suits, wingsabers glowing as they waited for an opening to dart in on. But after nerly three seconds, seconds in which Frost did nothing but stand there and watch the battle between Ashino and Athrun, Cagalli found her courage reasserting itself. Maybe he hadn't noticed her yet... maybe there was something wrong with him. She considered that and smiled slightly... well, something wrong with him besides the usual stuff, anyway. In any case, she couldn't very well shoot at Ashino now that Athrun was in a sword fight with him. She oriented on the Fury and started firing, even before she got a target lock. Knowing this opponent, a target lock was almost useless anyway. Well... most of the time anyway. Right now Frost seemed to be having real trouble evading her fire. She wasn't hitting him, but she was getting very close, blowing holes in the building where he'd rested his hand, sending the Fury reeling backwards, feet moving furiously to retain its balance. Cagalli brought up her other arm and opened up with the twin beam gatlings as well, sending scores of twisting green energy darts at the Fury, burning craters into the streets and buildings all around it. She fired her shoulder missile launchers as well and was shocked to the bone when five of them actually hit the Fury, sending it staggering back and to the side like a drunken brawler.

Frost gnashed his teeth in frustration as he did what his overwrought nervous system would allow him to do to mitigate the damage from the incoming fire. He supposed it was almost funny... here he was, easily the most deadly person alive on the planet, and he was getting his ass handed to him by a girl who was less than a babe compared to him in almost any way. If it wasn't for his damned pride in using the Web, he'd have already put an end to her and her damned boyfriend as well, who was doing a bang up job of keeping Ashino busy. Frost contemplated calling for Ashino's aid, but the mere thought left an ashy taste in his mouth that he found quite disgusting, plus he doubted the BCPU 4 would be able to break away for a while yet... Zala was all over him right now. He could feel himself getting faster and more in control with each passing second... but it was still at least a minute or two before he would be back to anything approaching normal. He activated the beam deflecting pods while they were still attached to the Fury's chest and back, creating a torso shield that deflected the greater majority of the incoming beam and ion blasts. he tried to fire back, but his hands kept twitching and jerking, sending his return fire pitifully wide and short.

Cagalli didn't know what was up with Frost, but she was determined to make up now for all the terror and pain he'd caused her and her friends over the course of the last eight months or so. The memory of him holding the scapel to her neck down in the Doc's lab was blazing like fire in her mind... she'd always hated being unable to control what happened to her and that had been the worst... knowing she was powerless to save herself. If Athrun hadn't been as amazing as he always was, she would have died then. And she hadn't been able to do a thing to stop it. The shame was almost unbearable. Noticing that her beam and ion blasts were being deflected, Cagalli brought those weapons down and took out the beam lance. She wasn't well practiced with the weapon, but she knew the basics well enough. Unlike a sword, which was mainly used for slashing, the beam lance was best used as a thrusting weapon, though you could slice with it if you were good and knew what you were doing. Cagalli eschewed that tactic though, hitting her thrusters and charging forward, lance extended, aiming directly for the middle of the Fury. Frost managed to fall backwards at the last second, so that the strike only grazed him, but enough force was imparted by the charge to knock the off balance Fury from it's feet. Cagalli found herself overwhelmed by her fear, anger and surprise... so much so that she quite forgot any sort of rational approach to combat. Screaming incoherently, she slammed her beam lance down at the Fury repeatedly, hammering at it like she was choping at a extremely tough log.

Eric Kellson hadn't been able to do much of anything since he'd staggered back into the battle zone. All of the fights were taking place at such a speed and ferocity that he wasn't sure he could have kept up even if his Crusader was in pristine condition, much less the near wreck it was now. He'd watched Ysak in the Duelist fight off the three allied mobile suits and while Ysak had not made it look easy, he had done it, which was a feat Eric couldn't see many of his contemporaries being able to boast of, especially considering the skill and power of the three unknown allied mobile suits. Then he'd witnessed the unbelievable attack launched by the green and red mobile suit, with the cage of bouncing beam blasts. Private Eric thought the attack was a bit flashy for a soldier to use... it looked like something out of an action movie. But it had been undeniably effective, stripping freedom of movement from the Duelist and then climaxing in a whirl of motion so fast he couldn't track it, but which ended with the Duelist lying defeated on the ground with more than a couple of knives sticking out of it. And then four more unidentified mobile suits had dropped out of the sky and engaged the three unknown allies. Well, three of them had anyway,while the fourth seemed to be doing what Eric had previously thought impossible, tying up every last bit of the reinforcements singlehandedly while his friends fought on the ground below. Eric had noticed with a shiver that the mobile suit up in the sky was not only holding almost eighty mobile suits plus jets and armor at bay, but he was doing it without destroying a single one of them. He forced himself to concentrate on the here and now... the green and red allied mobile suit had just been floored by the pinkish red one with the beam lance and was getting the shit kicked out of it on the ground. The allied mobile suit with the black skull head was too busy trying to stay alive against the other unknown red suit to intervene. It was up to him.

Cagalli was so focused on killing Frost she did not deign to pay attention to her other screens. She was so close... a few more blows and she'd batter past that annoying shield and then it would be over. All those nightmares she had... all of the ones Lacus and Miriallia and Katie had... they'd all be gone, cleansed in the red fire of her beam lance as it boiled Frost into a mist of blood and body parts. hat was what she was thinking when Eric's Strie Crusader barreled into her from behind, knocking her so that she fell directly on top of the Fury. She was too close to use her beam lance and the rest of her weapons weren't aimed right. She screamed in frustration as she kicked her way off the Fury and tried to roll to her feet. She was so close... she couldn't let the monster get away now. She'd gotten to her knees before she was forced to make a desperate block with her shield to prevent Eric from splitting her in two with his beam sword. She swore in incredulity as she saw her new opponent... its shoulders were pretty much gone, it was leaking oil like a sieve and its armo was so battered it looked more like scrap metal than armor. The Strike Crusader kept hammering in at her, not letting her get her balance and not allowing her to get the room she needed to wield the beam lance properly. Despite its battered and beaten condition, Cagalli had to aceede that the pilot was quite skilled. Earlier in her career he would have been a serious problem. But now... after she'd spent months in combat alongside Athrun, Dearka and Miriallia... well, she wasn't just your average natural pilot either.

Sidestepping a downward cut from the Crusader, Cagalli brought the Rubicon down into a crouch, pivoting on her ankles the entire time so that by the time she was crouched her back was to the enemy. The moment she hit the full crouch she stood up again, angling her shield out so it was parallel to the ground. She completed her turn and brough the edge of her shield slamming up into the torso of the Strike Crusader, knocking it back a step and opening a new rent in the armor. She opened up with her head mounted 20mm CIWS guns, rattling dozens of shells off the front and sides of her enemy, until he brought up his shield and was forced to take yet another step back. Though nothing like a threat to the Strike Rubicon or even a Strike Crusader normally, Eric was well aware that his armor was more a name than an actuality and he couldn't afford to let any bullets get inside through the holes in his defenses... it would be unbearably embarrassing to be taken out by a CIWS. By the time he'd lowered his shield, the pink mobile suit had skipped backwards far enough to bring its own beam weapon into play and Eric found himself on the defensive, it taking all he had left in him to avoid the unending deluge of jabs and stabs from the beam lance. He'd once again picked a fight he was a little out of his league for. He had just parried a thrust that had nearly sneaked under his shield to take off a leg when alarms started blaring in his cockpit again. He jerked around, looking for where the attack was coming from. But it wasn't an attack. His lube oil had finally run out, and the battery leak had worsened... as he watched the last of his power reserves vanished, the LED screens turning off as the indicator reached zero. His entire mobile suit died around him, exhausted of power... he couldn't see his beam sword flicker and sputter then collapse inwards on itself, but he knew it was happening. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blow that would finish him.

Athrun was frowning in concentration. Ashino knew his way around a sword fight quite well... better than Athrun had been expecting. In Athrun's experience, most mobile suit pilots focused primarily on using their ranged weapons, neglecting to spend much time at all practicing with the melee side of a mobile suit's arsenal. This was partly the fault of training... soldiers had not fought hand to hand in wars for centuries, except in the most exceptional of cases. But it also seemed to Athrun that many people just had a natural aversion to melee combat. It was more frightening than ranged combat, perhaps, since you could not deny that you were in the middle of a fight, rather than just playing some very real game. In any case, he usually found that he had a significant advantage against even skilled pilots as soon as he brought the fight to close quarters, where instinct and hair trigger reflexes decided things, not targeting systems or weapon firepower. Given the loadout of the enemy mobile suit, with its heavy gatling cannon, leg missile launchers and shoulder beam cannons, Athrun had thought that Ashino might be hurting a bit on the melee side of things. He had been wrong. Though his beam sword was shorter than Athrun's, more like a beam machete than a beam sword, Ashino was undeniably skilled in its use and apparently not at all afraid to get up close and personal, chopping and hacking away with the rectangular bladed weapon. Athrun had been puzzled as to why the weapon looked like it did initially, since beams had no weight, it wasn't to provide additional mass. He had found through experience that the beam blade of the Bane, though no heavier than a normal beam weapon, was more highly powered and more solid... for lack of a better phrase. Several times, Ashino's blade had bent Athrun's own and once it had nearly cut through it, disrupting the magnetic field that contained the plasma of the sword until Athrun had disengaged and dodged out of the clinch.

Athrun had noticed Frost's arrival onto the battlefield with a small corner of his mind, and he had also noticed Cagalli orienting to take care of the situation. Frankly he wouldn't have blamed her if she had just run away, she was no match for Frost and everyone knew it. But no, she had stayed with him and kept watching over his back. The small part of his mind that was paying attention to that sent a few waves of warm pleasure through his body... he truly was just about the luckiest man alive. He'd been shocked when she'd taken Frost down and was hammering at him while the BCPU just sort of writhed on the ground, unable to get away. _Is it really Frost in there? There's no way the Frost I know would be taken down so easily by Cagalli. Hell, he fought both Kira and I to a standstill last time we tangled... and that was two on one. But she certainly seems to have the situation well in hand._ Athrun turned his nearly full attention back to the fight on hand. He dipped his left shoulder and brought his shield in tight, using his legs to propel himself at Ashino, bringing the shield up and out to slam into Ashino's shield, locking it up and to the side, while Athrun rotated his sword hand one hundred eighty degrees and stabbed downwards with the right blade of his bouble bladed beam saber. He scored a slight hit, charring the armor into a fused scar along the right torso and leg of the Bane, but Ashino slid backwards and out of the weapon path before he could do more than surface damage.

Displeased with himself, Ashino chided himself into greater efforts. That was the third time Athrun had marked the Bane during this fight, and Ashino had only managed to hit his foe once, when he'd fallen down into the hole, and that damage was superficial in the extreme. Combat stiumlents were pumping through his blood and his emotional training was turning his vision red with bloodlust. Usually Ashino would choke back on those feelings... he liked to be in control of his actions, but perhaps right now that fine contol was not what he needed to win this fight. Truth be told, Ashino wasn't fully comfortable in this melee arena. He could fight in it just fine but it wasn't his mode of choice. He liked being at medium range, perhaps fifty to a hundred meters... close enough for pinpoint weapons fire, but far enough away that he could use his sharp mind and tactical sense to maneuver his foes as he saw fit. At distances of less than ten meters or so he felt slightly unclassed by Athrun, whos grasp of melee combat was quite beyond Ashino's... he'd only survived this long because of his enhancements, not because of any particular skill for swordfighting. He just wasn't creative enough to be a true swordfighter... Athrun had yet to come at him with the same attack twice, while Ashino's attacks had been limited to just a few different types of thrusts, slashes and short chops. Athrun also used his shield as much more of an offensive weapon than a defensive barrier, using it to slam and push and block Ashino's vision with regularity. Ashino smiled a thin smile... his own shieldwork was not nearly as impressive but perhaps it was time to set foot on a slightly different path. Out of sword range for a brief moment he dropped his own shield, freeing up his left hand. More accurately, freeing up the power leeching attachments in the fingers of that hand.

Athrun raised his eyebrows when he saw that Ashino had dropped his shield. _What is that canny bastard up to? Why would he drop his shield... its been just about the only thing keeping him in the fight. There has to be a reason... a second weapon, perhaps? But why wouldn't he have been using that from the start?_ Athrun diverted his wing flyers into a slightly wider circle, noting that they would need to return to the Righteous to recharge within the next two minutes. In the meanwhile, he had them target Ashino with their dual 75mm autocannon. _If he wants to rid himself of some protection, it would be rude of me to let him get away without rueing it._ Shell explosions walked their way along the flanks and sides of the Bane, unable to penetrate the phase shift armor. _But they don't have to... they just have to make him pay attention to them. Just a little. THERE!_ Athrun had noticed a slight shift in the Bane's stance, a centimeter lowering of its weapon hand as Ashino's attention slipped for a moment to track the wing flyers. He needed no further urging, blitzing forward with jets blazing, shield up and high, poised to come down to block or crush, while the beam sword was low and angled slightly to the side, lined up to bisect the Bane from left hip to right shoulder.

But Ashino's attention had not slipped because of the wing flyers, which he ignored much as a man ignores buzzing gnats, since their fire could not hurt him. No, he'd been allowing his rage to get the better of him just a little, to start acting more on instinct than logic. He saw the attack for what it was... if he blocked the sword he'd get the shield to the head, and the phase shift armored shield would almost certainly hit hard enough to do some sort of serious damage. And now that he no longer had his own shield, if he did not block the sword he'd get chopped in two. Or there was option three. Ashino countercharged, bringing himself in low as well to reduce the amount of room Athrun had to maneuver his sword in. He kept his sword low and inside of Athrun's and he engaged their swords, pushing th longer and slimmer blade safely out to the side. The shield started to come down and Ashino put the Bane into a slide tackle, legs entangling with the Righteous's and free hand flailing up to catch the shield hand by the elbow as the Righteous tripped forward and fell onto the Bane with a crash that caused several of Ashino's secondary screens to spark and short out. He brought his beam sword back around and tried to cut at Athrun, but the angle was bad and he couldn't get any force into the blow, the beam particles skittering shyly away from the golden glow which seemed to surround the Righteous. The power leecher was drawing thirty megawatts of power out of the Righteous... in about a minute he'd have enough charge to fire the Mjolnir cannon. That was too long. He dropepd his beam sword and wrapped his other arm around the Righteous, pinning its sword arm to its side as Athrun tried to rotate his wrist to bring the twin blades of the beamsaber to bear. He was now drawing sixty megawatts and had only to maintain his hold for thirty seconds.

Athrun swore mightily... he'd fallen into a well laid and executed trap, or so it appeared. He'd thought Ashino off guard and foolish for dropping his shield, but now he understood, since his reactor overpower alarms were wailing at him as the Bane leeched power directly from him into some extremely large capacitators. He'd heard Dearka and Ysak talk about this weapon... after stealing enough power the Bane would fire what amounted to a supercharged bolt of lightning from the projector on its chest, a short ranged attack with enough power to cut right through a hillside after two or three mobile suits. What he did not know was how long it took to charge and that was really what he needed to know. He struggled to break free of the grapple, but lacked the leverage in his current horizontal position, with one arm of the Bane wrapped around his torso, its legs tangled in his and its other arm holding his shield arm by the upper arm near the elbow. His mind raced, trying to figure some way out of this predicament. As was all too often the case for Athrun, being the self reliant and independent person he was, he completely neglected to think about his closest and most likely source of aid, who was paying more than a little bit of attention to the trouble her fiancee was in. Cagalli had been about to turn back to finish Frost after the Strike Crusader suddenly succumbed to its wounds and powered off, but then she'd noticed the exchange between Athrun and Ashino that had them grappling on the ground. It was really no choice at all... she could finish off Frost, who had just recently recovered his feet and was staggering away... or she could help Athrun, who for once looked to be in real trouble, unable to attack the mobile suit that had him in some sort of half bear hug.

"ATHRUN! Don't move!" Cagalli ordered over their private channel.

"Cag-Cagalli? Where did... nevermind, you were here all along, right?" _Good situational awareness, dummy. You had backup in the area this whole time and you didn't even think to use it. Way to trust. Way to plan ahead. I thought I was past this sort of individualized thinking._ "Did you get Frost?" Athrun asked, before noticing the Fury stumbling away down a street, heading for the building complex it had launched from, which was about an eighth of a mile away. His mind retracked itself. "What do you mean, don't move?"

"I mean DON'T MOVE! Not even a little bit." Cagalli said firmly, trying to hide her nervousness... she was confident in her accuracy and the worth of her targeting systems... but there was normal confident and confident that she could shoot into a grapple without hitting the person she loved most. She was the former, not the latter. Stowing her beam lance, she had taken out the ion cannon again and was circling around, trying to find the best position to take her shot from. It wasn't easy... the Righteous was slightly bigger than the Bane, and it had fallen on top of it in a way that covered most of the vital areas almost completely. She had something of a shot at the head and upper torso, but she didn't want to take that unless it was absolutely necessary, since if her aim was off even a little, she'd blow the same piece right out of the Righteous.

"Well, whatever you are doing, please hurry up. He's draining power from me and then he's probably going to shoot me with some sort of lightning bolt. You remember, he tried to do it to Ysak back in the desert. I think I might have a little more trouble dealing with it though, lacking the photon cloak as I do. I don't know when he'll have enough power to take the shot and I don't really want to find out." Athrun said, immediately doing his best to keep the Righteous as still as a statue.

"You seem calm. Calmer than I would be." Cagalli noted, frowning as she realized she could find no better shot. Grimacing, she brought up the ion cannon and did her best to target the face of the Bane, aiming right between the reddish camera eyes that glowed in the black skull like head.

"My life is in good hands. Shouldn't I be calm?" Athrun replied instantly, knowing that he could not let Cagalli begin to doubt herself. Though most people thought of her as a extremely fiery and independent person, he knew that she privately agonized over every major decision she made, unless you pissed her off or scared her, in which case she would go right off the cuff. She was still a seventeen year old girl, somewhere inside her, and she had some confidence problems when it came to pinch situations like this, because she feared the consequences of failure so much. "Just think of this like our little escapade on the rooftop in Pearl Harbor. I'm out of touch right now, Cagalli. It's up to you to jump."

"Right..." Cagalli took a deep breath and dared to close her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again she felt much better. _Just like the roof. Come on, Cagalli... you made that jump look easy. Now you just have to do the same here. Just keep your hand steady... steady... target locked... steady..._ her finger pressed down lightly but firmly on the trigger, sending a lance of dark greenish ionized energy out of the barrel of the ion cannon. The ion particle beam arrowed past the Righteous's head and neck, missing by less than a quarter meter... close enough for the beam to be slightly disrupted by the Angel Halo as it passed. The slight disruption wasn't enough to affect the power of the beam, though it did throw the aim off a little. Instead of blowing the Bane's head off, the beam struck right at the junction of neck and shoulder, half severing the head and causing an explosion that all but shattered the left shoulder of the Bane. Ashino's Mjolnir capacitors had reached full charge just as the ion beam hit him, throwing his hands off the triggers and causing almost half of his status board to light up cherry red with warning lights. Vital systems, including his main computer and targeting systems, had been damaged by the hit. His moment of distraction cost him, as the Righteous finally managed to find a bit of levarage and it burst free from the embrace falling off the Bane and quickly rolling away. His rage flared like a ember igniting inside him, but Ashino forced it back down... he'd let himself go on instinct before and it had helped a little, but not enough that he felt the need to give in again. Right now it was time to retreat. Still lying down, Ashino hit his thrusters, sending the Bane careening along the ground, throwing up a huge rooster tail of debris and sparks until he finally managed to gain some altitude.

"I knew you could do it." Athrun said, masking a sigh of relief.

"Don't lie to me. I can tell. But thanks for trying." Cagalli retorted, wincing as sweat dripped off her forehead and into her eyes. She had just opened them again when a huge flash of light came from behind them, followed moments later by the sound of a hundred thunderbolts and a wall of wind so strong the Rubicon was rocked back and forth until she widened her stance. Athrun was almost thrown back to the ground from his knees when the blast struck, he caught himself on a building instead, putting his arm almost halfway through the evacuated structure. "What was..." Cagalli started to say, when an even huger blast of light and noise slammed into her and sent her stumbling backwards, arms up to block out the light. She found herself in the middle of a scream, which she did her best to cut back on, since her comm channel to Athrun was still open.

"Everyone is still alive." Kira's calm and determined voice suddenly said over the radio. "Dearka hit Cray with his artillery cannon, thats all. Ysak's alive, though he's barely standing. He and Dearka are retreating... Miriallia apparently took a knock during the fight and she might need medical attention." Kira tried to keep his voice neutral, but Cagalli knew he was seriously worried... anything that could hurt a pilot enough to require medical attention was probably pretty serious. And it wasn't like they were very close to help, either.

"With the Earthshaker. That's all? You make it sound like a spitwad." Athrun said dryly. "So... how many pieces is Cray in?"

"One as far as I can tell... but he's not moving either."

"Wow, they really build those Earth Forces mobile suits to last." Athrun said, amazed. "So, retreat is the order of the day?"

"We got what we came for." Kira acknowledged. "I don't see any reason to continue intruding on Panama."

"What about Frost and Ashino? We can't just leave them alone, can we? They're both here, vulnerable. We won't have a much better chance of finishing them off for a long time." Cagalli protested, sighting in on the two mobile suits that were standing inside the enwalled complex they had deployed from, probably right at the lip of the launch bay.

"The Grand Buster and the Duelist are in rough shape, I'm nearly overwhelmed up here, but if you think you can take care of them in the next minute or so, please do. Longer than that and you should just spend your time getting out of here." Kira replied.

"You sound like you want me to do my best to kill them?" Cagalli asked, bringing all of her weapons to bear. "Isn't that counter..."

"It would seem that way... but Lacus and I have agreed... the BCPU's are too dangerous to both us and the greater cause for peace. Lacus think's she can get through to Ashino, given time and the opportunity, but I have my doubts. Frost and Cray are beyond hope. The best thing we can do for them would be to end their pain as quickly as possible. If there was any other way..."

"You'd be using it, yeah."Athrun cut in, his wing flyers reattaching themselves to his back. He brought out his rifle and aimed his railguns. Cagalli and Athrun opened fire as one, slowly walking backwards towards the sea one pace at a time. At an eighth of a mile and opening, their shots were not the most accurate, but Ashino and Frost were not the most agile targets either, since Frost was still recovering and most of Ashino's control systems were malfunctioning because of battle damage. The fateful shots actually came from Cagalli.

Jean had been left in a room on the third floor of one of the adminstrative buildings by Asmodeus. The room was usually used for storage of some sort, as evidenced by the few boxes and packing detrius scattered over the floor. It had three windows, all unopenable and facing towards the inner courtyard of the complex, which had levered out of the way to allow the mobile suits to launch, and a single door allowed people into and out of the room. This door was locked and it had remained locked and shut despite Jean's best efforts to first pick the lock using the credit card trick and then kick it down. She'd been in there for only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity, especially given Ash's last warning to her. She didn't quite know what to think, but she did know that she was scared of the plain looking man with the icy blue eyes who had walked her up here without a word and then locked her in without a single look back. She kicked the door another time, but it refused to give way. Frustrated she went over to the windows and looked outside. She hoped Eric was okay. Ash had promised to look after him, and she believed Ash meant what he said, but in battle there were so many things that could go wrong. She watched as the short green and red mobile suit came limping up to stand near the hanger bay lip. She thought it odd that it was limping, as there was no battle damage she could see. Less than a minute later Ash appeared, jetting down from the sky for a very rough landing next to his comrade. He was battle damaged... the head half blown off, the left shoulder all but gone and several large burn scars along its torso and arms.

Barely had Ash landed then he came under fire again. Long range fire judging by the inaccuracy, but it was one thing to be calm about such things when you were looking at them over a news screen... quite another when you knew the person being shot at, could see them being shot at, and were in fact being shot at yourself due to the inaccuracy of the fire. Small caliber beam blasts stitched their way into the building she was in, melting through windows and blowing torso sized chunks of seared masonry out of the walls. Three beam blasts entered the room she was in, all through the window to the left of the one she was standing at, melting through the thin glass like it wasn't there at all before impacting on the back wall and door, blowing the door to flaming splinters and sending chunks of burned plaster flying like chaff. Jean had screamed and thrown herself to the floor as the beams came in... even though they were small caliber, she could feel the heat as they passed more than five feet away, it felt like she'd placed her whole side on a grill for a moment. She patted her shirt and felt where the cloth had singed slightly. That was too close. Barely had she returned her riveted attention to the outside world when the unthinkable happened. Ash had just finished turning his mobile suit around to return fire at the unseen enemy when a darker green beam... not a beam rifle or cannon blast but something else, struck him directly in the chest, dissolving away the armor like a suger statue hit with a watergun. Apparently the impact was enormous too, as Ash's mobile suit staggered back until it's heels were on the very brink of the drop into the hanger. But the real killer came when four missiles streaked by, seemingly slow enough for Jean to count the red serial numbers painted on their sides before they struck Ash's mobile suit in exactly the same spot the dark green beam had, burrowing through the little armor remaining before detonating inside the mobile suit.

Ashino found himself at peace. Before he'd been angry at being tag teamed by Athrun and Cagalli and he'd been eager to retrieve the spare weapons stored in the hanger so he could return to fight on his own terms, especially with the Mjolnir cannon already charged. But then he'd spied Jean looking out at him with a hopeful expression from the third story of one of the adminstrative buildings surrounding the inner courtyard and his anger had fled like it had never existed, replaced instead by a contentment he'd never felt before. He wished he could tell her that her brother was safe, but there was no way for him to communicate with her. He'd been just aout to turn and "accidentally" break out the wall of the room she was in so she could escape when the incoming fire from Cagalli and Athrun started striking him, Frost and the buildings around them. The fire was not very accurate, but was actually more of a problem for that, since while Ashino could deal with being shot at, he doubted Jean was anywhere near happy about it, and the thought of her being killed by an errant beam brought his anger back worse than before, boiling through his blood. His heart had actually frozen for a moment in dread when he saw the beams pentrate the windows into her room, but found himself smiling again when she reappeared at the window a moment later, eyes still on him. He had just turned to start returning fire when one of Cagalli's ion cannon blasts caught him full on the chest, just below the cockpit region, blowing through the armor and eating away at the vital systems underneath. The Bane staggered back a few steps, until he was just at the lip of the hanger bay. No other place to retreat. His main screen unfuzzed just long enough for him to see the missiles inbound. He tried to dodge but his controls failed to respond, the main computer having at last given up the ghost.

He didn't hear or see the explosions, but he certainly felt them, as the missiles detonated inside the vitals of the Bane, holing the reactor, causing it to enter an emergency shutdown, destroying the leg driver mechanisms and worst of all, destabilizing the Mjolnir capacitors. Huge arcs of whitish-purple lightning crawled out of the hole in the Bane's gut and danced over the rest of the machine and the area round it, melting glassy trenches in the tarmac and buildings. Overbalanced by the repeated impacts, the Bane toppled backwards into the hanger bay. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. Ashino found himself looking into Jean's eyes and Jean found herself looking into the glowing red camera eyes of the Bane, knowing that Ash was looking back at her. Something that Ashino could not identify flashed between them at that instant, rendering him completely calm and almost happy. "Is this... love?" Ashino asked as the Bane shudded and shook in midfall, small pieces sloughing off like dead skin while the still discharging Mjolnir capacitors had finally reached a critical point of destabilization. As one the capacitors, each the size of a human torso and charged with millions of amps of current, exploded with the force of bunker busting bombs, shattering the high tensile titanium alloys that composed the Bane's skeleton like they were made from spun glass and causing the entire machine to burst open like an overcooked lobster before detonating in a flash of fire and sound that threw the Fury from its feet to roll for ten meters across the tarmac, while simultaneously blowing out every last remaining window in the entire compound and utterly scouring the concealed hanger of all forms of life. Secondary explosions rumbled up from underground as the spare weapons and ammunition stored in the hanger cooked off in series, sending plumes of fire and smoke rupturing up through blazing cracks in the ground as the entire sublevel of the facility started to implode in on itself from the damage.

In her third floor room Jean recovered herself from the floor to which she'd been thrown by the force of the explosion. Unmindful of the blood trickling down her arms and forehead from the myriad glass cuts she'd received when the window blew in, she rushed back to the window, staring aghast at the inferno raging below her. The flames were shooting thirty meters into the air above the hanger and the smoke cloud seemed to stretch higher than the mountains and was growing steadily. Of Ash and his mobile suit there was no trace... not even wreckage, though of course it had probably fallen to the bottom of the hanger... which was a surer death sentence, if anything, since explosions and fresh flames came roaring up from below with near continuous frequency. She found her eyes were wet, yet no tears would come. She did not want to acknowledge the fact that the charming, shy and generous man she only barely knew was dead, blasted to pieces when his machine was annihilated by enemy fire. Such things weren't supposed to happen to the good guys, to the knights in shining white armor. Yet the proof that it did was blazing merrily right in front of her. She did not know how long she stood and stared with blurry eyes at the pyre of Ash before some instinctual part of her mind reminded her of Ash's warning and took control of her body, moving her, still in her numb haze, out the shattered door and into the corridors and stairways of the building, which eventually lead her outside and into the rest of the base, where she disappeared into the ruckus without even a trace... much to Asmodeus's weary disgruntlement when things finally calmed down enough for him to check up on her.


	70. Day in the life of Cosmos

Sai scanned the morning newspaper as he sat in his desk in his plush corner office on the thirtieth floor of the CWM administration building situated just a few miles outside the city of Pearl Harbor. His view looked out at the lush jungles and white sandy beaches and turquoise ocean, rather than at the remains of the ruined city. The newspaper was one of several that were specially delivered from the mainland of the Atlantic Federation, not a local newspaper, so it contained news from around the world, not just Hawaii and the Pacific theatre. A local paper sat neatly folded on his desk, waiting for its subsequent perusal. It had been part of his daily routine ever since he started working for CWM to read about news on the international front first while he drank his morning coffee, then turn to the comics in the local paper to wind down for a few minutes before getting started on the day. Nowadays, after the nuking of Pearl Harbor, he didn't have much time for the funnies anymore... he instead devoured both papers quite carefully, digesting every last little bit of information about the war they contained, comparing what was written in the papers to what he knew from the confidential military reports he managed to secure from his supporters in Blue Cosmos. More than half of what was reported in the papers was out and out propaganda and much of the rest was either exaggerated or undersold in order to mitigate the understanding of the common person about just how poorly the war was going. The headlines of the international paper still went on about "INVASION FORCES RECUPERATING FOR SECOND PUSH IN ORB" and "MASSIVE ZAFT CASUALTIES WILL BRING SWIFT END TO WAR". It was true that the EA forces were recuperating in Orb, but there was no second push at Carpentaria planned... the EA simply did not have the available forces for another go at the ZAFT fortress and what forces they did have were so battered and beaten they would be lucky to maintain defensive positions, much less mount any sort of new offensive for at least another month or two. It was also true that ZAFT had suffered serious losses during the battle of Carpentaria... but they had been the victors in the end and in the greater scope of things they were much better off than the devastated EA troops.

The local paper was a little more faithful to reality, discussing as it did mostly the status of the rebuilding of the Pearl Harbor military bases and the city itself, which was proceeding slowly if steadily. Already most of the serious blast damage had been cleaned up, while the ruined buildings were being leveled at the rate of two or three a day. New construction was scheduled to begin in three months. The city was being completely redesigned, quite literally from the ground up, something which the displaced residents regarded with mixed feelings, though most were just glad that the city was being rebuilt at all... there had been talk early on after the tragedy of just abandoning the city as a historic site. Still, Sai could not help but spot a few articles where what actually was had been glossed over by what people were supposed to believe. He grunted sourly... academically he could understand the importance of morale boosting and misinformation, but something still didn't sit well with him. It was almost like the entire populace was being manipulated into supporting the war... something which shouldn't have been necessary. After all, when a man gets attacked, what reason is there to continue reminding him that he has to fight back? If he wants to defend himself he will, and any urging is unnecessary and possibly even counterproductive. Sai knew he wasn't the only citizen who read the papers with more than a hint of suspicion and doubt these days. He finished scanning the international paper, checking the stock market to see, unsurprisingly, that CWM shares had risen another two points, to a staggering 2345.78. Other military contractors and essential suppliers were also on the rise... while most everything else was down in the pits and digging deeper every day. War might be good for industry, but the rest of the economy was dying... and the only cure was lasting peace, which seemed to be out of sight right at the moment.

He was just reaching for the local paper when one of the three phones on his desk rang. He had three phones because he was a senior vice president... and because phones apparently equaled status in this building. One phone, the black one, was for normal calls and also accessed the building intercom. The next was cream white and that was for calls outside the immediate confines of the building and local area... its most often use was either sending or receiving calls to/from Vanai. And then there was the phone that was ringing... the dark blue phone reserved for calls from senior CWM executives. It was the phone that rang the least often... and the one he spent the most time on, conversely, because whenever it did ring it meant that something important was happening... which meant a business meeting. Sai had yet to attend a teleconference meeting that had lasted less than five hours and he gave the blue phone a more than somewhat disgusted look because of this. It was barely eight thirty in the morning and he had a lot of paperwork to do today, not to mention a few laboratory tests and a few private projects to look into. Plus a dinner date with Vanai at seven thirty he could absolutely not be late for. And he had to allow for an extra thirty minutes of time because his bodyguard detail had been changed and the new men were still getting used to his habits and so required him to wait for them to be ready for him to move from place to place. He reached for the phone, his expression growing more sour.

Cyprus and his men had been recalled the day before, completely out of the blue. They had not been happy about it, but the recall notice had come as a direct order from not only Captain Asmodeus Sark, the Hellhounds commanding officer, but from the authority of the Joint Chief's of Staff AND Cervantes Zunnichi himself. It was almost like Asmodeus had expected Cyprus to be reluctant to follow the order and had compensated by frontloading it with extra high authority. Given how his normally taciturn and unflappable bodyguard-friend had reacted, Sai privately thought Asmodeus knew his man well... inconveniently well in this case. To say that Cyprus had been displeased with the order was like saying that a hurricane had slightly fast winds. But despite nearly a full minute of shouting and pacing... a minute during which all twelve members of the squad plus Sai had stared in fearful awe... Cyprus had regained hold of his emotions like a iron porticullis dropping in front of a gate, cutting himself off in mid tirade and bringing himself to a state of near absolute stillness within a second. Turning his back to the squad, he had made a few brisk hand motions directing them to gather up their gear and pack up for rapid departure. A second series of gestures brought him and Sai outside and down to the beach, where Cyprus had stopped with his toes just shy of the gently lapping waves, staring intently out to sea in silence. Sai had been about to say something when Cyprus held up a hand for silence. After a minute more he finally turned back to regard his charge and boss.

"I've been ordered to take my team, the Alpha Hellhounds, to Orb." Cyprus said shortly. "The mission statement say's we are being recalled for an important briefing... but that is a load of horse shit." Cyprus spat out, his voice back to its inflectionless norm. "I don't like this one bit, sir. There is only one reason that Asmodeus and Cervantes would want to gather all the Hellhounds in Orb... a nation which is currently hosting more than its fair share of peace protests and anti-alliance gatherings. We're going to be charged with crowd control. And not the friendly sort. Blood is going to be spilt in Orb... and me and mine are going to be the ones spilling it."

Sai considered that for a few moments and slowly nodded. It made sense, of a sort. Everyone with half a brain and an internet connection knew there was going to be a really big protest in Orb any week now... a public demonstration of the like not seen since the beginning of the centuryand the initial controversy over Coordinators. Knowing his father in law, Cervantes would not... perhaps could not... let such an event prosper. It would utterly ruin his prestige and reputation with the higher ups in the Earth Alliance if he allowed the territory he was all but lord of to host such a public rebellion against the Alliance... even a peaceful rebellion. And to Cervantes, the loss of prestige and reputation was far worse than any mortal wound on the battlefield could be. So he was recalling all of his best men, the ones he could count on to follow his orders with absolute efficiency, to help contain what he saw as a crisis. Sai shook his head slightly... too bad that more than half the men that Cervantes was now counting on were in fact secretly opposed to his goals. Too bad for Cervantes anyway. "So what will you do? I'm not ready yet to confront my father in law... he's still in far too strong a position for me to challenge him, publicly or privately."

"I... will go." Cyprus replied. "Appearances must be kept. Suspicions must be allayed... assumed loyalties must be observed. And as you say, the Isolationists are not yet strong enough to confront Cervantes Zunnichi... he still bestrides the Alliance like a colossus and any attempt at a confrontation will only end in tragedy for us all." Cyprus paused a moment. "Still, this pleases me not at all. The orders say that temporary guards have been assigned to you... but I do not know the group or unit they come from and that makes me uneasy. You are the leader of the Isolationists and the last true hope for peace in this world, though only a few of us know that now. If we were to lose you, we would lose more than a friend and a good man... we would lose all hope of stopping this genocidal war. Please, sir... be extremely cautious. I will endeavor to make my time in Orb as short as possible... but until I return you must triple your guard and be constantly wary."

"You make it sound like there are assassins hounding my every step, Cyprus." Sai said, trying to lighten the mood a bit with some humor, though he was already more than a little worried. Cyprus, the legendary lieutenant, was not known for his speeches or for being a worrywart... given how effusive his friend was being and the nature of his words... well, it was sobering to say the least. He looked at Cyprus and found himself locked into a stare that he could not pull away from. He didn't know how long Cyprus kept their gazes locked, with his lips pursed into a tight line and a grim cast to his features.

"Do not underestimate the number or resolve of thine enemies, sir. Just because you have yet to be attacked in any serious manner does not mean that the enemy has signed a treaty saying they will not make an attempt on your life tomorrow or the next day. Though you are not the most public of figures, you can be certain that ZAFT knows exactly who has married Vanai Zunnichi... Mr. Zunnichi, sir." Cyprus said, his voice chilly, reminding Sai that he was officially part of the Zunnichi family now, including in name. "And while they know they could never assassinate Cervantes... perhaps his son in law is less well protected? You can be sure that someone will notice that your guards have been changed... if for no other reason than they can now see you have guards whereas before no one knew we were around, except for a select few. And while the senior staff of Blue Cosmos may have turned a blind eye to your internet postulating, can you say with certainty that others in the organization have done so? There are many die hard killers in Blue Cosmos who would not appreciate the Isolation Plan one tiny little bit... they would gladly kill you for being impure to the organization if they had the chance... especially if they could make it look like the Coordinators did it. Not too hard a frame job, actually..."

"I get it." this time it was Sai who held up his hand for silence, finally tearing his gaze from Cyprus's. "I'll be careful... very careful. You have my solemn word." he said, returning to skewer Cyprus with his own glare as he said it, knowing that when speaking to Cyprus, sincerety equaled prolonged steady eye contact. Cyprus studied Sai for a long few moments and then finally nodded, just barely.

"Then take this as extra insurance... keep it in a place you can reach quickly." Cyprus unfastened the pistol holster at his side and held it forth. "It's a standard issue special forces pistol, actually manufactured by a subsidary of CWM. It fires 10mm jacketed hollow point bullets and has a clip of eleven rounds. It's effective range is approximately seventy feet, though if I were you I wouldn't expect you to hit much beyond forty feet. Still, if you can hit your target, you can be assured that unless they are wearing fairly serious body armor, they will go down and likely not get back up again. I've used this gun for four years now and it has yet to jam or misfire on me. May it serve to protect you if need be until I can return to do the job properly. I hope you will never need to use it... but it is there to be used if need arises. Understand?"

"I do." Sai almost reverently took the pistol in its holster from his friend, feeling the weight of the loaded firearm heavy in his hands. He did not buckle the holster belt around his waist... it was patently ridiculous to think of himself as a combatant... he had very little training and less inclination to use firearms. His worth was not calculated in the harm he could do to the enemy personally, but by what he could do to change the course of history through his ideas and words. "Thank you for this responsibility, Cyprus."

Cyprus had not responded with anything more than another serious nod before he returned to the command bunker to gather his own gear up for packing. Two hours later the Hellhound team had left, each waving a simple farewell as they passed Vanai, sunning herself on the patio, while giving a sharp salute to Sai as they walked past. The next day an unmarked helicopter had arrived, just like it did every morning, to fly him the fifteen miles to the main island where he would meet with his armored limosuine for the ten minute drive to the CWM complex. Inside the helicopter were four men in business suits, obviously part of the new guard force. Though for all their bluff competence Sai could not help but feel slightly wary with them around. It wasn't something he had been able to place his finger on until he finally reached the silence of his office. Then it became obvious. Before when he'd gone to and from work, while the Hellhounds had been around, he'd never been able to pick them out from the crowds and ordinary people around him... he knew they were there but there was no evidence. The new guards were highly visible, always staying within easy sight of him and they did not blend well with the people in the background, despite their business suits and dark shades... or maybe because of them. They looked too much in place to be real office workers.

Sai had placed the gun in one of the little used kitchen drawers in Vanai's house... his house, now. Vanai, for all her beauty and political skills, was not even close to a cook. She could burn a peanut butter sandwich. They had several live in servants that took care of the cooking and cleaning around the house, but they hardly ever used the main kitchen, which was mainly for show and acting as a sort of food storage plus bar during parties, which Vanai hosted frequently for various local and international dignitaries. Thus there was little danger of anyone else discovering it or moving it from its hiding place and it was still in a central location he could find easily if trouble arose. All these thoughts flashed through his head in an instant as he reached for the ringing blue phone.

"This is Mr. Argyle speaking."Sai said as he put the phone to his ear. He could have put it on the speaker and he'd probably have to when the call turned into a teleconference, but for the moment he liked fooling himself with the thought that maybe he'd be able to hang up quickly. He used his birth name because conferences on the blue phone often involved his father in law and it complicated things having two "Mr. Zunnichi's" on the line. He listened to the voice on the other end of the line for a minute or two before putting the phone down with a sigh that he hoped the other people could not hear. With the flick of a switch built into his desk the windows polarized themselves to a level where it would be impossible to see through from either side while the speakerphone activated itself and a forty inch flatscreen monitor descended from the ceiling, crackling to life and splitting into ten seperate but equally sized boxes. It was an impromptu board of directors meeting. Cervantes was too busy with unspecified matters in Orb to attend and so Sai had to sit in and observe in his place. It was horridly boring but Sai forced himself to pay attention as the various executives in charge of the myriad aspects of CWM gave their various status reports.

Mobile suit production was up another ten percent, which Sai supposed was a good thing, considering the number of casualties that had to be replaced from Carpentaria. He frowned when no knew concepts for improved mobile suits were brought forward... if the R and D teams didn't get their asses in gear soon the EA was going to be left behind. ZAFT was coming up with new models at a frightening pace and while the Strike Crusader was a solid, dependable upgrade for the Strike Dagger, it wasn't the be all-end all of mobile suits... not by a long shot. Sai had put several recommendations in to the R and D teams but he could hardly ask about such projects in the middle of the board meeting, as none of his projects even existed to more than half the board. Dr. Bates, senior Vice President in charge of Research and Development, his old bosses boss, was firmly on his side as was Mr. Smalls, the VP in charge of Accounting and Mr. Pojawski, VP in charge of Human Resources. But every else on the board were through and through pure stooges of Cervantes and so Sai had to wait for another time to enquire about the new mobile suit and other designs he had Dr. Bates working on in secret, while Mr. Smalls and Mr. Pojawski provided the money and manpower to slowly turn the designs into reality while keeping the rest of CWM and more importantly the rest of Blue Cosmos in the dark.

Overall profits were up a full three percent from last quarter, which cheered all the members of the board of directors immensely... it would mean another seven or eight figure bonus check at the end of the year if they kept up this pace. There were only a few setbacks... one being the loss of the administrative facility in Panama eight days prior, which had caused more than one point six four billion dollars worth of damage, plus the still massive deficit from the loss of JIHAD earlier... Sai had yet to see the formal pricetag on the mysterious base that had been eating up more than seventy percent of the R and D budget, but given that they were raking in a good forty to fifty million dollars every hour and had been since the facility was lost and they were still in the red... well that spoke for itself. That had been a hellish meeting, the day the board had convened with Cervantes to discuss that little problem, especially coming as it did on the eve of the massive catastrophe involving Carpentaria and the twelfth lunar fleet.

Morale in the company was still high though, as all workers had been receiving monthly raises plus substantial bonuses... an idea from Sai, actually. It hadn't been the most popular at the time of presentation... Cervantes had nearly had a stroke on the spot as had half the board, but when Sai showed them that even with the raises and bonuses their profits would still be increasing at twice the rate of the nearest competitor, they had backed off. Now he had been vindicated... treat the people well and they'll treat you well back. Profits had risen every month that had a raise and a bonus in it and things didn't look to be slowing down any time soon. Relationships with other major corporations were as good as could be expected... they were the leading edge of the pack in terms of military contractors and they owned significant portions of the commercial construction, electrical power and industry markets, with subsidary companies that extended throughout nearly every possible branch of business, from mass farming of foodstuffs to fine glassware to gemstones and precious metals. Truly, CWM was a corporate giant in the strictest meaning of the term... they bestrode the Earth and the Moon like a titan of mythology, casting their mighty shadow of raw economic power over every nook and cranny of the world beneath them.

Sai forced himself to stay awake and alert looking throughout the entire six hour long meeting... though to be truthful after about the first hour and a half his thoughts were mostly of Vanai and the dinner that night. She'd at last forgiven him for having views that contradicted those of her father... well, maybe forgiven was the wrong word, since she'd actually finally let herself acknowledge that Sai was in the right and had lent him her support once again. He breathed a small sigh of relief, even now, disguising it as a slight cough so the board of directors wouldn't have any reason to turn their multifarious gazes on him. Vanai was not a person you wanted to be on the bad side of... especially when you slept in the same bed. He hadn't precisely feared for his life... but the hostility in the atmosphere had felt like enough to choke a small animal. But that was all in the past... now Vanai was an Isolationist too... if one with puritanical leanings, but at least she was in his camp. Despite his strong words to Cyprus on the matter, Sai didn't know if he could truly have gone up against Cervantes if he did not have Vanai's support... fine words and ideas not withstanding, if he could not unite his own house to bring peace, what chance did he have of uniting the world to bring peace? None... none at all.

Finally the meeting came to a close and Sai could shut off the screen and start his real workday. He groaned and stretched in his chair and placed a request to one of his secretaries to bring him a few iced drinks. Without rising, he immediately got to work on the seemingly endless supply of paperwork he had to personally overview, review, sign and countersign to apparently keep the entire company running smoothly all at once. One of the qualities that had always served Sai well, throughout school, aboard the Archangel and now at CWM was that he only rarely allowed himself to be distracted from getting the job done right, in as efficient a manner as possible. Not once did he think about taking a late lunch because he'd missed his normally scheduled break... he'd just have to eat more at dinner, because the paperwork could not wait. He worked and worked, not even glancing up from his desk as the secretary brought in the tray of various iced drinks... the type didn't really matter, he just needed something to sip to keep his throat moist. He didn't even look up from the papers until his desk pinged several times in rapid succession. _Goddamn, its that late already? Damn meetings... I didn't get even half of my day in because of that tripe. I was really looking forward to checking in with Dr. Bates about the Cataphract and Archmage projects, but I guess I'll have to wait for tomorrow. Its six thirty now... I have to get moving or I'll be late for dinner... and that is not what I want. Vanai'd prolly force me to sleep outside again if I stood her up for a dinner we'd been planning for more than a week._

Quickly shuffling the paperwork into completed and un-completed piles, he secured them both in the locking drawers of his desk... while the paperwork was not strictly confidential, there was no sense in just leaving it lying about for anyone to see either... even though his office was just about the most secure room in the building. He got up, stretched his aching back and grabbed his sportsjacket from its peg on the wall. He tapped a button on a small remote device he kept in one pants pocket that would alert his security detail to the fact that he was headed down to the garage and then stepped out of his office. He waved goodnight to his three secretaries and to the senior staff that worked in the offices around his before taking the executive express elevator directly down to the garage. Despite only two or three minutes having passed since he sent the signal, his guards were already waiting for him, prepped and ready to go. Three of them rode in the limosuine with him, while four more rode ahead on motorcyles and four more behind in a SUV. He was unused to sharing the limosuine with other people, but fortunately the new guards seemed about as talkative as statues and he was able to avoid any small talk. At least until the convoy passed through one of the small coastal towns between the CWM complex and the small airfield where the helicopter was. Initially Sai had wondered why the helicopter didn't just take him directly to work, as there were several helipads on site at CWM. Cyprus had smirked ever so slightly, but it had been Sgt-major Glory who'd explained. Apparently it would be exponentially easier for potential enemies to figure out that someone important was being flown in the helicopter if it flew directly from the mansion to work and back... it would be an obvious target. By leaving at a seperate airfield, potential assassins would never be quite sure if the helicopter was carrying Sai or not.

As they passed along on the highway through the center of the town of about three or four thousand people, Sai happened to glance out one of the armored car windows to see a large crowd gathering on the beach side of the road. There looked to be at least forty or fifty people all grouped together, but what caught Sai's eye was the Blue Cosmos t shirts many were wearing and the improvised weapons... chair legs, broom handles, claw hammers and the like... that many members in the crowd brandished wildly. Plainly this was not a routine Blue Cosmos rally... something was up. "Stop the car." Sai ordered as they drew nearer to the crowd. The Blue Cosmos riot... for that was certainly what it seemed to be... was forming into a doughnut like shape, leaving a small hole in the middle. Sai could not see who or what was in that hole but given the apparent mood of the crowd, he did not want to wait till the morning paper to find out.

"But sir..." one guard started to say. Sai twisted about and locked eyes with the man, just like he had observed Cyprus to do when he was in deadly earnest. It was amazing what a little bit of direct eye contact could do... astoundingly few people could tolerate being stared in the eye, especially when the person staring at them had both a stronger force of will and a great deal of charisma... like Sai did. Certainly the guard... even though he massed about double what Sai did and was a good seven inches taller... could not take the pressure. He looked down and to the side.

"Stop the car." Sai repeated, slowly and very firmly.

"Yes, sir." the guard replied. He raised a hand to his ear and touched the radio transmitter hidden there. "Unannounced stop. Right here. Code Alpha Sigma. Everyone stay sharp." the Limosuine bled speed and coasted to a stop just a few meters behind the outermost rank of the crowd, who turned around with interest, as it was hardly every day when a very expensive looking white limousine pulled over for no apparent reason, especially an escorted one. Sai wasted no time... he opened the door himself without waiting for a guard to do it and stepped out, much to the dismay of the guards. Sai stepped out of the limo and walked briskly over to the nearest member of the crowd... a burly man wearing a Blue Cosmos sponsered T shirt with the sleeves ripped off. The shirt was white, with the Blue Cosmos globe on the back, with the words "It's not Blue enough for me." written underneath. The man was brandishing a large sledgehammer in one hand as he slowly pushed the smaller people in front of him out of his way. Well, that was what he was doing until Sai stepped forward and placed a hand on his free arm.

"What do you want?" the burly man said testily, turning around to reveal the front of his shirt, which had a normal blue and green depiction of the earth on it, with the caption "Satisfied with the World?". "Who the hell are you?" the man demanded, seeing a young man, certainly not older than nineteen or so, clad in a very expensive looking business dark blue suit with a black tie and white shirt that practically screamed custom tailored.

"What's going on here?" Sai asked in return, meeting the angry gaze of the man steadily and without apprehension. It wasn't all personal courage either... Sai knew that if the man made as if to swing the hammer at him he'd be taken down faster than he could blink by the five or six guards now clustering around the limosuine and looking on with unamused eyes. The rioter flicked his gaze past Sai and noticed the guards as well... uniform in their grey suits, red ties, off white shirts and dark sunglasses. They practically radiated professional menace. The rioter recalculated his inital impulse, which was to send the kid in the suit sprawling into the dust with a bloody nose and decided that maybe courtesy was the better part of valor.

"Isn't it obvious? We found one of them space monsters lurking around. Don't know how we missed him before... he's an obvious Coordinator. Damn it, and to think he used to live two houses down from me for months and I never knew it. Just goes to show, you can't trust nobody until you do a blood test these days." the man said grudgingly. "We're going teach the bastard a good long lesson... a lesson he will take to his grave. Which is being dug as we speak." he nodded to where a seperate party of men with shovels were scooping out a shallow indentation near the top of the beach where it met the road.

"So this is a lynch mob. What proof do you have that this man is a Coordinator. Where is he?" Sai asked, feeling a great deal of irritation and even outright anger welling up inside him. It was because of people like this that Blue Cosmos had had such a negative image after the last war.

"You can tell just by looking at him!" the man protested, shoving his way through the crowd and gesturing for Sai to follow... he'd almost reached out to grab the kid but then remembered the unsmiling men in grey suits. Sai followed his impromptu guide to the center of the ring of angry rioters. "Ain't it obvious?" the man said with grim relish. "Look at that hair! Look how blond it is! That is no natural color, you have to admit. And his eyes, they're red! No natural being has red eyes!"

Sai looked where the man was pointing, to where another man, who looked to be in his middle to late twenties, was held pinned to the ground by four others, while a fifth took his time beating him with fists and feet, pausing every so often to let a new rioter step forward to enact their own private form of justice. Indeed the man did have very golden blond hair, pale like white gold. But he was already beaten into semiconsciousness and Sai could not make out the color of his eyes. Not that it mattered. Even if it was a Coordinator, Sai couldn't just let the man get beaten to death and then buried in an unmarked grave... he may have been Blue Cosmos, but he was no murderer. This was just a man, not a monster. "CEASE THIS FARCE AT ONCE!" Sai said loudly. Few paid him any attention.

"Who the hell do you think you are, kid? You can't give us orders!" the big man who guided him here said rudely, shoving his jaw out and reaching out a hand to push Sai away.

"Mr. Zunnichi! You have a call from your wife!" one of the security guards shouted. The crowd hadn't been paying much attention before, but now the beach was as silent as the graveyard it was supposed to become. The man kicking the Coordinator on the ground stopped in mid stomp and almost fell over from surprise. The man reaching out to push Sai away froze as if he'd been turned to ice.

"My name is Sai Zunnichi, son in law of Cervantes Zunnichi." Sai said calmly and clearly, taking his business card from his wallet and showing it, front and back, to the crowd around him, who were all staring at him quite fixedly. "As for who the hell I am, currently I'm one very pissed off and irritated Senior Vice President of CWM and a very disappointed Chapter Master of the Blue Cosmos organization in Hawaii. Who the hell are you, now?"

"No... n... no one that deserves your notice, sir!" the burly man stammered, confronted by possibly the second or third most respected man in all of Blue Cosmos, the very heir to the leadership of the organization. Sai noticed that the man was suddenly sweating freely.

"We'll see about that." Sai told the man shortly. "You there... release that man... now!" Sai ordered and the four who'd been holding the supposed Coordinator to the ground lept back as if the man's skin had suddenly turned to red hot iron. Sai stalked over to the prone man and checked him... despite heavy bruising to the chest and facial regions, the man was merely unconscious, not seriously harmed. Sai had arrived before the crowd could really get started in their pogrom. Sai studied the supposed Coordinator's hair closely and saw several things which confirmed his suspicions. As a last check, he peeled back one eyelid and stared into the eye of the man. There was a definite reddish hue to the pupil, but it was more like a large concentration of flecks on a brownish background, not a true red. Not that the Blue Cosmos fanatics around him had bothered to look too closely... no, of course not. Why look closely when you could beat a helpless and likely innocent man to death and feel much better afterwards? "I am extremely disappointed with every man and woman here." Sai said quietly, but not so quietly that the crowd could possibly miss a word.

"Why, sir?" the big man with the sledgehammer worked up the gumption to ask.

"This is no Coordinator, you idiot. When you look closely, you'll see that his hair coloration is dyed that way and that his eyes are flecked red, not pure red, something which though rare is quite within the realm of nature." Sai let out a breath and shook his head in exasperation... this was going to be a huge stink bomb when the story reached the newspaper. At least he'd managed to stop them before they killed an innocent man. He'd had no idea things were getting so tense... obviously he needed to be spending more time at the organization rallies than in the office... he couldn't let things get even further out of hand or else he'd never be able to enact his Isolation plan, which required unity of the people, not rampant paranoia and witch hunting, things which served Cervantes's goals. "You all came very close to becoming murderers today. I hope you are all aware that todays actions will have consequences... serious consequences for some of you. I can promise you that. Now... disperse and return to your homes and workplaces. You should all be very ashamed of yourselves... I certainly am. Blue Cosmos is better than this. Reflect on that." _God, its like lecturing schoolchildren. But hopefully at least a few of them will take what I said to heart... thats the best I can hope for._

"Sir, your wife is still on the line!" one of the guards called again. Sai turned, his mind reorienting... he was going to be late for dinner now. A sudden thought occured to him. _It's really the least I can do, though it doesn't even begin to recompense the poor guy for his ordeal today. Maybe I can at least mitigate the damage somewhat though._

"Just a minute! You and you, bring this man to the car and give him first aid and make sure he doesn't have any serious injuries. You and you... find the local Blue Cosmos leaders... I want the names of every person who participated in the riot on my desk before I get to work tomorrow. And you, with the phone... tell my wife to set an extra place at the table tonight... we're having a special guest for dinner." Sai ordered. he thought for a moment more. "You!" he pointed at yet another guard as men in grey suits started dashing around to follow his barked orders. "Find appropriate attire for my guest there... tell them to bill Sai Argyle." He then turned and trudged back to the limo. _I just hope Vanai is in a good mood..._

Meanwhile, about four or five miles out to sea from the small private island where the Zunnichi mansion was located, a small object bobbed up and down on the ocean swells. A few birds swooped by overhead, one even diving down to skim to an awkward stop next to the object, which was colored white with a large black section on one end. The bird could not make heads nor tails of the strange object though it did look like a very large dead fish in coloration and approximate size, so it decided to take a few quick pecks to test the waters, so to speak. It's efforts were sharply rebuffed, its hooked beak unable to find purchase in the soggy but slick hide of the object. Frustrated, the bird decided to find better, easier prey elsewhere and it turned its head in preparation for taking off again. It never knew what hit it, as one hand of the object suddenly lashed out faster than the bird could blink and crushed its neck in its fist. Having been woken by the prodding of the bird, the figure had struck out instinctively, though now he regretted the action, because of what it revealed about his subconscious. He really was just a cold, programmed killer, despite what he'd learned about himself recently. Reorienting himself in the water so that he could see better, he peered out through the fogged and half flooded helmet. The flight suit was supposed to be air tight, but during the cataclysmic events that had eventually led to him awakening in the ocean, the face shield had cracked widely, which allowed the water to slowly seep in. There was land ahead... some sort of large building, though of what sort he could not tell... though he was deisgned and built to be tougher than any human by far, eight days swimming and drifting almost nonstop through the ocean, without food, drink or sleep, had reaped its toll on him as well. That tropical storm two days back hadn't helped matters, though it had pushed him several hundred miles closer to his goal, which was to the better, even as it exhausted him. Slowly, painfully, he started to paddle towards land. He was free at last and now he found that his only option was to offer his services to another cause... how bitterly ironic.

"So, what's your name?" Vanai asked the bruised man who walked in the door behind Sai. Well, walked was perhaps putting it a little too strongly... the man staggered more than once coming up the stairs and would have fallen if not for the arm of one of the new guards thrown around his shoulder. Vanai tapped her foot on the ground ever so slightly... something Sai of course picked up on immediately and winced. She'd be having a good talk with him after dinner and after their guest left... but he supposed it was about as good a situation as he could have hoped for. She hadn't refused his guest entry, she hadn't flown into a raging fury and she hadn't locked him out, so he figured he was still ahead of the game.

"My name...?" the man replied slowly, clearly still recovering from his beating, not that Sai blamed him... he'd really been worked over by fists and feet and though there was no permanent damage he could hardly expect the man to be one hundred percent so soon. The man shook his head and seemed to gather himself. "My name is Lawrence. Lawrence Niven. Please, call me Larry."

"Pleased to meet you Larry. My name is Vanai and I see you've already met my husband Sai." Vanai replied, not mentioning their surname. She assumed Sai had informed his guest as to just who she was and she didn't feel the need to throw her superior breeding in his face... especially after the beating it had already taken. Though she knew many people regarded her as a cold hearted and spoiled bitch, she knew they were wrong. She had a compassionate side too... one she kept ruthlessly repressed most of the time, but it was there. Sai had found it, after all. It wasn't too much of a stretch for her to feel some pity for this man, set upon by his friends and neighbors over a misunderstanding and beaten unconscious... perhaps even to his death if her husband hadn't happened by. She wasn't particularly happy that Sai had invited him home for dinner, but she could recognize the ploy for what it was... a tacit apology and an attempt at political damage control. When Larry told his story to the media, as he invariably would, perhaps this dinner and the hospitality she and Sai showed him would soften his words against Blue Cosmos. It was worth a try anyway.

"Yes, I have. I owe him my life it seems. If he hadn't come along when he did I'd be taking a dirt nap right now." Larry replied, managing a slight smile. Vanai cocked her head to the side slightly... he hadn't reacted like most people. Many people immediately commented on how young she and Sai were, to be married already and with her pregnacy beginning to show, but Larry had just accepted the words without even a blink. "And now he's invited me over to this beautiful house of yours and introduced me to a gorgeous woman the likes of which I had never thought to see outside of myth. Truly, I owe your husband a debt." Vanai found herself smiling a little at the flattery... Larry plainly knew how to pay a good compliment. She appraised him once again. Without the purplish-red bruises on his face and neck, he would probably be quite handsome. He was no Sai, nor near to most of the young men she had hung out with ever since she reached puberty, but he wasn't bad looking either. He was dressed in new clothing, casual-formal wear from one of the higher priced department stores, no doubt bought by Sai to replace his bloodstained clothing... another attempt at damage control.

"Well, why don't we come in and sit down for a drink or two while we wait for the finishing touches to be made to dinner?" Sai said leadingly, guiding Larry into the foyer and then around towards the main dining area and patio.

"I'll catch up to you in a few minutes, love." Vanai told him. "Why don't you take Larry out onto the patio and have some men talk while I make the final preparations?" she continued, pitching her voice just slightly warmer, not enough that anyone who did not know her would recognize, but enough to tell Sai that she knew what he was doing and that she would do what she could to help, though he still wasn't off the hook for interrupting the original plan for the evening, which had promised to be a good deal more... intimate.

"Good idea, I could do with a little bit of air to clear my head after the events of today." Sai muttered half to himself. He noticed Larry was looking around with unconcealed interest at the richness of his surroundings... the marble and rare mahogany walls, the floor tiles made from mica and bluish granite, the original artwork on the walls, each piece worth more than a middle class family made in a year... it had awed him too at first, even growing up as a rich kid like he had. He showed Larry out through the main dining area onto the patio, with its panoramic views of the sea, with the bigger islands low greenish humps in the distance during the day. It was past dusk now, and visibility was about a half to three quarters of a mile. The sound of the sea rushing into the crash against the white sand beach always helped Sai calm down after a long day of work. Collapsing gratefully into a deck chair, he flipped up the hinged panel of one armrest to reveal an intercom. He pushed one of the three buttons, the white one. Almost instantly the precisely modulated voice of one of the butlers came on the line.

"Something I can get for you, sir?" the butler asked.

"An after work special please." Sai ordered immediately. He then turned to look at Larry, who was gogling at him in shock. Sai smiled disarmingly. "You get used to it after a while. Anything to drink?"

"Uhm... yeah. I'll take a rum and coke. Heavy on the rum... its been a rough day." Larry replied after a moments thought, gingerly lowering himself into a chair nearby.

"You get that?" Sai asked, having held down the intercom button the entire time.

"Yes, sir. One rum and coke, heavy on the rum and one vodka with cranberry juice and two limes. I'll be out in two minutes." the butler replied. Sai released the button, flipped the armrest cover back over and leaned back. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before remembering he had a guest.

"Pardon me... I don't often have people over for dinner or drinks." Sai said in apology.

"Don't worry about it." Larry replied instantly. He waited a few moments. "I never really stopped to take the time to say thank you for saving my..."

"Don't worry about it." Sai said, cutting Larry off. "I could hardly just drive by and let an innocent man get beaten to death over a misunderstanding by paranoid neighbors. It is truly a sad thing, what this war is driving people to do, even to longtime friends. I had no idea things were this bad here... I mean, everyone knows Orb is a hotbed of conflicting politics, but I had thought Hawaii to be more stable."

"You and me both." Larry said, staring out to sea, his eyes watching an oddly shaped piece of what looked like driftwood about a mile and a half out that was slowly drawing closer. He shook his head slightly and refocused on the young man who had pulled his fat... what little of it there was... out of the fire just a few hours earlier. "I mean, I knew Bruce and the guys were political activists, but I never knew just how political or how active. One moment we were all sitting in the bar, laughing and joking after a hard day doing road work and the next they're coming at me with baseball bats and broken bottles, shouting "Coordinator scum" and carrying on like a mob of raving madmen. I tell you, I was scared they were going to murder me on the spot. I mean, they'd all given me some crap about my hair and eye color before, but something about the lighting in the bar just seemed to set them off. Maybe it was cause Bruce's boy got himself killed at Carpentaria... I dunno."

"Yeah... Carpentaria was one hell of a mess." Sai acknowledged, pausing as the butler came out with the drinks and set them down between the two men. The butler bowed and half turned before looking over his shoulder at Sai.

"Lady Vanai wished me to remind you that dinner will be served in exactly fifteen minutes. She implored me to urge you not to be late." the butler said, bowed again and then left. Sai winced, just enough for Larry to notice.

"Woman trouble?" Larry asked after the butler was out of earshot.

"Let's just say that my little roadside stop wasn't factored into the game plan for tonight and Vanai never was the best at improvisation. She'll give me a solid talking to later, but don't worry about it... young though we may be, I think our bond is a lot stronger than some people twice our age." Sai answered. "You sounded like you knew what you were talking about when you said "woman trouble". You married?"

"I was." Larry looked down, the memory still searing into his heart like a nuclear fireball. "She died... a while ago. It was... during the surprise attack."

"I was in Pearl Harbor at the time too... god, what a disaster that was." Sai said sympathetically. "I was lucky... so many more were not. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, no it's all right. It was a long time ago." Larry said. He caught what he said and hurried to correct it. "I mean, the months have passed like years ever since the war has started again... even a week feels like forever ago."

"I know what you mean. This damned war... it's being fought the entirely wrong way. The people in charge of the Earth Alliance are being led around by the nose by a certifiable psychopath, bent on genocide. How they can think that any strategy formed by such a man will lead to peace beyond the peace of the mass grave is beyond me." Sai said, allowing more bitterness than he'd meant to into his voice. He studied Larry for a moment... he seemed like a bit more than just the hardworking construction worker he had alluded to being. "Are you politically active? Pardon me for asking, but I don't want to offend you by discussing a touchy topic."

"Well, I'm no rebel, but I do have a tendency to speak up for my views... which tend to run a little counter current here in the Earth Alliance..." Larry said, looking around almost furtively. "You could say I'm not happy with the way the war is being run either."

"Glad to hear it." Sai said happily. "If more people thought like you did then I would feel a great deal more confident in the future."

"More people do think like I do... they just all happen to live in Orb, which is under martial law right now." Larry said, with a grin bare of humor. "A bunch of them live up in space too, if you know what I mean."

"Let me be frank with you, Larry." Sai sipped his drink and leaned forward. "I'm a member of Blue Cosmos... an influential member I'd like to think. But I'm not like those goons who tried to kill you on the beach today. I don't hate Coordinators as a people. Theres a few of them I wouldn't mind throwing off a tall cliff, mind you, but overall, I like Coordinators. I admire them and their achievments and I respect them for holding as true to their ideals as they have during this chaotic war. Hows that for counter current?"

Larry took his time in answering... his first impulse had been to bolt and run the moment the Blue Cosmos name hit the air... but then he'd sized up Sai again. He was just a guy... a kid of about nineteen with more maturity and wisdom than any of the guys Larry had worked with ever since he came to Hawaii, shortly after his wife died. And while Larry might have tested the political waters with his words, Sai had just thrown himself directly into the pool and bared his breast to him, politically speaking. "I'd say that you aren't the only person on this patio with those opinions, Sai." _I can think of a few Coordinators that could do with some cliff diving... Elsman... Jule... Zala... Waltfeld... the bloody traitors._ "Then tell me... if you were in charge, how would you change things?"

"First thing I'd do is call a cease fire. Both sides need that... ZAFT and the EA need a few weeks of being able to sit back without looking over their shoulders for hidden dangers if peace is ever to be given a chance." Sai said immediately. "During this cease fire I would send an ultimatum to the PLANTS. Its simple... leave Earth or be forced off. I would offer to pay for Coordinators to leave Earth and return to the plants, all Coordinators, everywhere. I don't want Coordinators on Earth, I think these last few wars have proven that we cannot coexist... the existence of Blue Cosmos is further proof, as if anyone needed it. Coordinators belong in space, Naturals belong on the Earth and Moon. It's simple. The only way to ensure lasting peace is to utterly Isolate one side from the other... like sending children to two seperate time outs in seperate rooms. I don't expect the PLANTS to bend to the ultimatum, it would seem to them too much like surrender. But at least I hope to have evacuated as many of the remaining civilian Coordinators as possible... I don't want any more massacres like Carpentaria. I would then gather my forces into a centralized, well organized and supplied military force, and use this hammer to slowly push the Coordinators off Earth... with as few casualties on either side as possible. It will require an entire reshaping of the organization and tactics used by the EA, but it is a necessary change I believe."

"Say you could push ZAFT off Earth. What then?" Larry asked speculatively. _This is new... not once did he mention using WMDs, even though they would be the simplest way of ensuring victory on Earth. Is he really part of Blue Cosmos? And just how "influential" is he? He certainly seems to be rather rich._

"Pushing ZAFT off Earth is the easy part." Sai admitted. "Next I would build massive defensive fortifications and weapons, both on Earth and in Earth orbit... a sort of modern Great Wall, if you will. It will be expensive and the temptation to use the weapons for offense will be great, but with ethical and moral world leaders on both sides I believe those temptations can be overcome. Space will be divided up into strict Natural or Coordinator zones... no contact will be allowed between the two peoples. Any attempt by a Natural to enter a Coordinator zone or vice versa will be met with firm warnings followed by immediate and deadly force. There will be no messages... no trade... no emmigration or immigration. We will be seperate... because that is the only way to perserve peace. By Isolation." Sai said proudly. "Thats a rough outline of my strategy, but I think it's feasible, don't you?"

"It seems to rely a lot on the ethics and morality of the world leaders... maybe the PLANT council would work well with it, but what about the EA leaders? I can't see them going along with this plan. And how do you plan to implement this Isolation of yours? You talked of it like it was a forgone conclusion. Do you know something I don't about the EA political climate?" Larry asked. _Trading one madman for another... no trade, no messages or contact... how can he possibly consider that feasible in modern day society? The only reason the PLANTS were built at all was to make in space what the nations of Earth did not have the resources to make on Earth... they were never designed to be a seperate nation, totally self sufficient. We may have taken many steps towards self sufficiency, but to be completely alone, with no trade... we couldn't survive that... it would be a death sentence, a slow, choking, agonizing death but a death nonetheless._

"Let's just say that Blue Cosmos has a great deal more influence on the way the EA runs than most people want to believe... and that Blue Cosmos is not nearly the united organization outsiders think it is." Sai said with a small smile of satisfaction. "My father in law's days of genocidal war are numbered... in a few months I will have garned the political support I need to oust him and his cronies from their positions as driving forces of this war. It should not take more than a year past that for the Isolation to go into full effect."

"Your father in law...?" Larry trailed off, a vise tightening around his heart. His hand casually slipped into the pocket of his new pants and felt through his wallet until he found the credit card he was looking for. Except it wasn't just a credit card, but a very highly advanced form of knife, almost undetectable by even the most advanced PLANT security systems. And he wasn't on the PLANTS anymore. "Just who are you exactly?"

Sai looked puzzled. "I thought you knew... oh, you must have already been unconscious by then. My pardon. My name is Sai Zunnichi. My wife is Vanai Zunnichi. My rather embarassing father in law is Cervantes Zunnichi, who as you probably know is the president of Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers...though you probably did not know... and please don't spread this about... but he is also the leader of Blue Cosmos."

_Out of the frying pan, into the FIRE!_ Larry jerked slightly. Of course his name wasn't Lawrence Niven... who was actually a science fiction writer from centuries ago... a little known one in modern society, which is why he'd chosen the name as his cover. No, his name was Henri Burton and he was what was commonly referred to as a spy. He'd served in the mobile suit core during the last war, eventually working his way up to becoming one of the elite red coats after he personally killed five Strike Daggers during the battle of Jachin Due. He'd joined the military because of the tragedy at Junius Seven, which had claimed the life of his wife Magdelene, along with their daughter Lily. After the last war he'd found he no longer had a taste for mobile suit combat and had found himself diverted into intelligence, eventually ending up sent to Hawaii as a deep cover agent assigned to watch the fleet activities at Pearl Harbor. Ever since the insane nuclear devastation of the city, he'd been on high alert and the strain had started to get to him... as evidenced by the sloppy dye job he had done on his blue-white hair the night before and the badly maintained brown contacts which had allowed his natural eye color to seep almost entirely through. It was sloppiness that had turned Bruce and the others on to him... not accident. He'd thought he was a goner, but then found himself saved... by the very unlikliest of people, he had just learned. This was truly an opportunity... ZAFT had been after the people behind the EA leadership ever since the attack on Junius Six... now he finally knew who they were... and better yet, had at least two of them at his mercy.

"What's the matter? You seem distraught?" Sai asked, concerned by how his guest had seemed to jerk away from him and was no watching him very warily. Larry shook himself slightly and a wide grin slowly climbed across his face.

"It's nothing. Sorry to worry you... just my bruises acting up a bit. Hey, could you do me a favor and call those guys that gave me first aid over? I'd really like to thank them too... this stuff the gave me, its really helped get rid of the pain. Oh... but could you help me walk... I don't know how steady I am... that rum went right to my head, I think." Larry said, still fingering the credit card-knife... all it would take was a flick of his fingers and he'd have a two inch laser sharpened blade in his hands.

"No problem. Why don't we head inside anyway. I'll call the guards responisble over and then we can talk with Vanai a little bit before dinner." Sai said comfortingly, standing up and then helping Larry gingerly to his feet, slipping one arm over the taller man's shoulders and letting Larry put one arm over his. Larry kept the other hand in his pocket and they limped slowly into the dining room. Sai hit the intercomm on one wall as they entered and requested that the guards who had rendered first aid to Larry come to the dining hall. Within twenty seconds both men had appeared... they looked at Larry warily but saw nothing more than a bruised and slightly lame man with a big smile on his face slowly limping over to them one hand outstretched, the other in his pocket. They had of course searched him while rendering first aid and had found no weapons on his body or in his clothes, so they were relaxed. One even held out his hand to shake Larry's. It would be the first and last major mistake of the man's career.

Henri gripped the man's hand tightly, applying a good deal of pressure. He shook up and down once... then yanked the man towards him with all his strength. Relaxed and unwary, the man was easily pulled off balance, stumbling forward. henri whipped his hand out of his pocket, his fingers flicking the blade of the concealed knife out of its sheath and slicing it into the Natural's jugular. He ducked under the crimson spray and kicked the dying man into his surprised friend, bringing the knife back around and darting forward to bury it in the heart of the second guard. As both dead men dropped to the floor Henri went low and scrabbled at their jackets, finding the 9mm pistols exactly where he expected them to be, in underarm holsters. He yanked the fully loaded weapons out, dropping his knife to the floor in favor of the deadlier weapons. Barely four seconds had elapsed and Henri was already spinning back towards Sai and Vanai, who had been talking in tones too low for him to hear in the doorway to the kitchen. They were now staring at him with aghast expressions on their faces... Henri could not help but chuckle a little.

"If I were in Blue Cosmos, this would be where I shouted "For the Preservation of our Blue and Pure World!"." Henri said with savage amusement. "Though given my present company I guess that phrase might be a little redundant."

"What the hell are you doing, Larry? What is this?" Sai protested, shocked by the sudden inexplicable violence.

"My name is not Larry. My name is Henri Burton. I am a Coordinator, a red elite and a spy for ZAFT. That mob on the beach had it right, but you saved me anyway. I suppose I should be grateful." Henri replied grimly, pointing one gun at either of them.

"But why? Weren't you listening to me, outside? I'm trying to stop this war too? Why would you threaten me?" Sai asked, reeling mentally. The mob had been right, Larry... Henri... was a Coordinator. And not only that but a self confessed spy too. And Sai had been stupid enough to bring the man into his own house, stupid enough to share his top secret political plans with him and stupid enough to trust his new guard service to take care of him. Sai tried to imagine the Hellhounds falling for a deception like this and could not envision it.

"Those ravings? If you truly believe those to be the solution to peace, you are as deluded as your father in law. I cannot allow either of you to continue to poison the world with your lives. Sadly, Cervantes Zunnichi is beyond my reach. You, however, are not!" Henri opened fire just a half second too late, Sai had seen what was coming and pulled himself and Vanai into the kitchen and behind the wall, out of the line of fire. Three bullets chewed their way into the kitchen cabinets on the far side of the room before Henri controlled his fire and ran forward, cursing. Sai scrabbled frantically for one of the multiple alarms scattered throughout each room of the house, but didn't need it... alerted by the sound of gunfire, the remaining nine members of the security detail came charging in, guns in their hands and eyes scanning for danger. They were among the best in the civilian world as bodyguards. But compared to a revenge driven ZAFT red coat they were just so many moving grey targets. Henri pounced onto a table and flipped head over heels over the initial shots fired at him, landing in a crouch and firing once with each gun, blowing out the throat of one man and putting a fat red hole in the temple of another. Not pausing for an instant he tossed himself into a lateral roll, bullets chewing up the floor behind him.

Rolling behind a couch, Henri stopped himself with an outstretched knee and kipped himself to a kneeling position, just high enough to shoot another guard once in the thigh and again through the heart before ducking back down as return fire blew couch stuffing all over the place. Still keeping his momentum going Henri feinted left and then rolled right back out along his original incoming path, shooting two guards in the ankles and groins, then firing again to kill in the upper torso. Four guards were left and Henri still had eight and nine shots left in his guns, respectively. He would not need them all. He was out in the open, almost equidistant between each of the four remaining guards, who were all ducking behind cover of their own before shooting at him. Henri jumped high to see over a couch, putting three bullets from his left gun into the man crouching behind its head and shoulders. On the way down he was grazed along his right arm by a shot and he retaliated by using his right hand gun to blow the offending guard backwards and out through the glass windows to the patio with four rapid shots. Two left and still plenty of ammo. The guards made a rush for him, hoping to get in under his range and take him down to the ground. They moved so slow it was almost funny. He stopped one with the remaining six shots in the left gun, excessive but satisfying as the man's entire chest was soaked red and gory as he flopped bonelessly to the floor. The man's partner actually managed to close the range, diving low under the four bullets from the right gun. The guard brought his gun up as Henri's pistols clicked back empty.

Henri kicked the gun from the man's hand, breaking the lower arm bone with one swift motion before leaning down and jabbing the man first in the eyes and then in the throat, blinding him and crushing his windpipe. Henri calmly looted two more pistols from the fallen and left the guard on the ground to strangle painfully to death... no less than a man who would guard such filth deserved. "There is no need to prolong your death, Sai. You cannot beat me. I am a Coordinator and you are just a Natural." Henri called into the kitchen.

"A good friend of mine... a former friend... had an answer for bullshit like that!" Sai replied, having used the time his guards bought him to draw out Cyprus's pistol from its drawer, much to Vanai's amazement. "People are not defined by their abilities alone"... thats what he said. And you, know, it really rings true." Sai took up the unfamiliar weight of the gun and sighted in on the doorway. "A Coordinator you may be, but if you think I'm going down without a fight, your as crazy as you think I am. Especially with my wife and soon to be child here with me. You know what it's like to lose your wife... how can you expect me not to fight back?"

On the beach outside, a figure in white with a black helmet slowly staggered forward. He'd finally made it to dry land and it was taking his legs a while to remember how to walk properly. After a few steps he jerked the helmet off and cast it aside, letting the water finally drain away from his chin and neck, revealing damp curly red hair and haunted green eyes to any observer who might be around. There didn't seem to be any though... everyone must be inside the palatial house just up the beach a bit. He took another wobbly step forward before half collapsing on his knees. He needed to find food and drink and rest soon or even he would give out. His previous tests had been brutal but he was still pretty damned sure that no one had designed him to swim across half the fucking pacific ocean in eight days, even stormtossed as he had been. Assuming he ever saw anyone in charge of the BCPU project again, he'd have to recommend it to them... it was sure to really weed the strong out from the weak. He was still half awake, just about to fall forward in exhaustion, when the sound of gunfire reached his still sensitive ears. Repeated gunshots were coming from the house... medium caliber handgun from the sound of it. Great, he'd been thrown out of one life or death battle, crossed half a freaking ocean and managed to fall into another life or death battle as soon as he hit dry land. He seriously contemplated throwing himself back into the water, where at least he would know peace. But the momentary insanity passed and he forced himself upright and into a shambling run towards the house. If he'd navigated right, then this was the location of the person he desperately needed to talk to... and he couldn't let that person die before he talked to them.

Henri walked slowly towards the doorway before suddenly diving through low, into a forward roll. A good thing he did too, because two bullets crashed by just over his head, tearing huge gouges out of the far wall of the dining area. Turning the roll into a front flip Henri assessed the situation. Target primary, Sai, was half crouched behind the island in the middle of the kitchen, large hangun in hand, trying to track him. Target secondary, Vanai, was cowering under the kitchen table a few meters behind Sai. _I do know how it feels to lose a wife and child. I think it's time you learned how that felt too, Mr. Zunnichi._ He took careful aim and fired with his left hand gun, but Vanai ruined the shot by jerking away as sson as she saw where his gun was pointing. Instead of taking her through the heart the bullet entered the meat of her shoulder and broke her collar bone before exiting in a spray of flesh and blood to ricochet off the floor and bounce away. Henri frowned and fired several more times, blowing chunks out of the table but unable to penetrate the thick wood to hit the soft flesh underneath.

"BASTARD!" Sai roared, standing fully upright and blasting away with the hand gun, the recoil making him wildly inaccurate. None of his shots passed within a hands breath of henri, though they did a great job of tearing up the kitchen around him. Henri took his time in aiming before shooting Sai in the top of his right thigh, not breaking the bone but causing a serious flesh wound and sending him screaming to the floor.

"Ooh... nasty. Leg wounds hurt a lot." Henri said without much sympathy as he stepped forward, putting one foot down on Sai's outstretched hand with a crunch before kicking the gun out of the now unresisting palm. "And a broken wrist too... my you certainly are racking up quite the injury list. Let me ease your suffering though... this won't hurt at all." Henri took careful aim at Sai's forehead. Before he could take the shot though a person unexpectedly ran into him and knocked him back against the cabinets. vanai had rushed forward, ignoring her own wound to tackle Henri around the waist, driving him back from Sai. "Touching but fruitless!" Henri gritted as his back spasmed suddenly. He ignored it and drove an elbow into the top of Vanai's head, stunning her. He then used a knee, square to her stomach to kick her away.

"The... bab...y!" she gasped, horrified but still stunned.

"A monster child anyway." Henri told her, now pointing his guns at her. He still did not get to fire. This time though, the cause was a little more distressing. Namely the fact that his entire body from the neck down suddenly went numb... because a short man with damp curly red hair and green eyes, clad in a white flight suit that looked positively waterlogged... had picked up the credit card-knife and thrown it into the back of Henri's neck, easily piercing the vertebrae and severing the spinal cord. "What?" Henri choked, unable to move. "Where..."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, space monster." the short man in the white flight suit said blearily. He still retained enough control to take a few halting steps forward and crush Henri's skull against the wall before he passed out though. As he hit the floor the man managed one last sentence. "I'm here to serve the cause of peace and Isolation, Mr. Argyle... name is Ashino..."

Author Note: If you like my writing, I'd also recommend you try out some of Rihaku's stories. If anything I think his SEED fanfics are more creative than mine in a lot of ways and he certainly writes the charatcers very well. He's written three so far and they are all very good. Please read and review those as well, after you read and review mine.


	71. The Night Before

Author Note: After a lot of thinking and some estimation, I've figured about how much longer this story is going to be. It should end at around chapter 110-125 or so, just so those of you who care... if there are any... have some idea about how much more there is to come. As of this chapter this story is now the longest fanfic in Gundam SEED on Thanks for all the reviews, they are very helpful... please give me more and more. The more reviews I get the faster I will write and update and the more requests for things I get the more I can accomodate them into the story.

Cervantes was in a black mood. Everything had been going so well up until Carpentaria... he had been on the fast track to heaven. Now he felt like he was slipping backwards towards hell with every passing hour. His successes were numerous... the trap at Gibralter, the conquest of Orb just the most prominent. But his failures were even more glaring... JIHAD, Carpentaria and now Orb. Where formerly the citizens had cheered him and the EA in the streets now they spat after speaking his name and painted anti Alliance slogans on buildings and protested in the streets against the lawshe had set down. His paid puppets in the four remaining Orb royal families did what they could to shore up his faltering image in the eyes of the people, but they were largely marginalized and ignored by a populace that was apparently tired of supporting a war they had tried to sit out. His lip curled in contempt. He'd crushed that little dream of theirs right off the bat, with his heavy conscription policies and several new taxes to help raise funds. In truth he may have gone a little harder on the people of Orb than he might have somewhere else, since he'd always loathed the wishy-washy peaceful ideals of the nation, but really, were their sacrifices any more than that of the Eurasians or Atlantic Federation? Cervantes doubted it strongly. And so he could just not comprehend why the people of Orb were being so rebellious, staging impromptu marches through the streets and holding mass sit ins at industrial facilities that slowed much needed supplies being sent to the troops recuperating in Orb after retreating from Carpentaria. His scowl deepened. The troops themselves were a sorry lot... morale low, many wounded, sullen and uncooperative... they were more a hindrance to him than a help.

Which is why, two days prior, he had ordered Asmodeus to gather the Hellhounds. All four teams of the unit. He'd even recalled the alpha team, which had formerly had the duty of watching over his son in law and precious daughter. They would be safe enough under the corporate guards he had sent to replace the Hellhounds until this crisis in Orb was dealt with properly. And a crisis it most certainly was. He did not know exactly when, but sometime within the next week a truly massive peace protest was due to occur. He had sent out orders to shut down the airports, but it had been to little avail... the people came instead in droves aboard various passenger and even cargo ships. Tens of thousands then hundreds of thousands of protesters from all over the world. All utterly nonviolent and too well covered by the media for him to take the measures he would have required to contain the problem. But now that his special forces were gathered, now that his sword was ready, he could finally take action to stop this beast in its tracks before it irrepairably gored his hold over the nation of Orb. His scowl inverted to form a wicked smile and he picked up his cane with a flourish and spun it easily through his hands. Setting it down with a sharp snap he opened the door to his office in the Orb National Palace and strode briskly outside, to the inner courtyard. He took pleasure in setting up his offices in the exact same places the old Lord Uzumi Nara Attha had... what was good enough for one great leader would do for him as well... for the moment. The courtyard was screened from all forms of outside observation barring that from satellites, which had all been shot down long ago.

There were none of the usual Orb ceremonial guardsmen and women standing at attention every few meters, like every other day. All Orbites had been directed to other stations for the next few hours, while Cervantes reviewed and briefed his avenging swords. As Cervantes left the columned open walkway and stepped into the grassy park that was the courtyard, Asmodeus stepped around from behind a bush and fell in at his bosses side. Ahead of them stood the Hellhounds. Fifty two of the deadliest men and a few women on the planet. Well, Natural men anyway. His grin soured for a moment... that thought had brought up yet another failing. The Bane had been destroyed during the fracas in Panama eight days earlier and yet another BCPU training facility had gone up in smoke with it. They had found no trace of Ashino, save a few charred scraps of clothing in the cockpit, which was unsurprising, considering the nature of the Bane's destruction and the subsequent inferno that had burned around it for nearly a full day. A full third of the BCPU force lost for good, with a second third being still hospitalized while the Merciless was rebuilt practically from the ground up...he gritted his teeth, imagining the smug grins on the faces of his competitors and that worm of a president of the AF. All it would take was another failure on his part and he knew they would tear himapart like a pack of wolves, never mind that he was their single best hope for winning the war.

As he and Asmodeus approached the Hellhounds snapped to brisk attention, eyes forward, faces grim and bodies perfectly still. Though in ranks, they still managed to somehow segregate themselves by squad. The Alpha's and Bravo's were in the first rank, the Alpha's closer to Cervantes, while Charlie and Delta repeated the pattern in the row behind. They were all already armed and armored, ready to go at a moments notice... not that he had expected anything less. They were the best, each a culmination of millions of dollars of training and at least a decade of experience in either military or paramilitary conflict. "Isn't it a sight, Asmodeus?" Cervantes said with a savage grin.

Asmodeus did not immediately respond. Personally he was starting to think his boss was becoming slightly unhinged by recent events... his orders and habits had begun growing steadily more irrational ever since Carpentaria. Instead of keeping in the public eye, preaching to the msses and keeping his hand in every possible pie, of late Cervantes had been secluding himself with at most one or two advisers, almost always among the most die hard of the fanatical Blue Cosmos stripe. He never answered his phone, never opened his door and was generally almost impossible to get a hold of. An urgent call had come in for Cervantes from Hawaii only thirty minutes prior, coded his eyes only... but Asmodeus knew better than to bring it up now, while his boss was savoring what he thought were triumphs to come. Asmodeus knew better... you couldn't stop a peace protest with violence... it would only come back twice as strong as before. But he wasn't the man in charge. "It is a sight, sir." Asmodeus agreed at last. _A sight I should not be seeing, but a sight it is. It is folly to gather all four squads in one place... one squad would do just fine. Four is overkill... the act of a desperate man. Just how desperate is he, anyway?_

"You all know why you have been ordered here!?" Cervantes asked loudly. The Hellhounds recognized a rhetorical question when they heard one... many of them shared Asmodeus's worried opinion of their bosses boss... no one liked the idea of serving the orders of a potential madman. But for now they were still the best soldiers in Blue Cosmos and Cervantes was still the master of Blue Cosmos, so they paid close attention to his words. "Our enemies... our treacherous enemies have concocted a heinous plan to topple our regime here in Orb, several destabilizing the ability of the EA to maintain control over the Pacific Theater of this war. Our enemies are clever... they do not strike in the accepted fashion, with sabotage and rebellion. No, they cloak their posion in the guise of peaceful protest... and they think their lies will protect them from our righteous wrath. You are all here to prove them wrong, wrong, WRONG!" Cervantes smiled coldly and his eyes shone with both intent and a little insanity. "You will utilize your skills and training to hunt them down, one by one if necessary, and eliminate them before they can go through with their plans. I have complete confidence in your abilities. Asmodeus will continue the brief, I have other matters to attend to." Cervantes nodded once in acknowledgement of their salutes and then headed back to his office, for another strategy session on how to continue the war.

After cervantes had returned to his office there was a long period of silence... as long as two or three minutes, which Asmodeus spent meeting the gaze of each individual Hellhound, reinforcing his will on them. Few could meet his gaze for long and only one outstared him. That one was bothersome, since it had never happened before, but Asmodeus supposed it must just be that he was getting tired faster in his old age. He forced himself to look back at Lieutenant Finch for a moment before continuing the brief. "Despite what you may be thinking, the strategy espoused by Mr. Zunnichi does have its merits. A series of quick, surgical strikes to remove the leadership of the peace protests could very well halt this movement in its tracks... at least temporarily. We all know that violence will have no permanent effect on this protest, unless we are determined to kill all ten million people who are supposed to attend. I think that might tax even our abilities though." Asmodeus said with a slight grin to show he was joking. No one laughed... in retrospect it wasn't that funny."

"So what exactly are we doing, sir?" asked a trooper from Delta squad. "We were told to arrive with full kit and equipment, but we've yet to be given more than a general idea of what we're going to be doing."

"That is why I am here, corporal." Asmodeus said, reaching behind another bush to move an easel and bench into view of the soldiers. He sat down on the bench as the Hellhounds gathered around him, sitting, kneeling, lounging or standing as they preferred. He picked up a thick sheaf of papers and a corkboard from underneath the bush and started tacking papers to the corkboard, which he mounted on the easel. An electronic presentation would have been faster, but he liked conducting his briefings in a very personal manner, he felt it helped the troops remember better. "Like I said before, the missions will be surgical strikes, single or at most small group elimination runs. Every mission is of course quite black rated and you will never speak of them again after you complete them. The EA has a reputation for being ruthless... and we are going to exemplify that reputation for as long as it takes to get Mr. Zunnichi's point across to the protesters. We will be going in hard and heavy, no mercy, no second chances, no mistakes. Shoot to kill in all cases... I don't care if its a toddler, if it makes a potentially threatening move, give it a double tap. Is that understood?" Fifty one nods and a cold stare answered him.

"So we are not to consider civilian casualties during these missions?" a sergeant from Charlie squad asked dryly.

"There are no civilians during these missions." Asmodeus replied flatly. "Unless they are lying flat on the ground with their hands behind their heads they are a potential threat and must be dealt with as such."

"And how will we be deployed?" the sergeant asked, taking notes on a small notebook.

"Each squad will be assigned an area, perhaps as big as an entire city. You will be furnished with names, descriptions and locations of potential protest leaders. It is your responsibiity to eliminate them as quickly and efficiently as possible. You will have the cooperation of local military police and civilian police forces,though they are not to be informed any more than absolutely necessary,as we strongly suspect both groups to have been heavily infiltrated by peace supporters. You already all know you have permanent tacit permission to shoot to kill without probable cause. These people are the enemy. They chose to break the laws and they will be punished for it. Any more questions?"

"Collateral damage?" Sgt-Major Glory asked with a raised brow... he hadn't liked much of what he'd heard... the Hellhounds were being used like underworld thugs, not professional soldiers.

"Minimal if possible, but if you have to take out a building or two to get results, I don't think Cervantes will complain."

"I don't anticipate the need, but... backup?" a soldier from Bravo team asked.

"You want it, you'll get it. Artillery, armor, airstrikes, Mobile Suits... if you feel the need, you'll get any support you ask for."

"Loadouts?" the sergeant from Charlie asked.

"Full assault/tactical. That means body armor, full face shields, goggles... the works. Heavy weapons are green light. Explosives are green light. You have carte blanche for requistioning gear. You want nerve gas, you get nerve gas. You want bio-warfare, you get bio-warfare. This is no holds barred and we mean it. Don't feel like you need to conserve ammo either... we're trying to send a message here after all."

"What about preparedness of the opposition?" Glory asked... unable to quite work up the nerve to call the targets "enemies".

"I cannot imagine they know that we are sending the Hellhounds after them. Many of them are likely cautious, but they are watching for police or SWAT type actions... they won't be prepared for your teams. Some of them may be armed, but this is supposed to be a peace protest... the likelihood of strong resistance is extremely remote."

"Organization?" the Lieutenant asked. Asmodeus thought for a moment... it was rare for Cyprus to ask a question during a briefing.

"Cells, usually not bigger than ten or twelve people who really know whats up. They have strong communications, so you will have to be fast or else they will start spreading the word. It is inevitable of course, but we'd like as much shock time as possible. There are only a few main leaders that we know about, most prominently Ledonir Kisaka, whos whereabouts we are unsure of, and Dr. Erica Simmons, whom we believe with 95 percent likelihood to be somwhere in Orb. Dr. Simmons, if located, is an exception to the rule... take her alive if at all possible. Her technical knowledge of the Morganroete facilities and the Orb Mobile Suit program is beyond compare. I don't think I need to remind you that if you encounter Kisaka you must kill him as fast as possible. As you all know, he was given the opportunity to join the Hellhounds back at the inception, but he refused. Of your opponents he would be the only one that has any idea of what you are capable of."

"And TEMPEST?" Cyprus pushed, citing the name of the band of operatives that had proven to be such a major pain all throughout the war.

"Reports place them aboard the Archangel, along with the rest of those meddlesome bastards. They're somewhere in the Pacific, but there is no way the Archangel could approach Orb without being spotted and they, for all their skills, cannot get through the air or seaport security that is currently in effect. We've gone so far as to institute genetic identification protocols. If there are no further questions, here are your assigned areas. Report back to me once you have worked out a mission plan for the next few days. Good hunting. You shall not need luck."

If Asmodeus had been able to see where the Archangel currently was, he probably would have left the briefing a good deal less confident than he did. It was an extremely obscure fact but a fact nonetheless that the Archangel was actually capable of submarine movement, as was the Kusangi. In a way it made sense, since if a ship was atmosphere tight enough to survive in space, being watertight was not even a problem. But the Archangel and Kusanagi had actually been designed for long term submersible use... the Archangel could survive depths of up to five hundred feet, while the Kusanagi could go twice as deep... an extra ace up the sleeve of the Orb military. The fact of this design was so obscure not even the crew of either ship had known of it until the ballast tanks were accidentally filled during the Archangel's weathering of the hurricane after the pilots had set off to rescue Ysak. What had started out as an attempt to stabilize the ship in the howling winds and crashing waves had inadvertantly sent the ship gently to the bottom one hundred feet below. Initially there had been much panic and ill feeling amongst the crew but once it was discovered that not only was the ship watertight but bearing up perfectly fine under the water pressure panic was replaced with elation at this unplanned for advantage, especially when the crew figured out how to pump the tanks full of air and return the ship to the surface.

Elation had lasted only as long as it took for the mobile suits to return. There were few smiling faces aboard either ship when the Grand Buster finally came into view, helping the almost destroyed Duelist limp along. The Grand Buster was missing an arm and was severely battle scarred. The Duelist was a flying junkheap. Just about the only mobile suit to escape unscarred was the Liberty. Moods lifted somewhat when it was learned that Ysak, though wounded and battered, was still alive, if in a pitiable condition. Miriallia had woken up as well, during the flight and it would later be discovered that she had come within a hairsbreadth of cracking her skull, but had instead just received a fairly serious concussion that had her seeing double for several days afterwards. The news of the destruction of one of the BCPU's was greeted with a few restrained cheers and much slapping of the back for Cagalli, who was proven to have fired the killing shots by her battlefield logs. One down, two to go was the rallying cry for the moment. The boost to morale now that the ship's crews were complete once more was significant.

Not everything was rosy though. Ysak, though having worked off a great deal of the burden of guilt and rage he had felt, was still withdrawn and uncommunicative much of the time, his thoughts turned inwards towards what even he was beginning to see as a childish folly. He had been so arrogant, so confident that he could confront and defeat his foes, just because of how he felt. And while emotions were a power source, he could not deny that, they were also a danger, making him far more reckless than he usually was. He should have died in Panama and he knew it. If it hadn't been for insane risks on the part of his friends for his sake, it would have been the Three Ship Allaince that was down a pilot, not Blue Cosmos. He supposed he should feel touched, but he just felt empty. Chanel was still dead... Cray and Asmodeus were still alive. Precious little had changed, though he had learned a hard lesson... again. No single man is enough to make a difference in war, no matter how powerful he is. It is only when powerful people got together and worked as a whole that things got done. Could Cagalli have killed Ashino by herself? Likely not. But after Athrun had rendered him vulnerable, Cagalli was able to capitalize on the moment and make her shots count. And so, much to his private disgruntlement it was now a Natural who could claim unadulterated credit for having removed a serious obstacle to peace... a feat every other Coordinator around had been singularly unable to do.

It was not known aboard the ships just what went on between him and Katie after he got back. She pulled him aside into a room before even the medics could get to him and did not let him out for at least ten minutes, ignoring all calls from everyone who tried to open the door. All that people could observe was that Ysak came out of that room even paler than his wounds and traumatic experience could account for... plainly he had seen something that scared him. He clammed up about it though, so tightly that not even Dearka could trick details out of him in the hospital room they shared while recuperating. It was widely assumed that Katie had given him an ultimatum, which was true enough. What Ysak would never bear to admit to anyone else was just how Katie had brought her point across. He just knew that he was never, ever going to make her get that mad and worried at him again. Because he really didn't think his mind could take that kind of punishment.

Added into his misery was the punishment handed down from Kisaka, Waltfeld and Murrue. Though they had no military authority over any of the pilots, they were the three people in charge and the crew acknowledged them as the people in charge without any complaints. They didn't court martial him for endangering the ship and valuable equipment, which is what he had done, it was more a up close and personal reminder that if he did anything so reckless again then he would probably find himself marooned on a small island until he grew up enough to handle the responsibility of a mobile suit. At least he could take some comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one to get a talking to about recklessness. He saw Kisaka pull Cagalli and even Athrun aside for a few minutes after his meeting and Lacus had an uncommonly steely look in her eyes as she led Kira off the bridge for a brief time. Just about the only people that didn't get formally yelled at were Dearka and Miriallia, though they did get the same punishment as everyone else... confinement to quarters for two days. Which wasn't precisely a punishment, given how the couples were bunked.

All that aside, things were actually starting to tilt in their favor, on the wider scale. The Alliance was still reeling from Carpentaria and had lost much strength at Panama as well, putting them solidly on the defensive. Meanwhile, the PLANTS were doing their best to reconsolidate and refurbish their own forces after Carpentaria. They would be launching no major offensives for the next few weeks while they completed the upgrading of their forces from the GINN's, DINN's, Guaize's, ZuOots, Goons and ZnO's to the newer and better Elementals. ZAFT was also purportedly sinking a great deal of funding into constructing a static anti missile defense system around the home PLANTS to defend against any sort of future sneak attack, though the details on this project remained extremely cloudy. It looked like they had unwittingly accomplished their first goal... both sides had stopped fighting. Now they just had to keep up the pressure. And as luck... and perhaps extraordinary planning... would have it, a massive peace protest was due to kick itself off in Orb within the next two weeks. That announcement had come eight days ago and they had just receievd final confirmation from the protest leaders that the so called "Ten Million Man March for Peace" was slated for six days later. Already Orb was filled to bursting at the seams with the influx of people who had come to either participate in or watch what promised to be the public political spectacle of the decade.

It was well known that the EA officials in charge of governing the Orb Protectorate were far from pleased with the idea of this protest march, but there was little they could do, since the protesters were entirely nonviolent and the planners had taken into account every nuance of Orb law, ensuring the oppressive regime would have no legal grounds to break up the protest. Still, there were many minds in the upper echelons of the peace movement who did not trust the EA government to act within the law on this matter and so extra cautionary procedures were taken. All leadership personnel who had anything to do with the protest planning and execution were moved to safe houses by three days before the start of the protest. It was almost a measure taken too late. Almost a fourth of the planners never showed up, their bodies never found, though the bloodstained and bullet riddled rooms of their houses said much about their likelihood of ever being seen again. There was panic at first, but it quickly smouldered into iron hard resolve. This just confirmed what they had already suspected. The enemy had thrown the rulebook completely out the window and was using its influence with the authorities to cover it up. The peace protesters did not go public with the information... it would just be denied and turned back on them as propaganda mongering. Instead they distributed leaflets and photobooks depicting the incidents in a private, intimate fashion. It had the same effect as pouring growth hormones into a vat of bacteria. Almost overnight the number of participants in the planned march had doubled and everyone moved with an entirely new sense of purpose. They were in the right and this proved it.

Aboard the Archangel, Lacus Clyne made preparations for her first public concert in more than a year. It wasn't something even most of the protest planners knew about, but she was going to give a concert at the end of the march. The march itself was planned to start at the beaches before making its way slowly through the city and suburbs and then finally ending up in front of the Orb parliament house in the middle of the government sector. Initially they had rented several concert halls for various bands who had pledged to come, but the government revoked all the reservations as soon as they got wind of it. The citizens retaliated by breaking the locks put on the doors of the theaters as fast as they were put up, but the government played a trump card and put all theaters in the city under constant military guard. To counter that wildly unpopular move, the peace protesters planned to just carry all of the sound equipment, speakers, amps and microphones... with them as they marched. This fit well with Lacus's plan, since it would seriously hamper the ability of Blue Cosmos to have an ambush site prepared for her. Not that she would be unprotected... the Archangel had sailed into Orb territorial waters by the fourth day before the protest, weaving around the underwater detection system with ease due to Kisaka's familiarity with the system and the passcode program. Kira would be marching with her, as would Athrun, Cagalli and every member of TEMPEST, plus Kisaka, Waltfeld, Murrue and several members of the crew. Some questioned the wisdom of having the entire command staff on the frontlines, as it were, but none of them were going to miss out on this event, not for anything.

Dearka, Miriallia, and Ysak would remain aboard the Archangel, ready to deploy in their feverishly repaired mobile suits in case heavy support was needed, while Katie took over temporary control as communications officer on the Archangel. It was not anticipated that the EA would use mobile suits as crowd control, since they were singularly unsuited to the task, but with Cervantes Zunnichi a confirmed presence in Orb, no one was making any safe bets anymore. Though if the peace protest went off as planned, Cervantes would not be in the country for long. One of their main demands was his removal from the nation, to be followed by prosecution for war crimes, though few if any thought that had much chance of happening. Cagalli had her own views on the problem and was making preparations of her own. She had initially considered coordinting with Lacus, but eventually decided to do her own thing. For Lacus this was a philosophical and ethical fight. For her, it was personal. This was her country, damn it and she was going to show that she was worthy to be the leader of Orb, just like her father would have wanted her to be. She would not sing... though she could she had horrible stage fright and she didn't care to embarass herself in front of half the world... but she did have a speech planned. She'd worked on it with Athrun's and surprisingly Alkire's help. Or maybe not so surprisingly... was it really that odd that he knew how to manipulate people's emotions, when such a large part of his life was lived by deceit? After two days of working out the inflections and proper words, Alkire had triumphantly described its likely effect as somewhat similar to throwing an armed grenade into an ammo bunker... explosive in the extreme.

Athrun had spent a lot of time thinking about just what he was going to do. Though Cagalli was assured to be popular with the people in the peace protest, even though the world at large was still dubious of her, he had never doubted that many people in Orb had no particular love for him. The incident with the video tape and Cervantes's speech at the legislature had done nothing to disprove the validity of those people's opinions in the eyes of many and he knew he could not rely on any but the most perfunctory of welcomes at best. If he was unlucky they would greet him with clubs and knives. After much debilitation he had decided to step slightly out of character and just wing it. He was Cagalli's husband in all but legal declaration, damn it. If a man wasn't there by his wife's side when she needed him most, he was no man Athrun wanted to be. Screw world opinion, screw Orbite opinion. Athrun couldn't care less what the world thought of him... he already knew what the important people to him thought and that was enough. If having Cagalli's love meant the world hated him, let him be hated.

Kira was less concerned about his place in the scheme of things. He knew were he was going to be... right at Lacus's side, the entire time. That was a foregone conclusion... nothing to worry about. His thoughts turned towards what would happen after the peace protest. Despite everyone's hopes, including his own, he couldn't make himself believe that one protest in Orb, no matter how big or well televised, would suffice to bring the war to a close. There were too many factors that were still beyond their control that would obstruct peace. For one, even if Cervantes ws ousted, he would come back and he would not rest until he'd had his revenge, Kira knew. For another, two of the three BCPU's were still at large... and they were the more dangerous two in his estimation. And despite Waltfelds best work, they had only a murky idea of what the political situation was like up in the PLANTS and that worried him. The EA had lots of problems, Blue Cosmos being the biggest among them, but ZAFT was hardly blame free either. The continued fast paced military buildup in space worried him. He forced himself to return to the here and now... no sense in worrying about spilt milk before the milk was even poured.

Sai could have cared less about the soon to be events in Orb. Hes was barely even aware they were occuring, recovering as he was in a hospital in Hawaii the entire time before the protest and for several days after. Besides his wounds, which were painful... a shattered wrist and a gunshot wound to the thigh that would leave him with a permanent, if slight, limp... he also had to deal with his worry about Vanai, who had spent much of the time in the critical care ward. This was not because of her own wounds, which were of only medium concerns, a broken collarbone, bullet holed shoulder and minor concussion, but because of the potential damage Henri's knee might have done to their unborne child... children in fact, as the ultrasound had now revealed twins inside Vanai's womb, one boy, one girl. The doctors were worried about possible developmental problems due to the sharp impact from the blow and so kept her and the babies under constant watch. And beyond that worry was his burgeoning friendship with the young man who had saved both their lives. Markov Ashino was unlike any other person Sai had ever met for a long time... quiet, focused, extremely intelligent, but almost entirely inept in social matters and in things having to do with everyday life. In fact, Ashino... as he preferred to be called... reminded Sai a lot of how Kira had used to be, back when they were going to school together. Perhaps that was why they hit it off so well from the start.

For his part, Ashino was more than a little impressed with Sai. Though their philosophies differed in several ways, he found himself at ease with the young man in a way he never had experienced before. He actually found himself able to laugh once or twice, in geniune amusement. Though maybe that had a lot to do with his finally being free. He relished the thought that he could just get up, walk out of the hospital and go wherever he wanted, if he wanted to. He knew he wouldn't, since he'd sworn... of his own free will... to aid Sai, but he could. It was amazing. The feeling utterly blasted aside his programming, opening up dozens of new avenues of thought he had never gone down before. He had to learn about the whole concept of relaxation all over again, and rediscovered the beauties and perils of procrastination. Now wearing civilian clothes felt normal and he was even getting a handle on that elusive thing called "style". But what impressed him most about Sai was the drive he had, the indomitable will to succeed, to impose his newer, better plan for peace on the world... by force if need be. Unlike the rather naive peace wishes of Lacus, Sai had a solid plan and was sticking to it, which sat well with the highly organized Ashino. He was still not one hundred percent sure the plan would work, like Sai was, but it was better than any plan he had and leaps and bounds better than the way Cervantes was prosecuting the war right now. And if it went against his personal mindset... that the only good Coordinator was a dead Coordinator... well, the world wasn't perfect and never would be.

Another stickling point for Sai was the fact that his father in law seemed to have cut off all contact with him and Vanai. Immediately upon being hospitalized he had of course had people try to contact Cervantes, but their calls had continued to go unanswered for the past several days. Initially Sai had worried that his father in law was on to his little Isolationist movement but then he came to realize that Cervantes was just apparently too busy to take the call, because of the lack of action to kill Sai for his planned rebellion. In a way, that was worse than being found out. He'd never loved Cervantes, but he did respect the man and to be suddenly ignored was like a slap to the face. Of course it was far worse for Vanai, who felt utterly betrayed and in fact was so affected that she got sick because of it, but it wasn't exactly a walk in the park for him either. Just more fuel to his fire, more incentive to get the support he would need in order to show his father in law just what a terrible mistake it was to hurt Vanai like that. There was one positive side to the lack of communication... it allowed him the time to hide Ashino from Cervantes. Sai had not gotten anything like a complete story from Ashino about why there would be animosity between his new friend and Sai's father in law, but given that he owed the short red head not only his own life, but the lives of his wife and children Sai decided it was just one of those things he was going to take on faith. And so there was never any mention of just who had saved their lives, or of the hospital bill incurred in the two days it took Ashino to recover from his ordeal or of the fact that a new guest had moved into the mansion.

Cervantes was too busy working over dozens of plans for the continued strategic conduct of the war that was rapidly slipping out from between his fingers with his selected staff of advisors to worry about any phone calls from his daughter or son in law. He'd catch up on those later, when the crisis was averted. Right now he had only two concerns... finding a way to end the war quickly and finally... and keeping control of Orb. Of the two he was having more success with planning the war, and he was to the point of tearing his hair out over that. It seemed that no matter what he did to curb the peace movement it only grew larger and stronger, which made him only that much more angry and desperate. He could almost hear the laughter behind the grim tones of the EA senior commanders when they called him for status reports on Orb and he swore he caught the president of the AF smirking at him in a teleconference meeting, though the man continued to deny it. He was on the verge of losing all the respect and prestige he had garned up till now because of this pestilential country and he could not... would not... accept that. In secret, without even taking Asmodeus... who had grown increasingly unhelpful as of late... into his confidence, Cervantes drew up a set of crowd control plans he knew would stop the march in its tracks once and for all, if they truly tried to go through with it. Cray had at last recovered from the impact of the artillery shell and the Merciless was back to full operating specifications mere hours after its pilot awoke. Cray had already shown to have a talent for intimidation during his assault on Carpentaria and Cervantes planned to make good use of those tendencies to show the protesters just who controlled Orb.

The day before the protest was due to start, a privately owned charter tourist submarine sailed out to sea about two miles before descending out of sight. The boat reappeared three hours later and returned to its private dock. Customs felt no need to check the craft, as there was no sign of any ships in the vicinity of where the sub had gone and thus nothing to worry about. This was a big mistake on the part of Customs, but perhaps they could be forgiven, stretched as they were to the breaking point by the still massive hordes of people coming in to Orb via ship in order to witness the march. The twenty odd people that had crammed themslves and their assorted gear into the submarine left without being noticed, dispersing into the crowds at the beaches in ones and twos and not meeting up again until they had arrived at the central safe house the protest leaders were using, which was no house, but a large abandoned room deep underneath the subway tunnels beneath the city. The room had been used as a storage room when the subway system had been built but had been in disuse since that time, nearly thirty years ago and now few even knew it existed. From this room, which had been reconnected to the city power and water supplies on the sly by sympathetic maintenance workers, the power elite of the protest leaders organized and coordinated their massive flock of supporters into readiness for the big day tomorrow.

Dr. Simmons was in the thick of things as they arrived, lending her keen intellect and eye for detail and innovation to a slightly different type of construction project than she normally worked on. Organizing even a dozen people and getting them to all do the same thing at the same time is not an easy task when you cannot meet any of the people face to face. The lowest estimates for participants at this event were already exceeding twenty million... more than the entire population of Orb by itself. They had succeeded far beyond anyone's expectations... and they owed it all to Cervantes, who was doing an admirable job of bringing his own doom upon himself. But it was pure hell getting everything organized in time... they all knew they would be working almost nonstop until several days after the protest ended. Large coffee urns and stacks of caffienated drinks were strewn about the room, ensuring there was always a quick pick me up at hand for anyone who started feeling their eyes droop.

"Dr. Simmons!" Cagalli said joyfully, truly glad to see that the woman who had done so much to make the fight for peace possible was still alive and doing well. Considering the leaflets and pictures she had seen of what Cervantes's hit teams had down she had been afraid that they would have gone after the brilliant female engineer first. Unfounded fears, luckily. Or maybe not so much luck as foresight, since Kisaka had been the one to form the movement in the first place, Cagalli was sure there were probably several well defined and thought out protocols for ensuring the safety of the various leaders.

"Ms. Cagalli! It's so good to see you alive and well!" Erica Simmons replied, leaning back from a map table and stretching. "I hope you'll pardon me, but we're all a little busy around here, so just talk at me and I'll eventually get around to replying." she turned to look at the rest of the new arrivals and she found herself pleasantly surprised. Not only were Cagalli and Kisaka present, but so was Lacus Clyne, the always dependable Kira Yamato and Athrun Zala, Andrew Waltfeld, her friend Murrue Ramius and all five of the soldiers who had been with the kids when they first retrieved their Gundams. A remarkable group all told...she felt her spirits lifting and her body gaining energy just by looking at them. "Kisaka you dog, you neglected to tell me you were bringing an army with you. I thought it was just supposed to be you."

"It was just supposed to be me." Kisaka said with a dark look at Cagalli. "However, the Representative prevailed upon me to bring her along as well... and after that there was no shutting the door, they just kept coming."

"Well, we're all grateful you could come, it means a lot to me and I'm sure it will mean a lot to everyone else too." Simmons said, marking out a revision to the parade route as she talked. "Just seeing you and Miss Lacus will do wonders for the morale of everyone."

"I came here to do more than be seen." Cagalli and Lacus said almost in concert. They looked at each other and smiled slightly... both had been aware that the other was planning something but it was reassuring to have it voiced out loud. "I need to know when would be a good time to give a speech." Cagalli requested.

"And I need to get together with some of your technical people. I'm going to need several very powerful amplifiers and a microphone." Lacus added. Dr. Simmons frowned in thought for a moment or two before nodding.

"I believe we can accommodate you both. Representative, after the march reaches the government sector we had planned on holding several rounds of inspirational speeches before we read out loud our requests and reasons for holding the protest. If you would speak then, I think it would have the greatest effect. In fact, hold on a moment..." Dr. Simmons picked up a cell phone... one of a half dozen or so on the table nearby... and hit a speed dial. "Hello, Eugene. Its me. Yes, we're all very excited here to. I'm sorry but I have to be brief in case they try to trace the call. The reason I contacted you is that I think I've found someone better suited to reading our little manifesto... no, listen to me Eugene, its nothing against you, you are a wonderful speaker and orator, but I really think the words would have a lot more meaning coming from Dawn. Yes, that changes things, doesn't it? Yes, I'm glad you feel the same way I do. Okay... good bye Eugene... see you tomorrow." Simmons hung up. "Eugene Marley... he works for the Orb National Theater Group, plays the main male character in a lot of plays. He was slated to read our requests before but he agreed with me when I said you would be a more fitting outlet."

"I see that sheet of code names I gave you came in handy after all." Kisaka said with a poker face smile.

"Oh, definitely. We're assuming that they are either intercepting, jamming or recording our communications and those code words and phrases have really come in handy in keeping them in the dark. I'm afraid we use them so much that I should warn you not to be surprised if someone uses them in casual conversation with you."

"So I'm Dawn. From Desert Dawn?" Cagalli asked. Kisaka nodded.

"Thats part of it... theres some symbolic meaning in it as well... Dawn of a New Age, Dawn for a Better Day and others... I think it's fitting."

"Do we all have code names?" Athrun asked. Simmons nodded.

"Yep. Kisaka was his usual thorough self. You're Sword..." she pointed at Athrun. "Kira is Shield, Lacus is Soul, Kisaka is Lion, Waltfeld is Tiger, Murrue is Captain." Dr. Simmons listed off the names by rote.

"What about us?" Alkire asked. "Do we get cool little monikers ourselves?"

"You didn't think I'd leave you out, did you?" Kisaka actually smiled this time. "I put a lot of thought into yours, Robert. You're Mr. Smith. Raine is Ranger, Victor is Stormy, James is Goat and Vlad is..." Kisaka trailed off. "Vlad is Deadman."

"Wow, you really did put a lot of thought into those!" Alkire said sarcastically.

"I thought they were appropriate, especially for a man who refuses to acknowledge he has a real name." Kisaka retorted.

"The Lion... the Tiger... and the Goat. Why do I always get shafted?" James mumbled. Vlad leaned over to him.

"At least you didn't get threatened. How do you think it is for me? There's at least two or three people in this room right now who wouldn't mind seeing me dead. Kisaka for his fiancee and children, Waltfeld for his family... I tell you, I'm expecting a shot in the back any minute now."

"If I was going to shoot you, I'd be sure to do it from the front." Waltfeld whispered, causing James to start a little... he hadn't heard the Coordinator come up behind them. "And you can bet it wouldn't be a headshot either. That'd be far too fast for you. I think Kisaka's code names are very fitting... Deadman."

"This isn't the time or place. If you want my life then by all means, you're entitled to it. I don't deny that. But killing me now will not give you any satisfaction or closure, you know and it certainly won't help this peace protest any." Vlad replied calmly. He spoke nothing but the truth... he could hardly blame Waltfeld for desiring revenge and if the Desert Tiger wanted to kill him, Vlad wouldn't stop him... it was nothing less than a mass murderer deserved.

"You have a point. But this is not going to be over. I'm not normally an obsessive man... but you and I have a lot of unfinished business."

"You and me and every other Coordinator, Mr. Waltfeld, sir." Vlad replied. "We'll talk more about it after we get back to the Archangel."

"I'm agreeable to that." Waltfeld acknowledged. _How can he be some calm? He's not like I expected him to be. He knows I want to kill him and he seems to want me to kill him. I've heard of repentant killers but never would I think to count the Strangler Horrificus amongst them. This would be so much easier if he wasn't so agreeable... if he was a cold hearted bastard I could just aim and squeeze... but he's just a guy... a guy with a terrible past and no real future. Nothing is ever easy._

Unaware of the decidedly grim conversation occuring a few meters away, Lacus, Kira, Athrun and Cagalli were being introduced to the various other leaders of the protest. Lacus and Cagalli were of course major hits, that was nothing less than expected. Kira was greeted with slightly more reservation until it was revealed that he was the original pilot of the Freedom and Lacus's intimate friend... fiancee being a word they were avoiding for the moment. After that point in time he was greeted with nearly as much fervor as Lacus and his sister. Athrun got the coldest reception, which he'd been expecting. Even here, amongst some of the people most devoted towards the cause of peace, many could not help being suspicious of him for either his parenthood or more commonly because of Blue Cosmos's smear job and Cervantes's little follow up in that arena. Even the few Coordinators among the group of civilians did not have much to say to him. But no one was overtly hostile and they downplayed his relationship to Cagalli as much as possible for the moment, not wanting to step on any more toes than absolutely necessary until the time came. And the time would come, Cagalli was adamant at that. She wasn't going to hide her feelings or sacrifice her love just because public opinion didn't approve... not by a long shot. In a way, now that Blue Cosmos had revealed the whole affair it was more liberating... she had nothing to hide anymore and no reason to hide anything.

Kira was on the verge of being dragged off by several Coordinators who wanted him to have a look at some computer problems they were having, hoping a fresh mind would find some overlooked fact when Lacus stopped him with a hand on one arm. The Coordinators bowed and backed off quickly, which Lacus found more than a little embarassing... it was one thing to know that people admried and respected you, but quite another to be treated like high royalty just because you chose to stand up and make a difference in the world. She wasn't all that much different from any other Coordinator... or any other human. She could do a lot... but she could do nothing without the support of people like those in the room around her... no voice, no matter how loud, can call for peace alone successfully. "I want you to have these and wear them during the march tomorrow." Lacus said, placing two small objects in Kira's hand.

"Earplugs?" He asked questioningly. Lacus nodded, face serious.

"These are not going to be your average songs, Kira. I've been working a lot with Katie these last few days and I feel like I've come a long way since I sang at the funeral. I know I caused you a lot of pain then and I do not want to risk hurting you again." she told him in a whisper.

"No, Lacus. I'll be fine. It'd hurt me more to miss out on what could be one of the most important things you ever do..." Kira started to say before she hushed him by putting a finger on his lips.

"You won't be fine, Kira. You're going to be standing right next to me and we both know... even if you don't want to admit it... that you are more vulnerable to my abilities than almost anyone else. A lot of what I'm going to be singing is about hope and peace and happiness... I'm not worried about you there. But I do have a few songs saved up for performing later on in the march, especially if the military is ordered to stop the march. You have to remember I was a pop singer, and pop singers sing all types of music. Most of my popular songs were about unity and love and peace, but I've more than a few about love lost, sadness, sorrow, the pain of being alone and other more angsty tunes. I'm really worried that I might set off some of those bad memories you think I don't know about if you were to hear me when I'm using my abilities during those songs." she said firmly.

"Flay is dead and gone, Lacus. I was saddened by her death and at the time it tore me apart... but that was a long time and a lot of memories ago. Trust me, I can take it. I'm more worried about you, now! What happens if you overstretched your... uhm, abilities. I want you to be very judicious and careful... there's so much we don't know about them that..."

_Don't change the subject on me._ Lacus's voice snapped into his mind as clearly as if she had raised her voice loud enough to be heard across the room. The impact of the beepcall felt almost like a physical blow to the forehead. _Flay is dead but she is not gone. She will never be gone from you... not as long as you are even remotely the loving, caring and gentle person I love. You loved her, she was very special to you, especially in your times of crisis. You don't have to hide those feelings from me, I'm not going to be jealous of another girl who was lucky enough to know you as well as she did. I'll never like her, especially considering how she manipulated you, but its not my place or my intentions to criticize her or you for what happened between you, now or ever._

"You are right." Kira said slowly. "But I'm still convinced that I'll be fine. Your song did call up very painful memories during the funeral. It did hurt. But I'm not going to run away from that pain, because that would not do anything but deny that there was any pain. Like you said, Flay is never going to be gone and she is dead... its high time I came to full terms with that. Lacus, your music, your songs help people see what's deep inside themselves and recognize it for what it truly is... its only those people have a troubled conscience about what they've done or who they are that have anything to fear from you. Even if you drag out my very worst, most painful memories, thats only to the better in my opinion, because that will let me face and acknowledge them, so they won't have any power over me."

"You are right as well." Lacus allowed. _I hadn't thought of it that way... as ever, you surprise me, Kira, in a good way._ She thought privately. "Still, maybe it's not so much that I'm worried about hurting you as it is I'm worried about unduly influencing you. Some of the stuff I've been working on with Katie... some of the stuff I've discovered on my own... Kira... I could control you by controlling your emotions. It frightens me, all the things I could inadvertantly do to you if I'm not careful. These powers don't make anything easier, they just make everything more complicated. I'm always second guessing myself these days... are the emotions people feeling theirs alone or are they being magnified by me? Do the people follow me and adore me because of who I am, or because I'm subconsciously influencing them to like me? I fear I might be stripping the very people I care most about of their free will without even knowing it. What should I do?"

"You should do what you feel is right, just like you always have." Kira said firmly. "I don't have any real idea what you are going through, I'm sorry to say. This whole Newtype thing is way above my head. All I can tell you is to trust yourself. I trust you implicitly, Lacus. You are everything to me, everything I want, everything I need, everything that matters. You worry about influencing me... I say that any influence is insignificant compared to my real feelings anyway. You always have been better with emotions than I ever could hope to be... just trust yourself. Even if you can control me, even if you could hurt me with just a careless thought... I trust you not to. And that's the end of the subject as far as I'm concerned." he continued softly, holding her close to him. He felt dampness on his shirt and could feel a moistness in his own eyes.

"And you say I'm good at counseling people?" Lacus's somewhat muffled but suddenly much more lighthearted voice said from where she was pressing herself against him, blinking away the tears. "Thank you, Kira. You've helped a lot."

"That's what I'm here for after all." He said with a smile. He looked around the room. Kisaka, Dr. Simmons, Waltfeld and the TEMPEST members were all clustered around the map table in an animated last minute rehashing of plans and positions. Athrun and Cagalli had disappeared though they were probably nearby, given that Kisaka wasn't prowling about like a cat hunting mice. Kira thought that his friend and sister had the right idea. Tomorrow was for the public... tonight was for them and them alone. A few brief questions to one of the protest organizers quickly revealed the presence of several other nearby storerooms, still unused and locked up. Kira grabbed his and Lacus's tote bags, his being by far the smaller and lighter because in consisted of only a spare set of controls and a few odds and ends, while hers contained not only normal clothing but several stage costumes that she would chose from depending on how she thought the day was going to go. With a wave to the still huddled Kisaka and Dr. Simmons, Kira led Lacus to one of the rooms, which he unlocked with a key he had been given. The room inside was a bit dusty and completely dark... Kira was just about to start clearing off the floor a bit when the door closed suddenly and a slight but warm and firm weight tackled him from behind. _Getting dirty should be the last thought on your mind._ Lacus said into his mind with a mental giggle... not something he had ever imagine could exist.

"Don't you think we've gone a little farther than "just around the corner" would indicate?" Athrun asked as he and Cagalli continued walking along the disused subway maintenance tunnel. All the tunnels and rooms are here were in disuse, replaced almost a decade ago by more modern facilities closer to the surface. There were even a few closed down subway lines down here, complete with several trains of cars, all beneath the active lines which tended to run about ten to twenty meters below street level. They were at least fifty meters down right at the moment, and who knew how deep the tunnels actually went. After chatting with the various protest leaders for a while, playing the happily returned political leader, Cagalli had pulled Kisaka aside for a moment and told him that she and Athrun were going just a short distance off for some privacy. He'd nodded and agreed, then admonished her not to stray too far, especially at a critical time like this. She'd waved a reply, grabbed a flashlight and Athrun and set off into the tunnel system without a backward glance.

"What, you thought I was being honest? If I told Kisaka we were going exploring and wouldn't be back for at least a couple hours, he'd have insisted on coming along to watch over us. And we've had far too many eyes on us for too long now, in my opinion. High time for some just you and me time." she replied from just ahead of him. She had their only flashlight and was playing it around on the floor and walls in seemingly random patterns.

"So what exactly are we exploring for then?" Athrun asked, ducking under a length of piping of unknown utility. There was no response for a short time.

"I'll let you know when I find it." Cagalli answered. _This tunnel has to end somewhere... ah, a door, finally._ Cagalli stepped up to the door and opened it... it creaked loudly and dust cascaded from the hinges. _Perfect._ "Athrun... would you be a pal and check out the next room for me?" she asked, trying to sound normal.

_She's up to something... question is, what?_ Athrun thought. "I thought I was considerably more than a pal." He squeezed past her and stepped through the door ahead of her and turned. "Hand me the light?" Cagalli stepped over the threshold as well and half turned towards him... and suddenly the light went out while a terrible creaking groan came from the door as it rapidly swung shut. Athrun put out his hand but she wasn't next to him any more. "What are you doing?" he asked calmly, cocking his head and listening for the sounds of movement or breathing. He didn't detect anything. "Are you still here?"

"I might be." Cagalli replied, her voice muffled slightly. He thought she was behind him but when he put out his hand he only found the wall. "Then again, I might not be."

"Is there a purpose to this?" Athrun asked, shutting his eyes... it being dark as a cave he was only straining them in vain... and stepping forward into the room a few paces.

"There might be." Cagalli answered, this time seemingly from his left... the acoustics in the room were a little weird, especially with the lights out. "Then again, there might not be."

Athrun sighed. "I can see that you're being deliberately obtuse. Have I done something to upset you? If I have, please tell me about it... thats the first step to solving the problem."

"Why must there be a problem?" she asked him, focusing most of her mind on moving as silently as possible... just like Kisaka had taught her in the desert.

"You're acting very oddly." Athrun noted. "Is something bothering you?" He started when she chuckled, seemingly just in front of him, but when he moved his arms out in front of him he found only air. "Can't you just give me a straight answer?"

"I could if I had one." Cagalli told him.

"Could you at least turn the light back on?" he requested.

"Why? I find the dark liberating." she replied, her voice changing its tone. "Woulda thought you realized that by now." she became serious again after another brief chuckle, which had sent shivers down his spine nonetheless. "Maybe there's just something I want to talk about... I'm just so confused."

"Worried about the march tomorrow?" Athrun asked, slowly turning in a circle... he would find her eventually, he knew. "Everyone is nervous. Even me. Especially me. I'm not exactly Mr. Popular here."

"I'm worried about everything these days." Cagalli said, half to herself. "The closer we get to peace, the more I have to worry about. Initially all I had to worry about was surviving and getting revenge on Blue Cosmos. Now, all of a sudden, here we are in Orb again, on the verge of kicking Blue Cosmos out of the country once and for all. What have I been doing? I should be ready for this... but I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Well, you have that speech we worked on..."

"Screw the speech... words on paper... they don't do anything for me right now. They are for the people, not for me. That speech will help the common person on the streets figure out what to do... it provides no such guide for me. I feel like I'm lost in the dark, stumbling around, looking for support that may or may not be there."

"This is another thing like..." Athrun started to say.

"If you finish that sentence I'm going to leave you here to find your own way back." Cagalli warned him. "This is not the same thing as my little responsibility and confidence test in Hawaii. I have confidence, I know I can do whats needed for Orb, I'm going to take the responsibility for my actions... but what actions should I take? All my life these last few months has been concenrated on reaching a point like this... but I don't have any idea what to do next. I suppose I'll probably return to being Representative of Orb... but what will that mean?"

"A bigger paycheck." Athrun replied dryly. "Lots of meetings, lots of phone calls and much less time with the people you care about. It won't be fun or a walk in the park. But you'll get through it... you have the ability and the inclination."

"I don't need a pep talk, Athrun." Cagalli retorted. "I... I'm... I'm just trying to find some constants in my life to hang onto, something I can use to build off of into something meaningful for the future... both for Orb and myself."

Athrun smiled... she was behind him and to his right. She was moving dead quiet, but she'd kicked a loose bolt or something on the floor when she'd moved last. Casually, slowly, employing as much stealth as possible, he circled around behind her. He stood just behind her, close enoough now to hear her breathing and the sound of her hair swishing past her collar as she turned her head, trying to listen for him. He waited... two could play the hiding game. "Athrun?" she asked tenatively. He said nothing and smiled ever so slightly. "Athrun, this isn't funny." Cagalli paused a second more. "I know you're here... I didn't hear the door open." He remained silent. "Answer me, damn it!"

"And if I don't?" he breathed into her ear, slowly sliding his arms around her from behind. She jumped in his arms, completely unaware that he had been behind her. "What then, my princess, my Dawn? Will you turn the light on and find yourself or use the one constant you can always count on to build yourself a path out of here?"

"And what constant would that be?" she whispered back, shivering slightly in his arms as his hands started tracing along her arms and across her shoulders. She twitched again in surprise when Athrun placed his chin on her shoulder, cheek to cheek with her.

"Do you really have to ask?" he said, moving his hands downwards, just barely grazing her clothing and skin, just enough to tickle and tantalize... she hated it when he did that and also enjoyed it immensely.

"I can't build a future for Orb on our relationship!" she said in denial. "Look at what's happened already..." she stopped when Athrun's hands tightened on her hips. She could almost feel his eyes opening to give her a sideways glance.

"There are a number of things you can't do, Cagalli. Cooking, cleaning and poetry rank high amongst them." he told her. "However, the one thing you've always been able to do is inspire people... to get through to them even when they themselves think all is lost, to show them that life is always worth living, no matter how bad it seems at the time. What better foundation for a strong nation could there be than the love between two people like ourselves? We may not be saints but in all honesty, theres only one or two people I know who are more self sacrificing then us."

"But if public opinion is against us being married... Athrun, I can't give up on you but I can't abandon Orb for you either."

"Public opinion will always be public opinion, subject to change moment by moment. No country can be ruled solely by public opinion... some decisions are always going to be unpopular, no matter how necessary. I personally don't care if every other person on this wonderful planet of yours hates my guts. There is only one opinion that can sway me and I do believe she is safely in my camp. Let them complain... let them blame me and hate me... personally I wouldn't value the opinion, no matter how public, of a person who doesn't even try to understand whats really happening."

"So I should just say screw them, lump it and deal with it?"

"I'd use more politically correct terms, but basically yes. The people of Orb admire and respect you, Cagalli... much as many soldiers in ZAFT admire and respect me. I think that once we've explained the situation to them, they'll trust you. How can they not, given that now they've seen what the alternative government style is like? I don't recall Orb hosting many international protests of any type before the EA took over... now look where we are. We both have to face it, and so does the public... we're together and I don't think we're going to break apart, for good or ill. We may not always agree on things but I cannot imagine a life that does not have you central to it, can you?"

"It would be a bleak world without me, for sure." Cagalli admitted. She leaned back into him. "Are you going to put those hands to productive use or just leave them there?"

"What happened to the girl who didn't know what to do or what she wanted?" Athrun taunted gently, leaving his hands where they were.

"She's on vacation now that you've helped me sort things out a little bit. Damn it, don't leave me hanging!" Athrun's hands suddenly released her and she fell backward, landing hard on her butt. "Ouch!" she heard Athrun chuckle.

"I dunno... I'm having some trouble finding some constants to hang onto myself. It is awful dark in here..."

"Athrun!" Cagalli said sharply, reaching down for the flashlight she'd tucked into her pants pocket. _When I get some light on the situation you're going to pay, love._ Her hand reached the pocket and fished around inside... it was empty. She hadn't heard it drop either. "Cute, Athrun. Very cute. Now turn on the damned light."

"No, no no no... I haven't confided myself to you in return yet. See, I have a few problems too."

"Such as?" Cagalli chewed her lip slightly. He was playing with her and he knew it. She felt herself twitching. _When I get my hands on you..._

"I'll tell you when I think of one." he said from somewhere behind her. "Then again, I might not."

"Athrun, if you don't turn that light on right now..." Cagalli's voice trailed away suggestively. She jumped again when he grabbed her from the front this time... she'd been sure he was behind her. She was too startled by the sudden embrace to do more than just stand there.

"I thought you found the dark liberating?"

"Stop teasing me!"

"Why, its so fun?" Athrun asked. "You just need to relax a little... I know it feels like the whole world is resting on your shoulders, Cagalli... but life will go on. It will always go on, no matter how scared and alone you feel. You taught me that, after GENESIS. There is no way to know the future... all we can do is live our lives as they happen."

"Dammit... I'm supposed to be the strong one... when we first met you were bawling like a baby and then later on you were always so sad and melancholy. What happened to me inspiring you?" Cagalli protested with a smile.

"Believe me, you are the strong one. I'm just parroting what you've told me with a few embellishments of my own for flavor. And now I think we've both had enough talk, eh?"

"Kisaka is not going to be happy with us." Cagalli said, still smiling.

"I think I can take a few dark glares. Floor is a bit hard here..."

"That's why you get to be on the bottom... us royalty bruise easy."

"That's enough out of you..."


	72. The Day Of, part 1

The day of the protest dawned clear, bright and sunny. There was a cold wind blowing in off the Pacific but meteorologists expected it to die down by noonish, to be replaced by a short rain squall around four or five PM. Temperatures were hovering around fifty degrees in the morning and would probably climb to about sixty before the day was done... almost perfect temperatures for large crowds of people. It was almost like the heavens themselves were bestowing their blessing on the events of the day, by granting such fine weather. It was five AM and the protest was just beginning to form up. It was only a few isolated groups initially... ten or fifteen people would mosey out of a hotel or breakfast resteraunt and slowly walk down the uncharacteristically silent streets of the city, heading for the bay and beach areas. As time wore on the isolated groups converged like droplets of mecury into gangs of people, which slowly grew into parties and eventually hosts. By the time six AM rolled around there were already fifteen thousand people waiting on the beach by the commercial harbor, with hundreds more arriving by the minute. These were the die hards, the people who had given their lives for the peace protest, the people who had been initally recruited by Kisaka to form the underground resistance movement to the EA government. Each wore an armband with the flag of Orb embellished on it to denote their seperateness from the casual supporters and well wishers who would form the majority of the march.

It was to this group that Kira, Lacus, Athrun, Cagalli and the others deployed themselves. Lacus and Cagalli kept mostly out of sight as much as possible... it was still a secret to all but the most senior leaders that they were present in Orb at all and no one wanted to ruin the surprise. Keeping out of sight wasn't too difficult for Cagalli... she just wore one of Kisaka's big coats over her pressed and polished military uniform, with an old beret pulled down low to cover her hair and shield her eyes. Lacus was harder to conceal, dressed as she was in violet, white, pink and gold, with a golden hair ornament shaped like a crysanthemum blossom. It was impossible to conceal her long and bright pink hair under any sort of hat, so they just kept her in the middle of the group, shielding her from easy view with their bodies and trusting to the darkness to muddle any chance sightings. It seemed to work well enough... they marched out of the subway tunnel and down the city streets past several military observation posts, who were looking steadily more alert as the trickles of people grew into streams and then rivers, but they were not accosted or bothered in any way.

It was a fortunate thing that they weren't since they were decidedly heavily armed for a group of peace protesters. Although everyone prayed there would be no violence that day, no one felt like trusting Cervantes and the government to play by the rules anymore, not after the killings they'd already discovered. Kisaka wore a standard issue service pistol with several extra clips of ammunition on his belt underneath the coat he was using to hide his Orb military uniform. Murrue Ramius and Andrew Waltfeld were similarly equipped and dressed in the uniforms of an EA Captain and Commander respectively, though Waltfeld wore a tiger striped armband on his one arm. Athrun had also taken a sidearm as well as a combat knife strapped to his leg under his pants; he was dressed in black jeans, sturdy boots and a long sleeved button down green shirt, over which he wore his leather biker's jacket. Cagalli had a gun as well, leaving Kira, who was dressed in blue jeans and white shirt with a red windbreaker, Lacus and Erica Simmons as the only ones without a deadly weapon of some sort.

TEMPEST had come out loaded for bear. They'd studied the pictures of the bloodstained and shot torn rooms with the professional concern of trained experts and they had unanimously concluded the murders were not the work of police or other civilian trained forces, or even the work of regular military forces. The shots, though profuse, were too neat, too tightly grouped for random fire like what grunt soldiers usually used. No, the murders were the work of extremely well trained, motivated and utterly merciless killers, special forces to the bone. Whoever they were... and Alkire was willing to lay money that they would be coming from EFSOU, they weren't kidding around and so TEMPEST took it upon themselves to be just as serious, if need be. Alkire carried his assault rifle with plenty of extra ammo for the weapon, two pistols, and six assorted grenades ranging from tear gas and smoke to high explosive incendiary, as well as two knives for backup. Victor wore his saber and pistol and had a sub machine gun "lost" out of a Orb SWAT armory slung over his shoulder, plus a large bag of plastic explosives, remote detonators and preshaped demo charges of various sizes. James was forced to carry his beloved .50 caliber machine gun in a oversized guitar case, as there was no way to conceal it under clothing. Also wedged into the guitar case was a short barreled 40mm automatic grenade launcher with an eight grenade magazine, James wore his twin machine pistols underneath his windbreaker and also had a knife on his leg. Raine had left her sniper rifle on the Archangel, though she had kept the scope, with its range finding and nightvision capabilities, with her. Instead she carried a sub gun of the same stamp as Victors, plus her twin pistols, a knife, plenty of ammo and two medical kits. All the members of TEMPEST wore heavy body armor under their coats and had nightvision goggles with integral gasmasks in backbacks on their backs.

It was Vlad however that had drawn everyone's attention when girding himself for any possible confrontations. He'd stripped himself down to a pair of worn black fatigue pants and short sleeved shirt, leaving his arms uncovered except by his trenchcoat sleeves. He had a silenced pistol on one hip and a special holster for four throwing knives on the other. Two combat knives were worn on his back, while an automatic shotgun with a sawed off barrel was slung across his shoulders. Those weapons made Vlad look deadly... but then he opened a special padded case about the size of a personal pan pizza box and gently, almost reverently removed three garottes... one chrome steel and shiny with diamond dusted wire, another matte black with a black painted chain instead of a wire and the last dark wood with an oiled silk string. He tucked the first two into interior pockets of his trenchcoat and kept the third one tucked into the back of his belt. A bag of chalk dust, a flask of lubricant, a leather wallet full of lockpicks of both the normal and computerized variety, and a large spool of 150 lb fishing line also went into various pockets around his person. Vlad walked with his hands in his pockets to avoid giving away their mechanical nature... he alone was completely sure that the protest would not end peacably, given his extensive experience in how Blue Cosmos operated. His eyes never stopped roving, never stopped studying the environment and the people in it.

By seven AM things were really starting to shape up as the international crowds started to wake up and get ready for what promised to be one of the most exciting days in their lives. News crews from a hundred stations ran to their vans, doing last minute checks of data feeds and camera operability. Five thousand uniformed police from all across Orb took to the streets, clearing traffic and standing off in pairs at nearly every intersection, bracing themselves and the city for the onslaught of the marchers. Joining the police were hundreds of SWAT team members deploying to several different staging areas in case of the breakout of rioting... a foregone conclusion in the minds of many authirty figures. Held in reserve outside the city limits were three divisions of EA infantry, the most capable troops left among those recovering from Carpentaria. Fifteen thousand battle shocked and uneasy soldiers stood with wavering wills, hoping they would not be called in to control the crowds. Also in reserve, though known only to the upper echelons of the Orb Protectorate command staff, were fifty Strike Crusaders in case things got far out of control... though they were truly a last ditch force, because to deploy Mobile Suits into the heart of an occupied city against unarmed people would be nothing short of a massacre. Cray Thresher also sat in the cockpit of the Merciless, eagerly awaiting the signal from Cervantes.

At seven thirty AM there were already eight million people milling around in barely organized hordes at the various staging areas. The parade marchers could not all start in the same place... there were too many of them. Instead they would all start from different staging areas, starting with the people on the beach at eight in the morning and followed every thirty minutes afterwards by another group. There were five staging areas, each hosting about four million people. It would go down in history books as one of the most amazing examples of communication and crowd organization in the last few centuries. The people gathered with their signs and slogans and bands playing rebellious music, but not a single looting took place, not a single person became violent and there were no tense confrontations... whenever a parade of marchers were stopped or blocked by police they would almost instantly divert down one of a dozen alternative paths marked out by the event planners. It was truly a sight beyond description... the air filled with songs and chants and the ever present rumble of millions of feet moving at the same time drowning out the feeble sounds of the city, which was almost completely shut down. Traffic could not progress through streets blocked sidewalk to sidewalk with walls of people and most officeworkers found themselves unable to work as a seemingly unending tide of humanity flowed by beneath their windows. In fact, many of those same officeworkers found themselves almost irresitably drawn out of their offices and into those crowds, swelling the already massive numbers.

Lacus and Cagalli and the others walked with the crowd from the beach, hidden in its midst. At least for a little while, before yet more protesters, doing their part from their homes and offices across Orb, managed to hack into the public announcing network of the city, turning all the gigantic building-side video screens into staticky voids for about fifteen minutes while they worked to set up a live broadcasting line. City officials and military staff first started to realize things were completely beyond their control at this point, and panic started to set in. Things did not improve when the static cleared. Because when the static cleared was when the songs started. And not just ay songs, but songs sung by an instantly recognizable world celebrity, who appeared via live video feed on every pulic television screen in the city all at once. Several side feeds were also sent to different international news stations... one even went to a PLANT channel. The reaction was a little bit like a hydrogen bomb exploding. There was a cry of recognition so loud it could be heard two miles out at sea clearly. That same cry would echo around the world and outer space as the various news stations started playing the feed as well. "LACUS CLYNE... LACUS... MISS LACUS... MISS CLYNE..." the words may have been different, but the reaction was the same... surprise, simple joy and amazement.

This reaction was not shared by the people in charge of the EA government in Orb. Cervantes had been relaxing after a long, nail biting strategy session with a tall beer... which he promptly spat all over his desk and the confidential papers on it when the news feed came in on almost every channel simultaneously. Choking and coughing in constrenation he picked up the phone and dropped it three times in rage and haste before he could get it to his face long enough to bellow orders. "TRACE THAT SIGNAL! I WANT HER HEAD ON A PLATE!" he shouted. A stammered response came over the line and he went red as a tomato. "I DON'T CARE IF SHE'S GARLANDED WITH NEWBORN BABES, MUCH LESS HOW MANY PEOPLE SHE'S AROUND... SHE'S THE ENEMY AND SHE HAS TO DIE! SEND IN THE INFANTRY... NOW!" On the outskirts of the city the infantry divisions received the word they'd been dreading since early that morning and mounted up, climbing into trucks and mechanized transports, clambering aboard tanks and missile jeeps to hang off the sides and just plain old marching in, weapons at the ready.

The troop's advance faltered almost the very instant it started though... the soldiers could not help but hear Lacus's song and feel the emotions she was weaving into the words. Most all would describe it later as just a sort of feeling... not quite definable, but something that just reminded them of comrades lost, of friends killed, of loves sundered... all by the war they fought in. By the time the soldiers reached the crowds most of them just stood aside, unable to grapple with their gnawing consciences, unable to reconcile their orders to hunt and kill with the feelings of comraderie, friendship and understanding that seemed to swirl out of each song. Those few who hard hard enough hearts or disciplined enough minds to ignore the butterflies in their stomachs and twitches in their nerves pushed in vain at the crowds who seemed to form an impassable wall of flesh, not actively resistant to the soldiers but impossible to pass through by sheer mass of numbers. Even when guns were leveled and orders barked through megaphones the people did not disperse... largely because they couldn't... there was no room to disperse to. Realizing this and unable to open fire on helpless civilians, especially women and children, the soldiers could only stand in frustration and watch the crowds move past, becoming trapped and isolated like islands in the sea.

To Kira and the others walking in direct proximity to Lacus it was like wading through a flood of their happiest memories of friendship, love and togetherness. There wasn't a dry eye within a hundred meters but no one faltered or fell behind... instead the songs seemed to impart a wild, unquenchable energy of their own that even speeded up the pace of the marching and had many hundreds and soon thousands of people singing or humming along, many unconsciously. Soldiers who heard the song in person, not over the televison or radio almost uniformly fell back... that or joined the crowd and marched with them, not against them. It wasn't that the words were particularly meaningfull, many a person would say... Lacus just sang the same songs from her old records... but there was something about the WAY she sang them that day that struck through to the heart of even the most stone cold killer among them. You could not be human and not be touched by the care and concern and love Lacus was pouring out... even Cervantes found something stirring deep within his long forgotten soul when he listened to the songs while waiting for progress reports that never came. He ruthlessly quashed the feelings, but they were there.

Zacharis Frost's reaction was unique amongst all the people who heard the songs that day. Whereas for most people they had a myriad of effects, raising feelings of friendship, unity and contentment, Frost experienced a uniform effect... nearly physical agony. His insane mind had no defenses against Lacus's Newtype power, he was even more open than Kira or Ysak were. No matter how much he covered his ears and screamed and shouted denials he could not drown out the sounds... not words but sounds... that battered him like waves, sinking deep within him like dagger blades digging at his flesh, trying to awaken feelings and emotions that had been burned out of his mind by the Doc long ago. He felt like his mind was being entangled with razor wire and slowly pulled as a single piece out through his eyesockets. He staggered about, slamming into things, tripping over himself and beating his hands and head against the walls and floor in mindless attempts at escape... for once his resilience worked against him... despite his excruitiation, he found the blessed release of unconsciousness to be unattainable. No matter where he went or how far he fled he couldn't escape the songs... they were playing from every radio, every TV, out of every public intercomm... no matter how many he smashed his augmented hearing kept picking up the sounds again, offering him no relief.

Cray was less affected... he too was vulnerable to the siren call of Lacus's power, but unlike Frost he still retained a modicrum of those emotions Lacus's song called on. Repressed, restrained and mostly forgotten they may have been, but they had not been burned out of his mind and personality. His thoughts focused on his past... without even realizing it he thought about his father and mother and sister, people whom had long been thought to be removed from his mind by memory wipes. He thought about Amy Sihov, BCPU 5, his and Frost's erstwhile lover, still lying brain dead in some Swiss hospital. He thought briefly about each and every girl he had ever slept with... but most of all he thought about the Doc. He was suffused with the good feelings that pleasing the Doc had always brought on to him... so much so that he started unconsciously humming along to Lacus's songs just because of the pleasurable feelings he got. Explosions and blood sprayed and danced across his vision as his eyes slowly closed and he drifted into a sort of memory trance, not quite awake but not fully asleep, still humming, reliving his life one moment at a time in full, unadulterated enjoyment of every moment.

Asmodeus waited in one of the palace audience chambers, along with the officers and senior enlisted members of the Hellhounds. He too listened to the music... listened to it, analyzed it, considered it... and let it pass him by. He might have felt the beginnings of a few tugs on his emotions but he brutally clamped down, thinking about multiplication tables and tactical briefings of the past in order to focus his mind. He looked around with eyes clear of the effects that seemed to be afflicting his soldiers, who were glancing about uneasily, goosebumps visible on their flesh as they grappled, each in their own way, with the feelings stirred in them by the music. The only solider able to meet Asmodeus's icy gaze was Cyprus Finch, who looked and acted as stolid as he always did. The two men shared a brief moment of companionship, just by the fact that they were the only two not feeling friendly or united at all.

Up in the PLANTS Noah Borander had been interrupted in the middle of working on the revised version of one of his simpler AI control programs... one that dealt with the basic aerial and terrestrial movements of a mobile suit... by exclaimations and shouting audible even through the sound shielding common to his father's labs. Annoyed, he'd finally given up trying to ignore the continued sounds, which sounded suspiciously like some form of music and closed down the computer before heading out into the halls to find out just what in the name of hell was happening. It didn't take him long to figure it out... almost the instant he stepped outside the sound shielded room and heard the plaintative notes of Lacus's song he was entranced. It wasn't the words themselves... those were identical to many he had heard before, playing on various music programs around the BoranderCorp labs, offices and assorted buildings. But there was something beyond the words... part of them yet not... almost like the words were being used as a sort of transport medium. His mind was thrilling in time to the rise and fall of the cadences and stanzas and his emotions were oscillating wildly... at least until he clamped down on his mind and forced himself to remain open but analytical. He'd never imagined there were others like him... people who could influence the minds of the people around them just by wanting to. At once he felt happy to find another like him and jealous... he liked being unique and she was a threat to his power. He made up his mind then and there... Lacus Clyne would either be his to own... or destroyed by his hand.

Aboard the Archangel Dearka and Miriallia lounged in one of the ready rooms off the port hangar, where the Grand Buster, freshly repaired and fully rearmed... in all senses of the word... waited in case it was needed. Ysak and Katie were in the starboard ready room, Katie having seen no reason to stay on the bridge when she could act as communication officer nearly as well by using a portable computer linked to the main ship's systems. Dearka and Mirillia were less affected by Lacus's song than most, both being Stumps and far removed from the source of the transmission. Still, they found themselves inching closer and closer together quite without realizing it until Miriallia was nearly sitting on Dearka's lap. She looked at him and shook her head slightly at the somewhat befuddled expression on his face... they both knew what was happening, since they'd felt something like it at Chanel's funeral but it was still pretty hard to accept as a fact and not a dream... but they had no choice but to accept it, given how it was affecting them. "I just want to say this for posterity... Lacus Clyne officially creeps me out now!" Dearka declared suddenly. Miriallia slapped him on the arm in reproof but couldn't help but agree inside, even as she started to hum along to the music... her friend certainly seemed changed from just a day earlier, now that Mir was listening to her on the radio.

Ysak was having a predictably hard time dealing with the music... if he could have he would have shut the radio off, but Katie wouldn't let him, telling him that it was good for his character to deal with the images, memories and feelings the singing conjured up. He sat hunched over in his chair, eyes staring at the floor, desperately trying not to smile or feel cheerful despite how the songs were making him twitch and hum in time to the words. For Katie it was easier... she just blocked out the parts of her mind that were receptive to Lacus's power wavelengths... no shield she could construct was strong enough to keep Lacus's power out, not when she was like this, so instead she'd intentionally blinded herself, so to speak... deafened herself might be a better way of putting it. She still heard the words, but they were just words... enjoyable in and of themselves, but no more so than any other song. She sat across the room from Ysak, computer in her lap, trying desperately not to laugh out loud as he started and stopped humming every few seconds as he fought against the inevitable. His efforts to control himself were doomed to failure, but Ysak being Ysak, that didn't stop him from trying with all his might. Grinning wickedly at last, Katie could not help but mess with him a little. Soundlessly she stood up and walked over behind him while he concentrated on blocking out the entire world. He was so focused on controlling himself he did not notice her until she slipped her hands under his shirt and started massaging his chest and sides.

"S-stop... t-that... that doesn't... doesn't help!" he stammered. _Of course it doesn't help. I'm not trying to help you... well, maybe I am, just like Dearka does. I'm just getting you to lighten up a little. Smile... be happy... you can't win against Lacus today. Just enjoy it... as far as mental manipulation goes, this is about as benign as it gets. Just relax... live in the moment my love, Ysak-y._

"I'll relax when you get out of my head." Ysak mumbled irritably. _Should I stay in your shirt though? Your mouth says no, but your mind says yes?_ "You're impossible!" Ysak complained, trying to tense up angrily and failing utterly. _Now now... don't get like that... you're going to have to get used to me being in your head... especially if you ever want to get used to being in me... comprende?_ "G-godamnit! Don't say things like that! Even in my head! Especially in my head!" _Why? Nothing to be embarassed about... every living animal has sex... its a fact of life._ "Maybe so, but they don't all talk about it!" _So talking about it is what makes you uncomfortable?_ "You know it is!" _You're so cute, Ysak-y._ "What? What do you mean by that?" _You're a guy, you wouldn't understand._

Back on the streets of Orb, things were looking up for the peace protest. The military response had been pushed aside with ease and not a single shot fired. The police were falling back, too few in number to even begin to contain the crowds, much less stop the path of their marches. Already the lead elements of the protesters were entering the government sectors, pushing past the hastily erected barricades of Y beams and police cars, eventually sweeping them aside like a hand pushing a mound of dirt. Lacus took a short break from singing to drink and refresh herself... she'd been going almost nonstop for more than three hours, walking and singing at the same time.

"You really are amazing, you know that?" Kira said, moving over to take her arm in his... unaware until he looked up that the image was now being televised across the entire Earth and most of space. _Well, I guess that tears it... no more keeping the relationship between me and Lacus a secret._ An uncommonly mischevieous mood suddenly swung over him. _In for a dime... in for a dozen... this should cause a rating spike._ Without warning he leaned in close to Lacus and kissed her full on the mouth. She was surprised at first but certainly not unhappy and she quickly leaned back into him, both of them stopping walking for a few moments.

"That was nice. Unexpected but nice. You should do that more often." Lacus told Kira, once they both came up for air. It wasn't until she heard the clapping and whistling that she looked ahead again and noticed that the camera was still rolling film. "Oooh... I guess we just went public, didn't we?"

"Just a little." Waltfeld commented jovially, coming up behind them. "My name is Andrew Waltfeld. I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Every Male Single Coordinator Between 14 and 19 Now Hates My Guts." he whispered to Kira.

"Oh come now, its not that bad..." Lacus protested.

"Yeah, it is." Athrun countered. "You would not believe how many jealous people I had to deal with back when we were engaged... I overheard mechanics several times talking about how easy it would be to just "botch" some maintenance on my mobile suit so they would have a chance at you." He looked sidelong at Kira and smiled widely. "Your days are numbered, my friend."

"Might as well make the best of them then." Kira replied, unfazed, going back for another long kiss, this time ending it by picking Lacus up and carrying her in his arms, to much adulation from the people around them... so much so that it brought a real blush to Lacus's cheeks.

"Something's gotten in to you today, Kira. Not that I mind..." she commented in a satisfied voice, throwing her arms around his neck. "My fan base will never be the same, I fear. You really are being cruel to all my young male fans, Kira." she did a little teasing of her own, smiling and waving into the camera, blowing a kiss.

"What do you think would happen if I did something like that after you gave your speech?" Athrun asked Cagalli, jerking a thumb at Lacus and Kira's antics. Cagalli looked over at her little brother and smiled.

"I'd imagine you'd be shot by a sniper before you could come back for the second kiss. Assuming you weren't though, you'd probably be torn limb from limb the moment you stepped off the stage. Not that I'm discouraging you from doing it... it would make me very happy actually." she replied thoughtfully.

"Me getting shot in the head or torn limb from limb would make you happy? Geezh, no more birthday gifts for you."

"You know me... I've never really had much use for you, Athrun."

"I can go away if you'd like?"

"If you move one step farther away from me I will shoot you in the kneecap myself and drag you with me for the rest of the day, bleeding in horrible agony."

"When you put it like that... I guess I'll stick around for a little while at least." he said with a smile that she returned brightly.

"Seriously though, I think it might send exactly the sort of message you and I discussed last night if you would do something like that after I give my speech. By that point in time the crowd should be in an uproar anyway and I can't imagine it getting much worse for a few kisses and a hug." Cagalli told him, weaving her steps slightly so they bumped into each other and stayed wedged tight... in disguise she could get as close as she wanted.

"Heads up lover-kids!" Alkire called back to them. "We're entering the government district now. Just another mile or two until the main event." He turned aside to Raine and jerked his thumb at Kira and Lacus. "God, can you imagine the hate mail he's going to get?"

"There are certainly more than a few young teens sitting around with crushed dreams right now." Raine replied with a chuckle. "Good for them." she said, meaning Kira and Lacus. She continued to look around carefully, just like every other member of TEMPEST was. "And so far, so good for us... knock on wood."

"I must say, I'm surprised." Victor cut in. "I wasn't expecting us to reach the government district without a serious confrontation of some sort. Everything has gone off without a hitch... if I didn't know better I'd say we were walking into a trap... but no trap is big enough to contain this many people." he swept his arm at the horde around them. "I wonder what Cervantes is up to? He absolutely cannot let this get much further if he wants to retain any sort of control over Orb."

"Maybe he gave up." James interjected.

"He doesn't give up." Vlad refuted. "The man is driven to succeed by desires we normal people cannot even comprehend. He's not going to take this lying down... the farther we progress the worse the reaction is going to be, when it comes."

"That was really uplifting, Vlad. Thanks." Alkire said with heavy sarcasm.

"This will end in tears... an ocean of tears..." Vlad replied, mostly to himself.

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In the Orb Palace, things were hectic. Most of the native Orbites had "mysteriously disappeared" or "called in sick", having decided to join in with the protesters, many of whom were friends, family and neighbors. The EA personnel were rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off... there was no way they could have been prepared for a public event of this magnitude. It seemed like the entire population of Orb was marching on the capital in a cohesive movement, demanding change and reform. People were sweating bullets left, right and center and no one had any idea what to do. Senior management was paralyzed, each trying to find some way of delegating blame or responsibility for the problem, well aware that a lot of people were going to lose their ASS because of this debacle, if not their heads. Cervantes, still locked in his office was staring at his TV screen with horror on his face. Bad enough was seeing both Lacus Clyne and Kira Yamato alive and well... and disgustingly intimate... but worse he could even hear the protesters now... through his window as they marched ever closer.

"Get me the mobile suits! Where are my Strike Crusaders?" he demanded into a phone. There was nothing but silence on the line for several minutes. Finally a shaky voice replied.

"Th-this is Second Lieutenant Morgan... how may I help you, sir or ma'am?"

"You can help me by putting me in contact with your fucking commanding officer!" Cervantes yelled into the phone.

"The CO is busy right now, sir." Morgan replied nervously.

"Then get me whoever the fuck is in charge of the Strike Crusaders I ordered prepped for crowd control!" Cervantes demanded, not bothering to reign in his anger.

"I'm sorry sir, but the entire command staff is unavailable. The mobile suits are inoperable right now... mechanical problems, I'm told." Lieutenant Morgan winced as he said it, knowing full well how unlikely it was that fifty mobile suits would all fail at once. He didn't blame the pilots... any man or woman who took a mobile suit in against civilian protesters was asking for war crime charges. He was resentful of his CO for making him take the call, but he understood the reasoning... he could play stupid and delay the order indefinitely, the CO could not.

"Inoperable... unavailable... MECHANICAL PROBLEMS!?" Cervantes screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OVER THERE? YOU TELL THOSE PILOTS TO GET IN THEIR MACHINES AND GET OVER HERE OR ELSE!"

"Or else what, sir?" Morgan tried to remain polite, rubbing his sore ear.

"You don't want to find out, Lieutenant... just get them over here... now." Cervantes's voice went dead cold and calm. With an evil look on his face he hung up the phone before dialling another number. "Asmodeus? I..." Cervantes trailed off as the disaster playing itself out on his TV screen suddenly became far more hellish than it had only minutes ago. "What the hell is that? A stage? And who the hell is... no... no..." Cervantes dropped the phone in shock and clutched the TV so hard he cracked the screen under his fingers. "This can't be happening..." Cervantes watched in hopeless dread as a slim female figure, clad in a high ranking Orb military uniform, slowly mounted the steps of the hastily constructed stage, microphone already in hand. The girl had golden yellow hair cut in a wild half tangle and as the camera zoomed in on her face he found himself staring into two yellow-brown eyes, like those of a hunting cat. "Cagalli Yula Attha..."

It was like looking out at the Pacific ocean itself... except that this ocean was by far louder and less peaceful. All she could see was people for as far as she could see in any direction... people and buildings poking up out of the mass of people... she could not see the ground anywhere. _Now is not the time to get stage fright, Cagalli. You have nothing to worry about. All these people adore you, no matter what they've been told. And Kisaka is right behind me. And so is Athrun. Nothing can go wrong._ She held the microphone to her lips. "Orb... can you hear me? My name is Cagalli Yula Attha..."

"Sir? Sir? Mr. Zunnichi? Cervantes!?" Asmodeus called into the phone, his eyes wide as he stared at the same scene his boss was staring at. _This is bad. This very bad. That crowd is going to go insane... is going insane. Kudos to whoever planned that little trick._ "Are you there, sir?"

"Y-yes I am." Cervantes replied, wrenching his eyes away from the screen that showed the doom of all his plans and ambitions in Orb. Now he was regretting sparing Cagalli Yula Attha the flames of scandal during his speech to the Orb public back whe he'd taken control of Orb... he'd kept her image in the minds of the people pristine and now she was going to use that image to destroy his works. His mouth started twitching and a mad gleam came into his eyes. The bitch wouldn't get away with it. He wouldn't accept defeat lying down. No... if his dreams were going to die... so would hers! "Kill her. Kill her and all of her friends. Now. Do it now, Asmodeus! Send out the hounds of hell and KILL THAT BITCH!"

"B-but sir!" Asmodeus eyed the jubilant crowd as he tried to respond to that insanity. "It would be pure suicidal madness to send armed soldiers into that crowd!" the various Hellhound officers perked up at hearing that, various twisted expressions on their faces showing how they felt about the orders their boss was apparently receiving. "Even the Hellhounds wouldn't get ten feet before being torn to shreds if they went into that mob armed!" Asmodeus protested.

"Has Zunnichi gone totally off his rocker?" Thomas Glory whispered to Cyprus. "Ten feet... hell, we wouldn't get two feet if we tried to kill Yula Attha right now. You couldn't get me into the crowd with a weapon in hand if you put a knife to my back!" Cyprus did not reply verbally, but nodded his agreement... surrounded by hundreds of thousands if not millions of loyal unto the death citizens, Cagalli Yula Attha was about as safe as she could possibly be while remaining in Orb. It would take twenty or thirty thousand soldiers with a mountain of ammo and the balls to fire at women, children and helpless civilians to break up the crowd enough to get at her... and no such force existed, certainly not on Orb and likely not in all of the EA.

"I'll worry about the crowd!" Cervantes said wickedly, grinning from ear to ear. "You just worry about killing Yula Attha, Clyne and the rest of that clique. I want you to take care of it personally, Asmodeus. No screw ups... I want their hearts on a silver platter, do you understand?" He did not bother to wait for a reply, he hung up briefly before dialing in another number. "Cray... this is Cervantes. I need you to take care of a little infestation problem I'm having... bring the Merciless." he hung up again and thought for a moment. His grin stretched wider... that would be one way of ensuring his revenge was taken care of. He dialled a third number, which rang almost ten times before finally being answered. "Zacharis... how are you feeling? Theres a job you could do for me, I promise you'll enjoy it. Meet up with Asmodeus and the Hellhounds... yes, you can take as much time with her as you like as long as you bring me back proof of death. Make it painful for me, Zacharis." Cervantes hung up for the last time and then went over to his window. He could not see the stage from there, but he imagined what it would soon look like. The thought pleased him.

Asmodeus slowly hung up the phone, a grim look on his face. Frowning, he spun to face the assembled officers and senior enlisted gathered in front of him, all watching him with total interest. Asmodeus licked his lips as he made up his mind as to what he was going to say. Finally he just decided to get it over with. "We've been ordered to kill Cagalli Yula Attha, Lacus Clyne and any close supporters they may have." he said heavily. "The time frame for this mission is immediate." Asmodeus paused again, weighing his words. "Every man and woman here knows that to set foot into that crowd bearing a weapon is a death sentence. Mr. Zunnichi has told me that he will take care of the crowd... how he did not divulge. Once the crowd has dispersed enough to render it feasible, we will deploy in full assault order to complete the mission objectives. Are there any questions?"

"Could we not just use sniper fire to take her down? I make it about a half mile or so from this building to her location, give or take a few hundred feet. Even allowing for the crossbreeze, thats still not too difficult of a shot to take." Lieutenant Howard of Delta team said carefully.

"Don't be an idiot." Cyprus said cuttingly. "If a sniper bullet were to strike her down now, she would become far more powerful than any of us could possibly imagine. As a living, breathing person, Caglli Yula Attha is easily the most politically powerful person in all of Orb right now. As a martyr her image would bestride the entire world and near space. Not to mention not a single EA aligned person in this government district would ever leave it alive after she fell. If you really want to see what twenty million enraged citizens can do to a few thousand soldiers and staff members with their bare hands, by all means, open fire. Just give me some warning so I can try and make a break for it first."

"Lieutenant Finch makes a strong point." Lieutenant Davisson, of Bravo team said. "To kill her now, in full view of pretty much the entire world would only create problems, not solve them."

"I don't see how Mr. Zunnichi plans on shifting that crowd..." Sgt-Major Glory said speculatively. "It would take an armored division to get within shouting distance of that stage, and only then by driving over the people themselves."

"All right, people, that's enough questions." Asmodeus said sourly. "I'm not any more happy about this mission than you are. But it remains a fact that we have been given orders by a superior officer and so we must figure a way to carry them out. Let's just assume for the moment... hypothetically speaking, how would we execute the mission if the crowd was dispersed?"

"She's bound to have guards... Kisaka among others. Isn't she supposed to be heavily involved with young Zala?" Howard said with a frown.

"She's also related to Kira Hibiki." Davisson pointed out. "There's one dude I wouldn't want to cheese off... you guys seen what he did to that combined arms regiment down in Panama? Holy shit!"

"He's not so tough outside of his mobile suit." Asmodeus said with a slight smile. "In fact he refuses to use weapons, other than his mobile suit. I wouldn't worry so much about her friends and family... instead I would daresay she is likely protected by those TEMPEST people I briefed you on."

"We get to go up against Vlad the Strangler? Lucky us!" the talkative sergeant from Charlie team said sarcastically. "I don't know about you guys, but I've met him before and he is one stone cold bastard of a killer."

"There is one of him and fifty three of us... Vladimir is good but he is not that good. Nobody is that good. Not even the Lieutenant." Asmodeus cracked another smile. He became serious again. "I need a plan, people, get hot!"

"If I had to do this..." Cyrpus said slowly. "I would send a blitz charge at her postion... teams Alpha and Bravo, right up the middle. Charlie and Delta would swing out wide... classic pincer tactics... once they see us they will likely retreat, being outnumbered and outgunned. They'll head for the ground, for a place to hide. Unless we are very lucky and they are very slow, they will reach their hidey hole. We will have to go in after them. It will be intense, up close, personal and bloody fighting... exactly the sort of mission we've trained for."

"Casualty estimations?" Davisson asked, deferring to his legendary counterpart. Cyprus pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Too many variables to say for sure. Given the nature of the target and her likely protection, I'd say anywhere from twenty to forty percent casualties suffered." there were aghast noises from every other person in the room but Asmodeus.

"Twenty to forty percent! Thats obscene! Even the most dangerous missions against ZAFT held bases during the last war were only estimated at ten to fifteen percent casualties and were usually far lower than that!" Howard protested.

"You think Robert Jones doesn't know that? You think Andre doesn't know that? These people were trained almost the same way we were. They know us... ZAFT does not. That right there bumps the casualties up pretty high!" Glory said, defending his bosses opinion. There came a sudden knock on the door. Everyone quieted and looked askance at the entrance... who would be knocking on this particular door, to this particular room, which wasn't even officially occupied? Guns came out, held casually in hand as the door slowly opened. When the figure in the doorway became visible, the guns did not go away, but were clenched tighter.

"Hello Helldogs... are you ready to see what Hell is really about?" Zacharis Frost asked with a nasty smirk as he looked into the room.

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On the impromptu stage Cagalli was having trouble getting started... every time she started to say something, even asking for the crowd to quiet down, raucous cheering and celebration would rise up to drown her out. She'd known she was going to be a hit ever since she first planned to make an appearance, but this was overwhelming. She could not hear Athrun behind her whispering encouragement, the crowd was so loud. She tried holding up her hands for silence, but it just didn't work. She resigned herself to just waiting for the crowd to get tired of cheering her. It took longer than she had expected... people were still cheering twenty minutes after she'd gotten on the stage and introduced herself, but things were finally starting to calm down. _Well, if nothing else I guess I don't have to worry about embarassing myself in front of this crowd... i could do a juggling act and they'd cheer until they were hoarse._ Finally, at long last, the crowd had quieted to the point where talking was feasible.

"Thank you so much, my fellow citizens!" Cagalli said, waving to the crowd. She hurried on before they could get loud again. "I've made my appearance today because I have something important to say to all of you... and by extension to the rest of the world as well." she waved at the news camera's this time. "But before I do that, I have here in my hands a short list of the reasonable demands the people of Orb have almost unanimously voted to give to the Earth Alliance occupation forces... though you all know them by heart, I'm going to read them aloud to ensure that no one can mistake our purpose here today!" Cagalli looked over towards the Orb Palace in the near distance. _I hope you're watching this, Cervantes Zunnichi. Payback, as they say, is a bitch._

"The first demand of the people of Orb, if acknowledged and acted upon, would likely solve all the subsequent problems that solutions have been requested for as well. We want Cervantes Zunnichi and his pro-Blue Cosmos goons out of our nation! We are tired of the persecution of Orb citizens merely because of the circumstances of their birth. We are tired of the injustice perpetuated by Blue Cosmos on any political group with differing views and the will to speak up in protest... to wit the vandalism, harrassment, assaults, threats and even deadly attacks perpetuated upon hundreds if not thousands of peacable Orb citizens by sanctioned members of that group. They will leave not later than five days from receiving this official notice and will never step foot in Orb again. The people of Orb have even raised a public fund to pay for the moving and travel expenses of the indicated people, to expedite their emigration from our nation. That is the first demand." Cagalli read loudly and clearly from the sheet of paper in her hands.

"Not bloody likely..." Cervantes said through gritted teeth. "Once you accept Blue Cosmos into your home, Blue Cosmos does not leave unless the home is destroyed and no longer useful. I'd make a counter offer but she won't be around long enough to accept." He looked at his watch and did some calculations in his head... the raucous crowd had played right into his hands, delaying Yula Attha's no doubt fiery speech that would send them all into a near religious frenzy by more than twenty minutes now. Cray would be arriving within the next two or three minutes, having had to fly across the nation from the Merciless's staging point.

"The second demand from the people of Orb is the recinding of the completely unlawful and unreasonable War Taxes statute that was forced through parliament shortly after the Earth Alliance's so called "Relief Fleet" arrived. The people of Orb do not support a ten percent increase of property, sales and income taxes, especially to pay for a war they no longer feel they can support, morally, ethically or financially. Again, the Earth Alliance government has five days from this notice to enact the requested change." Cagalli continued.

"And what will you do if we don't?" Cervantes said to himself. "Come break our bones with sticks and stones? It is only your words that can hurt me, Yula Attha, not your people." He checked his watch again... any minute now.

"The third demand from the people of Orb is the immediate cessation of all forced conscription programs. Not only unethical and unfair, but completely unlawful under the Constitution of Orb, these programs have sent tens of thousands of our citizens off to fight for the military forces of foriegn nations for a cause that few of them believe in. It would be bad enough if our citizens were being press ganged into joining our own military, but sending them off to fight as foriegn soldiers is completely beyond the pale. The recruitment programs must stop by the end of this day, today!" Cagalli was really getting into these demands... they were setting her speech up admirably, hitting a lot of her major points. The crowd could feel that she was building to something bigger than just the demands and remained in a hushed silence.

"Aww... boo hoo, our people actually have to fight along with everyone else in this world wide war? I'm so sorry." Cervantes muttered angrily. "Why don't you people just sit out the war... no one will hate you for it... no, not at all... we all like fighting and dying for you while you sit at home and watch... bastards." He punched the wall with one hand. "How about you people try dying for a change... die for your cause, it doesn't matter to me... just die!" he looked up in the sky and saw the large dot that had to be the Merciless slowly descending from the clouds above. "Took him long enough!"

"The fourth demand from the people of Orb is the restoration of Orb control to the parliamentary, judicial and executive branches of the government. We are tired of being puppets for corrupt officials who pass laws to suit themselves and their home nations, such as favorable trade agreements, customs toll reductions for certain goods and pay raises for the officials themselves. If Orb is to be governed, it should rightfully be by lawfully elected citizens of Orb, not appointed foriegn occupiers who do not have the interests of Orb or it's people at heart. An open election, without favoritism or censure must be held within five days from now to elect a new, rightful governing body for Orb." Cagalli knew that was a spiky ball to swallow for the EA... good, she hoped a few of them choked to death on it. _Only one more demand to go and then it's time to rip this party wide open._ She was just about to continue when a commotion suddenly broke out behind her, where her friends were standing.

"Kira!" Lacus cried out, forewarned of the impending danger posed by the Mobile Suit that was descending almost unnoticed from the clouds above. Instead of singing, but not wanting to utterly release her hard won control of her Newtype abilities, Lacus had instead spent her time while Cagali spoke practicing the mind scan trick Katie had shown her a while ago. It was really hard to get much of a sense for the crowd, so tightly packed were they that all their images just blurred into a sea of multicolored lights, like a billion broken rainbows fallen to earth. Her detection range was already up to about a quarter mile... longer than Katie's was, though her mindvision was less accurate than Katie's... she could not discern Actives from Latents or Stumps... which was a funny word, almost derogatory in some ways, but she was learning to use it a little bit. Despite this, she had no trouble whatesoever identifying Cray when he entered her sphere of detection from above. She wasn't quite sure what his mind looked like to her... she'd cut herself off from the ability before she could get a good look, thankfully... it wasn't anything she wanted to remember. "Cray... above us!"

Kira spun and looked up, as did Athrun, Kisaka, Waltfeld and pretty much everyone else who'd heard Lacus's shout. There was no mistaking the Merciless... no other mobile suit any of them had ever seen was that big or carried that many weapons. The mobile suit was about three hundred meters up and descending rapidly, headed for a landing directly on the stage. "No... he can't mean to...!" Kisaka cried in anguish.

"Look at the size of that thing! It's a monster!" Dr. Simmons shouted, half frightened, half admiring. It was her first time seeing one of the new EA Gundams up close and personal... rather too up close now that she came to think of it, since it was growing uncomfortably larger by the second. She was impressed... of course without access to its design blueprints she could only guess at its capabilities, but to her the giant purple, black and silver machine almost seemed to embody the very essence of total war, with its massive weapons and oversized figure.

Kira wasted no time on words, he just grabbed Lacus by the wrist and ran for the side of the stage, followed closely by Waltfeld and Murrue. Outside of the Liberty there was absolutely nothing he could do against Cray and the Merciless... the best and only thing he could do was safeguard Lacus by getting her as far away as possible from the soon to be unleashed carnage. They had discussed emergency plans with Dr. Simmons and Kisaka early that morning... if ever a situation were to arise that would endanger their lives, they were to break and run for the nearest subway station. They were all provided with glow in the dark maps that would lead them back to the safe house they'd spent the night before at.

Athrun wasted no time either. Cagalli was still finishing up the fourth of five demands and had not yet looked up or realized the impending danger. The crowd was also mostly unaware, still focused intently on their young leader, though here and there an pointing arm was outflung towards the sky along with a cry of panic or outrage. There was no time to be polite... Athrun ran up behind Cagalli just as she was turning back to figure out what all the noise was about and picked her up bodily in his arms, throwing them both forward and off the stage in a half jump-half dive. Kisaka was right at his heels, pulling Dr. Simmons along like a kite on a string. TEMPEST stayed together, moving after Kira and Lacus in a group, trying to watch both the crowd and the sky for danger. The Merciless dropped out of the sky like a meteor and landed directly on the stage, crushing the improvised structure under its feet and striking the ground hard enough to send out a small tremor that knocke people to the ground for a dozen meters in every direction. By now the entire crowd was shouting, gesticulating and beginning to shudder as some people tried to flee while others stood their ground and shook their fists angrily at the Earth Alliance war machine that had dropped out of the sky.

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"He cannot be serious!" Sgt-Major Glory shouted, looking out the main door of the Orb Palace, behind which the Alpha and Bravo teams of the Hellhounds, along with Asmodeus sark and Zacharis Frost, were prestaging themselves, waiting for the crowd to disperse enough to deploy their attack.

"Think about the name of that mobile suit... Mr. Zunnichi does not make jokes." Asmodeus said coldly, peering under the man's massive arm at the scene. "The Merciless..."

"But if he attacks the crowd it will be a slaughter the likes of which the world hasn't seen since the death camps of the Nazi's and Russians!" Glory protested. "Tens of thousands are going to be trampled to death in the panic, not even considering the damage done by the weapons! We're in the middle of a fully occupied city... unleashing the Merciless is the act of a man who is either utterly soulless or completely insane!"

"It is not your place to question the why's or wherefores of Cervantes's strategies, Sergeant-Major." Asmodeus fixed the much bigger man with his icy gaze. "You are a soldier... the sanity or ethics of your superiors is not your concern at this time. Just concentrate on the mission and if you have concerns afterwards you can address them to me."

"Concentrate on the mission!? While hundreds of thousands if not millions of innocent civilians are massacred in front of my eyes while exercising their lawfully granted right to express themselves peacefully!?" Glory retorted, incredulous. "I'll admit, sir, I'm not a very nice man. I kill people for a living... some of them don't really deserve their fates, like those protest planners we ganked. I can live with that... I don't think I can live with just standing idly by and watching millions of people killed because our boss has had what looks like a panic attack!"

"If it really upsets you so much, by all means, go out and do your best to stop it." Asmodeus said pointedly. He looked at the quad tube surface to surface missile launcher slung over Glory's back, next to the six barrel 5mm gatling gun. "I think you may need to get some bigger guns though." Asmodeus himself was armed with his rapier, a knife, his custom pistol and a pump action 12 gauge shotgun taken from the palace armory. Like all of his subordinates he wore distinctive dark and light grey urban camouflage combat armor, with the randomly arrange orange splotches that distinguished a Hellhound uniform from any other military uniform. Glory did not move, though he did shoot Asmodeus a disgusted scowl. "It doesn't particularly please me either, Glory, but I am first and foremost a soldier, secondly a Hellhound and thirdly a member of Blue Cosmos, just like you. In none of those job descriptions is humanity or pity one of the assumed qualities. Soldier up and deal with it."

Glory only backed down when Cyprus put a hand on his big friend's shoulder and led him back over to where the rest of team Alpha was doing their third or fourth personal weapons and equipment check. "Sir, you can't tell me you're going along with this madness!?" Glory whispered urgently. Cyprus shook his head. "We should do something to stop this!" Glory watched his friend's eyes... the liquid grey eyes the color of unpainted steel armor that were far more eloquent than most people were speaking out loud. He watched them flicker ever so briefly towards Asmodeus and Bravo team, then lingered for a second or two on Zacharis Frost, who was lounging in a chair a bit further back into the foyer, apparently uninterested in them all, before the gaze finally returned to Glory. "It's not the time or the place, is it?" Glory asked, realizing he'd been pushing the boundary more than he should have. Cyprus nodded agreement.

"Later... now we're Hellhounds, breathing flames at our "master's" command." Cyprus whispered back. "We cannot save those people... we can prevent something like this from ever happening again though... as long as Sai lives, we have hope."

"Aye, sir." Glory acknowledged before turning back to the men of their squad. There was Corporals Ramierez and Dekameron, the scouts... Corporals Bass and Mr. Lily, snipers... PFC's Khan, Gomer, Finley and Wayard, all members of the tactical team... Sergeant Hawley the intel spook and comm man... Sergeant Quentin the demolitionist and PFC Argrave the driver. Plus Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory and Lieutenant Cyprus Finch. Glory gazed at them with pride... tried and true soldiers, each of them men he had served with for more than three years now. They were like family to him and he to they, though no one would ever admit it. If he was to go into a battle he did not believe in, there was no better company to do it in. Though the men had already checked themselves multiple times, Glory inspected them again, having nothing better to do to occupy his time or his mind.

All of the Hellhounds were armed with specialized urban warfare weapons designed and produced soley by a small subsidary of CWM. The weapon was the CWM-17 mk II "Gladius", and it consisted of a 4.26mm hypervelocity assault rifle with a shortened barrel and silencer/flash supressor that had a magazine of fifty caseless (being bullets encased in a small block of chemical propellant) rounds mounted over an 8 gauge pump action shotgun loaded with five solid slugs. The weapon came standard with an infared telescopic sight and a data jack that could plug into the helmets/gask masks the Hellhounds wore, linking the scope to their helmet optics, allowing them to zoom in to 50x magnification and look around corners just by sticking the gun around the corner or blinking a command. For backup each man carried a combat knife made by the same company that manufactured the Armor-Schnieder mobile suit warknife, as well as a 10mm "Raptor" pistol, just like the one Cyrpus had loaned to Sai. Also, each person carried several grenades, mostly concussion (flashbangs) or tear gas... fragmentary and HE being too prone to friendly fire accidents. The scouts also had 750,000 volt taser guns with a range of five meters for taking people alive. The finishing touch came in the form of their helmets, which had teflon coated inserts that transformed the combination gas masks/face shields/HUD's into masks with the visages of snarling dogs from the pits of hell, with glowing red camera optic eyes and shiny reflective teeth in slightly elongated snouts. Glory privately thought the helmets were a bit overboard for professional soldiers to be using, but they were undeniably useful for intimidation tactics. At the moment each man had their mask's up, resting on their heads.

After inspecting the troops, Glory inspected himself. He looked at his own weapon selection and sighed, knowing he'd have to change it out before long... a missile launcher and gatling gun would be more hindrance than help in up close and personal urban warfare. Almost regretfully he slung a Gladius over the same shoulder as the gatling gun, shifting the weapons around so the smaller gun was on the bottom. A sudden thought occured to him and he turned to the Lieutenant. "Sir... what about... that?" he jerked his head at Frost. "I've read about him but... I don't know. How does he fit into the plan?"

"You let me go first and pray I won't find the time to kill you too." Frost replied from across the room. Glory started, having thought that the small dark haired bio-weapon couldn't hear him from so far away... he'd barely been whispering. Frost patted the hilts of the six combat knives he had equipped himself with... all of his specialized weapons were locked up and currently unavailable... in the panic the scientists had forgotten to unlock the secure vault for him. "Just you all remember... if any one of you so much as takes a potshot at Pink, you will beg for death before I'm done with you."

"Pink?" Glory asked, unsure he'd heard that right.

"Lacus Clyne." Asmodeus clarified, still watching outside. Cray had yet to open fire, apparently just basking in the moment as the crowds struggled and surged around his feet. "I'll make it an order and a strong recommendation... you see pink hair, you stop firing. You've all been briefed on what Frost can do... I assure you, the reports do not exaggerate." Glory was about to reply when the sound of weapons discharge from outside made verbal communication impossible.

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"My, my, my... look at all the little targets!" Cray mused, scanning around and around. For almost three quarters of a mile in any direction he could not make out the ground for all the people standing shoulder to shoulder and front to back. It had been about two minutes since he'd landed and he was still basking in the hate and fear he could practically taste wafting up from the sea of people around him. The remains of the hastily built wooden stage crunched under his feet as he slowly shifted the Merciless's weight back and forth, like a child eagerly anticipating a gift. He leaned forward, a shark like grin on his face as the novelty of just standing there and looking fearsome began to wear thin. He needed blood and he needed a lot of it... to get him back into stride after his unexpected defeat in Panama. He caressed the triggers for his shoulder gatlings as he declined the torso downwards to bring the crowd fully within his aim. For an ever so brief instant the entire crowd went silent, as if praying that what they all knew was about to occur would not happen. If their prayer's reached the ears of any deity, that being must have been terribly busy elsewhere, because nothing prevented Cray from gleefully mashing down the triggers.

Forty 120mm high explosive shells sprayed out of the guns in the first second the triggers were hit, and an equal amount were fired in every subsequent second that Cray held down the triggers as he walked the path of high explosive death along a three hundred meter long and thirty meter wide run starting thirty meters in front of the Merciless and heading straight back. Each shell detonated in a flash of fire and concussion that hurled bodies... and small pieces of bodies twenty or more feet into the air, assuming it didn't just vaporize them completely. The first three seconds of the catastrophe saw more than twenty thousand people killed, packed in like sardines, unable to run or dodge the fire in any way. After Cray let up on his triggers there was almost a half minute of stunned silence as people around the world stared aghast at the devastation. Then the screaming started... a high pitched wail that could be heard for miles, the ululating fear shrieks of millions upon millions of people in sudden fear for their lives. The scale of the stampede was beyond belief as the ocean of humanity surged away from the Merciless, crushing and trampling thousands as the crowds all sought to flee the government district at the same time, though only a few thousand at a time could fit through the streets and buildings that surrounded the district.

Laughter boomed from the external speakers of the Merciless as it's torso swiveled back and forth, arms spread and seeking new targets. Cray used his multi-target system to denote four seperate targets on the ground, one for the gatlings, another for the chest beam cannons, the third for the anti-armor shotgun and the last for the hyper impluse cannons. Without a second thought, he cut loose again and again, puasing only long enough for his weapons to charge or reload. The gatlings scoured another hundred meter stretch of ground into a wasteland of corpses and craters, while the anti-armor shotgun rounds vaporized a section of crowd twenty meters square. Whenever a beam blast touched down people turned into instant ash or mist if they were lucky and were directly in the path of the beam... those who were unlucky were merely nearby and were instead flash burned instantly to the bone over ninety percent of their bodies, their clothes flaring up like matches as they danced in runnels of their own melting skin and fat. Perhaps most fortunate of all deaths was that suffered by those that were nearby when the twin hyper impulse beams touched down... they never felt a thing as a stretch of ground ten meters wide by five hundred long turned to a solid glass trench five meters deep in an instant, undermining the base of a forty story hotel that collapsed downwards, crushing hundreds beneath its crumbling masonry.

Cray took a long stride forward, chasing the largest concentration of people as they attempted to scatter and flee before him. "Explosions... I have to have more explosions!" he chanted under his breath. Noting the fall of the hotel he decided to raise his point of aim slightly. His next volley of gatling shells and anti-armor shotgun rounds blew out the lower portions of two more skyscrapers, sending thousands of tons of concrete and rubble tumbling to the ground in massive clouds of dust which quickly obscured that entire portion of the city. "It's like shooting fish in a barrel... I haven't had this much fun in months!" He turned, scanning from side to side, slowly marching after the largest concentration of people pouring down one of the main highways that led into the government district, fleeing like ants before an angry god. "You won't get away that easily... I feel like I'm in a Godzilla movie... playing the part of Godzilla... heh heh!"

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"I'm launching!" Ysak shouted the instant he saw the Merciless land. He stood up so quickly that Katie's fingernails left bloody scratches down his back and sides. He ignored the slight pain, the sight of one of the people he hated most in the world searing his heart with rage. He threw on his flight suit in a matter of seconds as Katie dived for her computer, tapping rapid commands and requests up to the bridge. There was a sensation of movement as the Archangel began to rise to the surface in order to launch the mobile suits.

"Damn it! Right in the middle of a crowded city!" Dearka swore as he hurried to zip up his own flight suit. "Even for Blue Cosmos, that's low! Those people are helpless! How could anyone condone such a thing?"

"I don't know." Miriallia said in a small voice with a slight tremor... this was the city she had grown up in, until she was ten and her parents moved to Heliopolis. She watched in helpless fury as the Merciless lived up to its name once more, attacking the unarmed and peaceful protesters violently and without cease, mowing them down by the thousand as they struggled to flee. She felt physically sick at the sight and could not stop herself from retching up the lunch-snack she'd eaten a few hours earlier as she watched, along with most of the rest of the world and the PLANTS as bodies were pulped, burned, tossed and shattered by the Merciless's weapons in full living color on the TV screen. Dearka came over and put his arms around her comfortingly.

"You going to be okay?' he asked, concerned.

Miriallia shook her head. "No, I'm not going to be okay... I might know some of those people from when I grew up. I'm not going to be okay until we kill that son a bitch there on the screen!" she pointed vehemently at the Merciless.

"We'll do it good and proper this time, Mir." Dearka promised. "We took his measure at Panama and now he's got us all pissed at him. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." she replied, giving him a solid kiss. "Let's go show them the meaning of hell on earth."

Ysak was already strapped in to the Duelist's cockpit and conducting his preflight checklist when dearka's voice at last crackled over the comm. Ysak's mouth was still smarting from the kiss Katie had given him on his way out the door and though he didn't know it, his eyes were tearing up slightly at the corners. "You ready, Ysak?" Dearka asked. Ysak smiled wickedly.

"What do you think? It is payback time and this time he doesn't have his friends to help him. His ass is mine."

"His ass is OURS." Miriallia corrected. "That's my home town he's destroying... if you want to kill him you're going to have to be spot on perfect, cause Dearka and I aren't going to quit until he's dead, dead, DEAD!" there was a short silence across the comm line, broken only by a slight ripple of static. "Geez, Mir, psycho much?" Ysak heard Dearka comment through Miriallia's comm channel. He himself was endeavoring to collect his agape jaw... he'd never suspected there was a side like this to Miriallia... she'd always seemed the calm, innocent and perpetually reserved person... how she was champing at the bit as much as he was, if not more so. "Don't give me that, Dearka. Think of it this way, how would you react if we were in Aprilus city right now? How calm would you be?"

"She's right." Ysak said shortly. He forced himself to calm down, to think with his mind, not his rage. He'd gone with rage last time and it had landed him in a hospital bed for a week... he was not eager to repeat the experience. "We should all be outraged. But we have to work together and keep control of ourselves too." the line was silent again.

"I am talking to Ysak right?" Dearka asked, his voice slightly surprised. "Mr. I Can Take Panama By Myself?"

"Shut up, Dearka. I've learned my lesson." Ysak retorted. "I let my anger get the better of me then and I only narrowly escaped death... thanks in large part to you and Miriallia. If we let our anger control how we fight this bastard, he's going to take us apart, because that's how he fights... we'd be playing his game. We have to have a plan... you and I have to work together, just like we did back when we'd just stolen the Duel and the Buster."

"Don't forget about me... I've got a whole ream of data on the Merciless... since this is now what... the third or fourth time we've fought it? I've been collecting combat data from everyone's Gundams after each fight and compiling it in my spare time" Miriallia spoke up. "I've got ammunition estimates for his guns, recharge times on his beam weapons, even his theoretical maximum flight speed and turning ratio. I've got detailed scans of his armor layout and strong guestimates on the locations for a lot of his vital systems."

"Excellent. Send me that data. You have maps of the city?" Ysak replied. Miriallia made a tsking sound... instead of answering him, one of his secondary screens just lit up with a street level layout of the entire city, with a glowing red dot denoting their enemy already highlighted on it.

"Don't be alarmed, Ysak... I'm slaving your sensors to the LRR and Vari-Camera Array on the Grand Buster." Miriallia said. "Now you can see what we see and vice versa... it should come in handy for city fighting." she continued as more of his secondary screens momentarily blanked out and then turned back on, now showing a much clearer and better defined picture of the surrounding area. "We're looking through the Archangel's sensors right now, but the quality should remain roughly the same after we launch."

"Grand Buster... Duelist... the Archangel has just surfaced. Opening hanger doors and deploying linear catapults. Stand by for launch." Katie's voice crackled over their speakers. Ysak immediately checked over his systems one last time, finding everything green. He stepped forward and let the hangar launch systems lock the Duelist's feet into the linear catapult. Dearka did similarly in the other hanger.

"Ysak Jule, in the Duelist... ready for launch."

"Dearka Elsman, the Grand Buster, armed and waiting." Sunlight spilled inside from the rapidly opening hangar doors and the sounds and smells of the sea rapidly filled the interior of the ship as it floated just above the surface of the water. With a hiss of hydraulics the linear catapult systems reached their final launch power. There was a brief pause.

"We've received word from Captain Ramius and Colonel Kisaka... they escaped from the government district before the Merciless began its attack. They've reached the subway system and are headed back to the safe house underground. Everyone is alive and safe. Message from Captain Vladimir Valkavich: Now is the time to be soldiers, not assassins. End of message. You may launch when ready." Katie told them.

"What the hell is Vlad talking about?" Dearka asked.

"Don't worry about it, he wasn't talking to you." Ysak replied. "Ysak Jule, Duelist, launching!" _Be safe and come back to me!_ Katie's last goodbye echoed in his mind. "There's no where else I'd rather be." he whispered as the acceleration slammed him back into his seat.

"Dearka Elsman... Miriallia Haw, Grand Buster, taking off!" they were both slammed back by the acceleration as well... you got used to it. The two mobile suits, one blue and grey the other tan and green, soared off together towards the smoke and dust clouds rising from the otherwise peaceful city by the sea, like ancient heroes setting out to combat the monsters of the nether dark.

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Asmodeus snatched up the ringing phone and listened for a few seconds, a wolfish grin spreading across his features. He unconsciously nodded a few times. "Yes, thank you for the information, Staff Sergeant. I'll remember you for the future. Good work, keep it up. Captain Sark, out." he hung up the phone. "Our quarry has been spotted. True to Lieutenant Finch's estimation, they fled to a hidey hole. I've just received word from one of the isolated squads of infantry still dispersed through the city that a group of people escorting two young females perfectly matching the descriptions of Cagalli Yula Attha and Lacus Clyne were seen not three minutes ago entering a subway terminal. Maps of the subway system are being routed to your HUD's as we speak. The targets entered the system at the Nara Attha Memorial station here in the government district. Team's Alpha and Bravo will enter from that point, along with Frost and myself. Team Charlie will move six blocks north and enter from the Hameya station in the business district. Team Delta will do similarly six blocks south, at the Mall station. The trains themselves are being deactivated as we speak, so the fugitives should be on foot. Does everyone understand the mission parameters?"

"Seek and destroy." Lieutenant Howard said with a grin.

"Terminate with extreme prejudice." Lieutenant Davisson added.

"Survive to fight another day..." Glory whispered to Cyprus.

"All right, Hellhounds. Commo check!" Asmodeus ordered. "Check sat... check sat... check sat... sat here." came the four replies from the team leaders. "Masks!" Asmodeus called, reaching up with one hand to pull his helmet down over his face... his was unique in that his hound head had devil's horns on its head. With a near simultaneous "snap-click" fifty two other mask-helmets followed his example, locking into place over the faces of the elite team members. The sound of filtered breathing surussed throughout the room as Asmodeus looked around, his eyes adjusting to the slight red tint his goggle lenses lent everything. He looked over his men one last time... standing in ranks with weapons held tight, masks down they looked like an army of demons from the pits of hell, glowing red eyes baleful in hideously masked faces. His heart swelled with pride... truly it was a great honor to be a part of this group, much less its leader. The icon boxes for each squad turned from red to green on the HUD projected onto his left eye... all final systems checks were complete. He looked down at his sleeve, where the flexible LCD screen attached to his inner forearm flickered to life, showing detailed maps of the Orb subway system.

"Loose the dogs of war and let there be hell to pay for our foes!" Asmodeus cried.

"Loose the dogs!" they cried back at him as they hurried in ordered groups out the door and headed off at a lope towards their assigned positons. "Let there be hell to pay!"


	73. The Day Of, part 2

The kids were ahead of them, with Kisaka, Waltfeld and Ramius, along with Dr. Simmons. _Good. This is no longer their fight._ Alkire thought grimly as he slowed from a jog to a walk. The other four members of TEMPESt also slowed, letting the "civilians" get farther and farther ahead, down the nearly pitch black subway tunnels that would eventually lead them back to the safe house deep underground. He slipped his LAG's (Light Amplification Goggles) down over his eyes, turning the tunnel from a cave into a well lit passageway, albeit one with green highlights. He adjusted the fit of the almost full face helmet, biting down into the hard rubber mouthpiece of the air filter that would keep him from inhaling smoke, gas and other debilitating things while fighting. Made of a kevlar base and coated with teflon and other advanced plastic polymers he did not know the name of, the helmets provided excellent skull protection, strong enough to deflect most types of small arms fire at distances of ten meters or more. Closer than that and it became slightly iffy, iffier the closer the shooter was to you. The helmets also incorporated a HUD and short range communication system that even worked underground through the use of low frequency waves. While wearing the helmet you looked like a bug eyed alien, but looks were not the important thing.

"Suit up, everyone." Alkire ordered, prompting his unit to pull on their helmets as well. The sound of their breathing, double filtered through the gas masks echoed strangely through the tunnel for a few seconds until they each adjusted their breathing cycles to eliminate the noise. "All right..." Alkire said after everyone was ready and silent. "We all know that patrol of soldiers saw us come down here and it's no fool's bet that they recognized Lacus and Cagalli. They'll have called in the sighting by now and that means one thing. They're going to be coming in after us. They couldn't kill Cagalli or Lacus in public, in front of all those people and especially on live TV, but down here in the tunnels anything could happen. I don't know who they're sending, but like I said before, expect the worst. EFSOU is a given I think, and they might even scrape up one of the Hellhound teams. Asmodeus is supposed to be here too, so watch yourselves... he's a canny snake, I don't need to remind you. They will almost certainly outnumber us by a significant margin... at least seven or eight to one, I'd think."

"Long odds." James commented.

"Target rich environment." Raine countered with a flick of her head. Alkire smiled... his thinking exactly.

"We have the advantage of home ground... I hope you all spent as much time studying the subway maps last night as I did. We also have the advantage of a head start and being able to wait in ambush. Victor, what can you set up in the next five to ten minutes?"

"That depends on how much collateral damage you want." Victor replied seriously. "Between the two of us, Vlad and I have a seriously nasty book of tricks and traps we could potentially set up." Alkire considered that, looking around at the environment.

"Say collateral damage isn't an issue. With the Merciless up there I don't think a few wrecked subway tunnels are going to hurt many people's feelings when everything is said and done." he told them. He couldn't see Victor's smile behind his helmet, but he could imagine it from the sound of his voice.

"Roger that, Major, sir! Vlad, I'm gonna need a bag of that metal grit, a roll of tape and a big ball of blackened silk twine! Let's get going!" Victor said cheerfully, clapping Vlad on the shoulder. Vlad nodded and set off after the german, his footsteps utterly noiseless on the hard ground, his form disappearing into the shadows long before Victor did. Alkire watched them go and shivered slightly... he pitied the poor bastards who got to run into Vlad down here... the tunnels were a natural killing ground, full of dark nooks and crannies and alcoves for the killer to hide in.

"Raine, you're with me. We'll lay a couple of shoot and sprint ambushes here... here... and here." Alkire decided, marking three points on the tunnel system where the tunnels narrowed slightly while traveling on slight declines. "James, I want you to find yourself a solid positon at this tunnel junction here." Alkire tapped a point on his map where three of the five major subway routes under the city came together as one. The junction was actually an automated switching station, where trains from one line could be switched onto different tracks if need be. It was shut down now, just like the rest of the trains, but it was likely to become a major focusing point for this fight, as the maintenance tunnels leading to the safe house originated there. "We're going to be fighting a lot of retreating battles and we're going to need heavy support once we leave the tunnels in order to make it to the maintenance passages in one piece."

"You got it. Ramsgoth precision fire support at your service, Major." James nodded a salute before heading off into the tunnel in the direction the kids had gone at a lope. Raine waited for him to get fully out of earshot before she spoke up.

"What are our chances, do you think?" she asked, not using the radio, her voice slightly distorted by the mask mouthpiece. Alkire grinned.

"Chances of what? Survival? Medium to high. If these guys really are EFSOU then we'll have an even bigger advantage... I trained with some of them probably, I know how they think."

"Doesn't that work in reverse though? Won't they know how you think?" she asked as they walked towards their first ambush point.

"Babe, nobody knows how I think." she considered that and then nodded.

"I suppose you're right." Raine paused a moment. "I just can't shake this feeling of doom."

"It's just a case of the gribblies. You'll get over it when the bullets start flying." Alkire replied easily, using one of many names for pre-combat stress.

"Yeah... you're right." Raine said slowly. At least she hoped he was.

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"Entry accomplished." Ramierez commed, standing at the bottom of the stairs of the Nara Attha Memorial station. The station was clear and empty and dark, though his HUD cut through it an lit it up like daylight. It took a while getting used to the red tinge, but after years in the Hellhounds, he barely noticed it anymore. Followed by Dekameron, he ghosted through the station, slipping around bits of trash and grit on the ground almost instinctively to cut down on noise. There was nothing like the adrenaline rush of being the first into the fight, the first to find danger, the first to engage the enemy. That's why he was so happy he was a scout... he got off on situations like these. "It's clear." upon the second comm there came the muted sound of many pairs of boots rushing down the stairs... barely audible to most people and easily dismissed as background noise, but Ramierez wasn't a scout just cause he wanted to be... he had just about the sharpest senses in the entire unit, though he still felt he lagged the Lieutenant slightly.

Asmodeus was the third man down the stairs, followed closely by Frost, who needed no goggles to make out his surroundings. He looked around, performing his own check though he knew that if Ramierez hadn't seen anything then he wasn't likely to either... the man had eyes twenty years sharper than Asmodeus's. "Do you hear anything, Frost?" he asked the BCPU, who had the sharpest senses of anyone there.

"What makes you think I would tell you if I did?" Frost replied sullenly... he didn't like hunting in packs and compared to him the elite Hellhounds seemed as loud as a bus full of schoolkids. "You seem to be operating under the mistaken impression that I give a damn about you and this mission."

"If you're so smart..." Glory started to say before a hand on his shoulder choked him off.

"If you feel we're impeding you, by all means, skip on ahead of us, Zacharis." Asmodeus said tiredly. "Just don't count on us coming to save you."

"I'm the last person who would ever need saving." Frost retorted, heading over to a small hatch in one of the walls of the station. With a slight grunt of effort the BCPU tore the solid steel cover plate off the wall and tossed it aside. "I'll try and save some of the fun for you losers." he said mockingly before crawling head first into what looked like a maintenance chute for automated repair units, the passage wasn't more than two feet on a side and crowded with heavy cabling and pipes.

"He's crazy if he think's he'll make much progress through there... you'd have to be practically boneless to make any sort of speed through that chute." Ramierez commented.

"You could have just stopped with "He's crazy" and have said enough." Asmodeus replied. "Though I wouldn't doubt him... Frost has quite the drive to get to the fugitives... he really has it in for Lacus Clyne." He looked pointedly at the tunnel opening ahead of them. "Enough talk, we have a mission to accomplish."

Ramierez and Dekameron hopped down onto the tracks, which were de-energized thankfully. Slowly, they forged ahead into the tunnel, keeping a good ten meters distance between them and the rest of the unit so that even if they hit an ambush it wouldn't catch more than a few of them at once. Behind them came twenty five of the finest soldiers in the EA, all armed to the teeth and ready for anything. Or so they thought. Five minutes after entering the tunnel Ramierez clicked his tongue once and held up a fist to indicate a stop. "You see it as well?" he asked Dekameron on their private channel, pointing carefully at a pile of refuse wedged between two of the mounting bolts for the primary track. Dekameron nodded... it wasn't a pile of refuse but a cunningly disguised bundle of plastic explosives. "Quentin, front and center, we got a booby trap." Ramierez called. They were joined moments later by the explosive's expert, who noticed the bomb almost as fast as Ramierez had. Quentin studied the package for a few moments.

"Tactile sensitive trigger... good thing you didn't touch it. Standard plastique. Looks like about an eighth of a kilo. I think theres some metallic bits embedded in it... shrapnel. Blast radius is about eight meters, deadly to about 1.5 times that." he said calmly. He marked the location of the bomb with a piece of infared reflective tape in the form of an arrow. "Just don't step anywhere within a half meter of it and it won't go off. It would take me too long to disarm it, the tactile ones are tricky."

"Understood. Progressing." Ramierez said, moving carefully past the bomb, staying well clear. He didn't get ten feet before he spotted two more... which Quentin immediately identified as identical to the first one. What Quentin did not see was the strings of blackened silk twine that ran carefully underneath the primary rail line, connecting each of the three bombs to a trip wire ten meters further down the passageway. The thin black twine was almost invisble to the naked eye and was completely invisible to infared vision. It wasn't until Ramierez stepped OVER the wire that he noticed it. "Aww, hell." he muttered, looking down at the tripwire he was straddling. "Quentin, I think we got a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Quentin asked from a few paces back. Ramierez took his time in answering, straining his eyes to look ahead into the tunnel. What he saw was scary enough to render him speechless for a moment.

"We got tripwires. Lots of tripwires." Ramierez said with awe, looking at a veritable spider's web of thin black threads, visible only as they stirred slightly in the musty damp air of the tunnel due to some tiny air draft. There must have been at least a dozen of them, set at varying heights ranging from head high to waist high to ankle high, with several sloping down at diagnals and many of them looped around each other. His keen eye soon started picking out the bombs the strings were attached to... each identical to the three they had already seen. The entire tunnel for at least twenty meters looked to be mined. He mentally applauded the enemy... it would have been no easy feat setting something like this up in the ten or fifteen minutes it had taken the Hellhounds to arrive on scene. Quentin took a bag of fine grained powder from a pouch and dumped some in his hand, then used a small airgun to blow it out in front of Ramierez in a fine cloud of sparkly white dust.

"Shit." Quentin commented, as the dust settled on the twine and revealed it for them all to see.

"Victor..." Asmodeus hissed to himself. "You crafty bastard." All the Hellhounds were staring forward at the fiendish trap in front of them... set off one bomb and they would all go off. It would not be quick or easy getting through that tangle of traps, and while they did it they'd be extremely vulnerable. The two members of Bravo team slated to watch the rear kept at their job, but their attention was slightly divided... enough so that they missed the shadow that slipped out of concealment in a tiny nook in one tunnel wall. A whiplash blow from the side of Vlad's metallic hand crushed the throat and spine of the man on the left while his other hand gripped the man on the right and lifted him kicking frantically from the ground. A twitch of the metal fingers and the spine parted with nary a sound. Moving fast but with his trademark silence Vlad caught both bodies before they could hit the ground and carried them quickly out of sight around the bend before dumping them.

Lieutenant Davisson stepped forward along with three members of his tactical team and his own bomb expert. "We'll try and thread the mine field." he volunteered. Asmodeus nodded... it was dangerous but it was their only option if they wanted to keep moving forward. He motioned for everyone else to back up a good ten meters, almost back into the station proper. The bomb expert went first, ducking and contorting himself to avoid the glinting threads. Davisson followed afterwards, carefully copying his man's moves as exactly as possible. His tactical team came after him, repeating the process. It was slow, painful work, but finally Davisson joined his bomb expert on the far side of the web, breathing a sigh of relief that no hails of bullets had come screaming of the darkness ahead to decimate his men during the perilous crossing. "We're clear!" he reported, taking a single step further into the tunnel. A single step that placed his booted foot squarely through an invisible laser beam that was projected from a laser pointer half buried in the near wall. Beam interrupted, a simple circuit was activated, detonating a single pinch of plastic explosive that was adhereing a loose brick to the wall. There was barely a flash, just a slight bang and then the bricked dropped a whole three inches to the ground. It was two point five inches farther than needed, for the string of black twine tied to the brick went taut after the first half inch. This single line was attached to two other lines, which in turn each looped around two more and so forth and so on. Within a quarter second of the brick falling, all the strings went taut at once.

Lieutenant Davisson and his four men disappeared in a storm of brick dust, fire and bouncing metal shards as fifteen home-made claymore mines went off at once. When the dust finally settled there wasn't a scrap of human left bigger than the palm of your hand. There was some rubble on the ground, but the tunnel had not collapsed. Asmodeus hesitated only a moment. "We go on. Carefully."

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"Major, they have triggered the first trap." Victor reported as he made the finishing touches to the third set of traps he and Vlad had laid. The sounds of the mulitple detonations were like music to his ears.

"Good work, Victor. How many did you get?" Alkire replied.

"Good question, the trap was designed to take out a good twenty meter section, but I doubt they all fell for it. Five... six, maybe?" Victor replied. "Vlad should be able to give you a better report on their numbers, if he ever reports in."

"Understood. Keep at it, Victor." Alkire said. He turned to another channel. "Can you hear me, Vlad?" there was a long wait and then a double tongue click. "Can't talk eh? You're behind them, you slick bastard, aren't you?" Another double click. "When you can find a moment, I'd like a report on numbers and idents." Double click. "Talk to you later Vlad. Out."

Vladimir stalked the Hellhounds through the tunnels, staying a good ten or fifteen feet back from their rearguard. It hadn't taken them long to discover that an additional two of their number were missing, and now the rearguard stood at four in number. He smiled as they watched him... they were good, but he was better. They moved with precision, speed and silence... he made the shadows look loud. He would wait for the nonce... they were coming up on the second set of traps. His smile grew wider as he passed a barely visible discoloration on the ground... one of a score of patches of nearly translucent double sided tape he and Victor had placed and salted with metallic grit and dust. Not dangerous in itself, the grit was just a catalyst for the real trap, which was smeared on the three steel rails. This time the tripwires were already taut, the tension in them being the only thing keeping the small clusters of impact fused bomblets from dropping from ceiling. It had been tricky, hanging by one arm from the ceiling while setting it up, but his mechanical arms made it possible where a flesh and blood human would have faltered and died. When a soldier next put a booted foot on the rail the grit on their boots that would have stuck there from the tape would spark on the steel rail. The spark would ignite the highly flammable resin smeared almost molecule thin on the rails, which would ignite the similarly coated threads, turning them to ash and releasing the tension on the bomblet wires.

There! He saw one of the rearguard place his foot on the center rail for a moment, the boot sliding on the resin, the grit striking sparks. There was another brief flash, almost faster than the eye could track. Some of the Hellhounds reacted instinctively, throwing themselves to the sides of the tunnel. More than a quarter did not and paid the price for being slow as a half dozen baseball sized pieces of plastic explosive rained down from the ceiling, their outer surfaces pebbly with small ball bearings. Upon hitting the ground a frail glass bulb shattered, causing mercury inside to flow one sixtyfourth of an inch and complete a circuit. The bomblets went off with hardly any smoke, just massive flashes and the pinging of hundreds of red hot ball bearings bouncing off bricks. The balls made no sound as they passed through human flesh... at the speeds they were moving, anything less dense that stone was barely an impediment at all. Three of the rearguard had managed to avoid the bomb, though they were now staring ahead, aghast at the sight of their unfortunate comrades. Vlad slipped up behind the last one in line and looped the matte black chain garotte wire over the man's throat. A twist of the handles locked the chain around the throat, cutting into the skin to prevent the victim from pulling it away and avoiding the crushing pressure on the windpipe. A quick yank and the strangle was complete, all he had to do was hold it for a minute or two while the man suffocated. He dragged the man backwards, pulling them both into the shadows while he waited. The other two never even looked back, having heard nothing.

The remaining Hellhounds and Asmodeus quickly recovered from their scare and pushed on after only a few seconds hesitation. Vlad frowned, doing a quick count. Fourteen, plus Asmodeus. There had been two teams initially, for a total of twenty six plus Asmodeus. They were whittling them down pretty good, but if they were still pressing on now that too said a few things. This group could not be the only group down here now, there must be at least as many again of them somewhere else in the subway tunnels for Asmodeus to be advancing with such confidence. Vlad let the enemy pass around the next bend before activating his radio and contacting Alkire.

"God damn it!" Alkire swore under his breath after receiving the report from Vlad. Raine looked at him inquisitively from across the tunnel, dug into an alcove that she'd shored up with some loose bricks to form a more complete position. "Hellhounds. Lots of Hellhounds. And Asmodeus is here in person." he informed her. "Victor and Vlad have whittled them down pretty good, but there's only one trap left between them and us. Victor should be joining us any minute now. And Vlad say's that it's likely there are other EA soldiers down here too, given how Asmodeus keep's pressing forward. Damn it, why does it have to be the Hellhounds?" Raine suddenly snapped into a ready position when she saw someone coming down the tunnel towards them, she relaxed after seeing it was Victor, though it took her an extra second to recognize him because he no long bore the heavy backpacks jammed with explosives. He moved past her at a brisk walk before taking up a position himself on Alkire's wall where he could cover them both.

"One trap to go, eh, Majors?" he said affably. "I don't think 'Deus enjoyed my earlier traps and he's really going to hate the last one... it's a real stinker Vlad showed me."

Alkire ignored the german for the moment. "James, you hear me?" Double click. "Be warned, the Hellhounds are the bad guys, and theres a full boat of them down here. Just be sure to stay extra sharp... these guys don't play around." _Course, neither do we._

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Cyprus had joined Ramierez and Dekameron at the front now. He was frowning... this mission had already cost the lives of too many good men. Argrave and Hawley hadn't jumped fast enough when the last trap was triggered and they were now lying in bloody tatters back the tunnel a ways. And Corporal Lily, who'd been assigned to the rear guard, was just plain gone. He did not respond to radio calls and his helmet beacon did not appear on their HUD's. No one had seen him go, but gone he was. Alpha team had never suffered such serious casualties before... and they'd gotten off lightly compared to the mauled Bravo team, who had lost all of their senior men and were down to just four personnel. Charlie and Delta teams had reported no signs of resistance and were advancing swiftly towards a primary rail junction about three hundred meters further down the tunnel from his current position. Cyprus crept forward in a crouch, eyes scanning back and forth along the ground very carefully, determined not to miss another devious trap. Dekameron watched from waist to chin height and Ramierez watched from chin height on up, their fields of vision overlapping slightly as an additional saftey measure. Much to his chagrin, it was Glory who actually noticed the next trap. Of course he hardly noticed it in an enviable manner.

"Uhm... sir?" Glory suddenly said. Cyprus froze and slowly looked back at his big friend, the tone of his voice all the clue he needed to realize something was seriously wrong. "I... I uh... stepped on this bolt here on the side of the rail... and it went "squish" and now theres this gooey white plastic stuff stuck to the bottom of my boot. I think it's some form of explosive." Quentin hurried over to his sergeant-major and knelt beside him, inspecting the indicated foot. The explosive's expert let out a low whistle of mixed admiration and constrenation.

"What is it, Quentin?" Glory asked sharply. Quentin shook his head for a moment. "WHAT IS IT, QUENTIN?" Glory asked again, gritting his teeth.

"I'm still working that out, sarge-major." Quentin replied. "It's homemade, whatever it is. Looks like some form of adhesive plastic explosive. Not only that, but the stuff is corrosive as hell... its eating through the bottom of your boot, sarge-major." Quentin got down on his hands and knees and promptly started swearing. "Whatever you do, don't lift your foot up, sarge-major."

"Why not? If this shit is eating through my boot it's really going to do a number on my foot!" Glory complained. Quentin looked up at him.

"That bolt you stepped on is now sitting on a trigger, holding a contact shut. There's at least six wires coming off this trigger contact. If you lift your foot up the bolt will rise and cut the circuit. Then we get a kablooie. And since the wires are going out and the up the wall farther than I can see, I would estimate that said kablooie would drop most of the roof for about fifty feet in both directions, if these bombs are at all like I think they are. Thats not to mention that your foot will probably get blown off by the glue-explosive too, along with a good section of railing... whatever that stuff is, I can smell the volatility through my mask. Of course, since you, me and most everyone else will have been crushed to death a few seconds later by tons of rubble, you won't have to worry about much pain, sarge-major."

"Quentin... do something about this! Now! My foot is starting to get warm!" Glory said, trying to stay calm.

"That would be a sure sign that your boot is beginning to melt, sarge-major." Quentin allowed. He dug through one of his pouches and pulled out a dental pick and a metal file, which he used to scrape industrially at the gooey explosive that he could see on Glory's boot. "I've gotten a lot of it off, but it's still eating through your boot from below, sarge-major. Now we get to the tricky part."

"How tricky?" Asmdoeus asked, staring up at the roof as if he was expecting it to fall any minute.

"Well, if I can get the file under sarge-major's boot in the exact spot where he's putting pressure on the bolt and apply pressure of my own, he should be able to lift his foot before the stuff eats through and from there I can disarm it easily enough. If I can't either sarge-major is going to have his foot corroded away, which would relieve the pressure and thus kablooie, or he'll jerk his foot off because of the pain, thus kablooie."

A sudden thought occured to Cyprus... it would leave too much to chance to have just a single bolt be the trigger for a trap, if not for bad luck, Glory would have passed right by it... it was too chancy. He dropped to his belly and looked under the rails. His suspicion was confirmed... there were contacts under every bolt he could see in both directions. Still, something wasn't right... relying on the bolts was still too chancy for a good trap. He belly crawled forward, keeping himself low so he could look at the underside of the rails. Finally he found it... a timer box. Just about the size of a TV remote, with a bunch of thin wires coming out of it. It was almost impossible to reach, but the numbers on it were easy enough to see... it was counting down from forty seconds right now. "If you're going to make an attempt, now would be the time." he radioed. "There's a second trigger, set on a timer... pressure or no pressure the roof is coming down in about thirty four seconds. Avoid stepping on any bolts... they're all trapped."

"I think I have it, sarge-major." Quentin said, working the file feverishly between the boot and the rail. "Lift your foot any time you're ready and pray to God in heaven I'm right." Glory closed his eyes, counted to two and jerked his foot up. There was no kablooie. "Right on the edge of it! Sometimes I scare myself." Quentin said cheerfully, weighting down the file after adjusting its position. "Now we run." They ran. They were just barely in time... they were still running when the timer reached zero and interrupted the current, sending simultaneous detonation signals to six different three kilogram blocks of explosives. The roof and upper walls exploded downwards with a roar, the pressure wave actually picking several Hellhounds up and throwing them down the tunnel for several meters. When the dust finally settled, the entire tunnel was buried behind them, though none of them were more than bruised.

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The explosive roar of the final trap being sprung echoed for miles underground. Alkire, Raine and Victor rode it out easily enough, since Victor knew to the second when the bombs would go off, having set the timer himself. Vlad also knew approximately when the bombs were going off... instead of following the Hellhounds he'd instead doubled back and was on the surface streets, heading for the next station closer to the junction when the street in front of him just dropped straight down into the ground, the result of the explosions. He managed to avoid the crumbling edges of the new trench, smiling grimly as he put on a burst of speed. He had to get ahead of them now to be effective. He looked around him at the city... this section, except for the new trench, was actually still in good condition. He could hear the sounds of a furious mobile suit battle not too far away though, and pillars of smoke and dust rising into the sky from other parts of the city proved that collateral damage was unavoidable when fighting with mobile suits on city streets.

About halfway down the maintenance tunnels between the switching junction and the safehouse, Cagalli had finally realized that the members of TEMPEST seemed to have gone off on their own sometime after they entered the subway. She cursed her lack of attention, but she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised... she'd been pretty shell shocked for a while there, dealing with the terrible images of the Merciless attacking the innocent crowds who'd gathered to support her. Athrun had had to practically carry her most of the way, but she'd been moving under her own power for the last five minutes or so. "Wait a minute? Where did Alkire go?" she asked suddenly. Before Athrun or anyone else could reply there came a rumble like a frieght train crossing a bridge just over their heads and dust shook itself loose from the ceiling. "And what the hell was that?"

"Sounded like about twenty kilos of HE." Kisaka replied, one hand on the wall. "Maybe a little less. Robert and company must have laid quite the trap if that much HE went off at once."

"You mean you knew they were gone and you didn't tell me?" Cagalli asked, her voice rising. She had had it up to here with being left out of the loop for her own protection.

"Calm down, princess." Kisaka said firmly. "This type of fight is one Robert and my other students have trained their entire lives to fight. They leave the mobile suit fighting to you, you should leave this fight to them."

"But...!"

"No, you cannot go help them." Kisaka cut her off sharply. He moved to block her way back down the tunnel with his body.

"I'm ordering you to get out of the way!" Cagalli said sternly... she was going to help Alkire and company... she wasn't going to play hide and seek for the rest of her life.

"Then I'm sad to tell you I've been struck temporarily deaf and cannot hear that order, princess." Kisaka said, unsmiling.

"Athrun!"

"What do you want me to do?" he retorted. "I can do a lot of things... taking Kisaka out in hand to hand combat is not one of them." he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not happy about being told to run and hide when people are after your life and mine... but right now, it is the best option." Cagalli shuddered a little and then seemed to calm down. Even Kisaka relaxed... he should have known better. With a snake quick movement, she darted forward and slipped past him, inches ahead of his grasping arms. Stopping a few feet further down the tunnel, she turned back to face them, fire glinting in her eyes.

"Some times the best option isn't the right option." she said before turning and sprinting back up the tunnel. There was a brief moment of silence.

"Aww, hell." Kisaka muttured.

"My thoughts exactly." Athrun echoed. He wasted no time in sprinting after her... maybe he would get lucky and catch up to her before she did something stupid. Kisaka was right behind him. Waltfeld turned and looked at Kira, Lacus, Dr. Simmons and Murrue. He shrugged.

"I'm a soldier too... well, half of one anyway. It just wouldn't feel right to me to let those guys... even that rat bastard Vladimir, sacrifice their lives so I could run and hide. Maybe even especially that rat bastard Vladimir... the thought of oweing him my life is intolerable." he told them with a cocky grin. He then turned and limped back up the passageway as well. Murrue stared after him and then back at Lacus and Kira.

"We might as well go. If nothing else, Kira and I can help evacuate anyone who is wounded." Lacus said. "Besides... maybe I can help out a little in other ways too?" she continued, tapping the side of her head meaningfully. As a group they headed back up the tunnel after Waltfeld.

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Dekameron had just poked his head around a bend, about two steps ahead of Ramierez and the Lieutenant. He could have sworn he saw what looked like hastily prepared gun posi... he was cut off in mid thought by a single shot from Raine, which penetrated the red glowing camera optic eye, then his real eye and then mashed his brain into slurry. He dropped without a sound. Ramierez and Cyprus didn't need a sound though, they instinctively knew a death when they saw one. Ramierez grabbed his fellow scout by the ankle and dragged his body back around the bend. He saw where the shot had hit and nodded grimly... an excellent shot, there was at least one marksman around the corner.

"Is that you, Raine Belaruse?" Asmodeus called around the corner. There was a brief silence.

"It is me." she replied. Asmodeus smiled under his mask.

"You have to know, my dear, that you are heavily outnumbered and outgunned. If you surrender now, we will spare your life."

"You have to know, Asmodeus, that I'm dug into a position of strength and that you will lose more than a couple of your numbers if you try to kill me. If YOU surrender now, I will spare your life." she retorted.

"So much for the easy way." Asmodeus muttered to himself. He looked over at Thomas Glory. "I think it's high time you lost some weight, sarge-major."

"Aye-aye, captain, sir." Glory said with a heavy grin. "As they say, revenge is a dish best served with a heavy garnishing of 5mm JHP and a big side of HE missiles!" He brought the quad tube missile launcher and gatling gun into his hands, the missiles on his left shoulder, the gatling in his right hand. "Now it's our turn to do some blasting. Cover me!" he directed. Three Hellhounds unclipped flash bangs from their chests and tossed them around the bend in bouncing arcs, then followed up with sustained bursts from their automatic rifles.

"Eyes!" Victor called out when he saw the cylindrical grenades come bouncing around the corner. He took his own advice and buried his face in the ground, closing his eyes to prevent being blinded. The triple shock of the concussion weapons was still stunning though and it took him a second or two to regain control of his body after they went off. High velocity rifle fire was chewing into the walls and ceiling above their positions... cover fire. He was just bringing his weapon back to bear when a giant of a man charged around the bend, gargantuan weapons in hand. "Glory!" he shouted in recognition.

"Hallelughya!" Thomas called back, firing one missile which streaked by just a foot or two over Victor's head to blow a very sizable chunk out of the wall about ten meters behind him. Not letting up, the masssive Hellhound brought the gatling gun to bear and fired a three second burst, a waterfall of tinkling brass spilling from the rapidly spinning weapon. Bricks shattered and broke under the onslaught of bullets, whittling away at their covered positions. Without waiting for orders, Victor started firing back, using three shot bursts to conserve ammo. He couldn't hear it, but he saw flashes out of the corners of his eyes and he figured Alkire and Raine were firing too. Which they were. Problem was, the three seconds that Glory had pinned them down had allowed six Hellhounds to get around the bend, throwing themselves prone to use what little cover they could and the volume of return fire was only increasing as more Hellhounds started slipping around the bend in the increasingly long pauses between return fire volleys from the TEMPEST members. Victor saw a Hellhound go stumbling backwards, his chest a ruin of bullet holes, but in the confusion he could not tell who had killed him.

"Fall back... by fire and movement. You first, Victor!" Alkire ordered, popping suddenly to an upright position, throwing a smoke grenade directly into the middle of the Hellhound formation He felt several bullets graze his armor, but none struck him directly as he sprayed full automatic fire into the smoke cloud, supported by Raine.

"Raine!" Alkire called after giving Victor fifteen seconds. He switched magazines and tossed another smoke grenade, counting slowly to fifteen. There was a sudden slackening of return fire and he knew the enemy was up to something. "Me!" he called, and sprinted for his life... not a moment to soon, because Glory fired another two missiles, one at Raine's position and one at his, shattering them both under the high explosive penetrating power of the anti-vehicle missiles. Enemy fired picked up again, bullets whizzing by him on all sides as he sprinted for his life. "James, we got incoming! It's the Alpha team and they've got a missile launcher!" he turned and fired over his shoulder as he ran, causing two or three Hellhounds who'd charged out of the smoke bank to dive desperately for cover before shooting back at him, bullets making little whining sounds as they ricocheted off bricks and the rails.

"We've got other problems!" James radioed back, scrambling around another pillar to gain some temporary cover from the flanking fire that had nearly eviscerated him. About thirty seconds ago a bunch of Hellhounds had burst into the rail junction from one of the other tunnels. He'd been in a good, solid, central position, but there'd been a better place, more open but with a better field of fire to use. He'd run there and opened fire, taking down five of the masked figures in one burst. But then a whole bunch more had come in from the opposite tunnel, behind him, and he'd gotten shot three times in the stomach and back before he got into good cover again. His armor had stopped the bullets, but they hurt like hell. "I'm surrounded by Hellhounds!"

"Vlad!? Where are you, Vlad?" Alkire called, throwing himself down into a rolling dive as a bullet whammed off his shoulder, leaving a deep hole in the armor and a large bruise on his flesh. Bullets from Raine and Victor whip-cracked past him as he got to his feet again, but they only managed to slow the pursuers a little... it was hard holding back superior numbers without the advantage of prepared positions.

"I'm a little busy right now... I'll call you back..." Vlad replied, his voice tight and barely audible. At the moment he was just entering the rail junction where Hellhound teams Charlie and Delta were engaged in a very deadly and one sided game of hide and seek with James. But now, the hunters were unwittingly numbered among the hunted. He took the spool of fishing line out his his pocket and spooled out a two foot length, before tearing the line off with his hands. He put the spool back into his pocket and crept forward. The Hellhounds had split up into hunt teams of two or three... good for covering a large area quickly... bad for defending against Vlad's form of warfare. He sneaked up behind one such pair and looped the fishing line around the neck of one, yanking back firmly and steadily, neatly cutting the man's throat with the high strength plastic. His choking gurgle alerted his pal, but by then it was too late... a straight palm strike from Vlad's mechanical hand crushed the teflon and kevlar facepiece in, along with the skull behind it. Wasting no time, Vlad slipped back into the shadows. Autofire ripped through the room, along with deeper coughs that sounded like shotgun blasts as the Hellhounds tried to hem James in with a wall of fire.

Cyprus narrowed his eyes as Alkire slipped out of his crosshairs once more, again just an instant before he would have pulled the trigger and blow his spine out through his stomach. The man seemed possessed of the devil's own luck. He rose from his kneeling postion and continued forward, rasing one hand and beckoning his men to follow him. They were almost to the railway junction where the fugitives must have gone to ground. Perhaps in some of the old maintenance passageways that wound beneath the subway lines themselves... thats where he would have gone. Who knew how far those tunnels went... they didn't even appear on some maps. He could hear the sound of gunfire echoing from up ahead... plainly Charlie and Delta teams had also reached the junction. He listened carefully... there was the sound of a heavy weapon, a heavy machine gun, probably a .50 caliber. But the weapon was firing only in short bursts, not continuous sustained fire, which meant the operator was either almost entirely pinned down or on the move. TEMPEST was supposed to consist of five members, and they'd already encounterd Raine, Alkire and Victor. That meant James was ahead in the rail junction, engaged with Charlie and Delta. Vladimir... Andre... could be anywhere. Cyprus had suspected Andre to be tailing them, because of the steady disappearances of the rearguards, but he'd checked back to the tunnel cave in himself... they were no longer being followed. That meant Andre was ahead in the junction too.

He held up his hand for a halt again and then held up two fingers and gave the sign for wait again. "Wait two minutes? What for?" Asmodeus's voice buzzed in his ear. Cyprus grimaced... he did not like explaining himself, if it had been just his own team, or just them and Bravo team he would not have needed to explain, relying on his reputation to ensure people listened to him. But with Asmodeus here, he had to explain. Before he did that though, he decided to buy some insurance. He adjusted his comm set to the Charlie and Delta bands.

"LT here." he said quickly. "Send a man back to the entry stations. Guide duty. Casualties have been heavier than expected. Reinforcements in ten. All forces, fall back to positions you can hold and wait for further orders." There was a multi second pause as the other two team leaders digested his words... technically they ranked the same as Cyprus did and he had no authority to give them orders... but, he WAS the Lieutenant. The most successful and dangerous team commander in all of EFSOU, the man who'd never failed a mission. When people listened to Cyrpus's advice, they tended to live longer and better lives... when they disregarded him, they tended to end up killed, usually by the exact thing Cyprus had warned them about. In the end, there really wasn't much of a choice.

"Charlie here, acknowledged. Pulling back into the tunnel. Five dead, two wounded, no hostiles slain."

"Delta here, understood. Falling back into our tunnel. Three missing, presumed dead, no wounded, no hostiles slain."

"What the hell are you doing? I'm not accustomed to asking for explanations twice, Lieutenant." Asmodeus cut into the channel. Cyprus turned his head slowly to look back at his commanding officer, standing a few feet behind him. It was difficult to maintain eye contact like he liked to, when both men wore full face masks, but Cyprus knew the other man was staring at Cyprus just as hard as Cyprus was staring at him.

"I'm requesting to call for backup. They were waiting for us... are waiting for us. We are assaulting a position of strength, playing to the strength's of the enemy. That is not the way the Hellhounds have been taught to fight. That is not the way I fight. I am going to fight how the Hellhounds are supposed to fight. Do you understand what I'm saying, sir?" Cyprus said slowly and clearly. Asmodeus considered the reply, his eyes narrowing. He wanted to get this job done, it chafed at him... but he could not deny what Cyprus had said was true. He'd taught his unit better than to just rush ahead, bulling their way by brute force through the enemy line. That was not the way special forces warfare should be conducted. Leave the heroic rush with guns blazing to the infantry and marines... the Hellhounds would achieve their goals with the precision and deadliness of knives in the night.

"Understood, LT. You have the right of it." Asmodeus replied at last. He changed his own comm settings, setting his channel to the one used by the infantry on the streets above. "This is Captain Sark calling any Earth Forces infantry forces on the city streets. There is a vitally important mission in progress beneath the streets of the city. All available infantry units are hereby ordered, under the authority of the Emergency Command Protocol Alpha-Omega-Sigma-Nine-Seven-One, to muster at the Hameya and Mall subway stations, for attachment to special duties. Bring only squad level support weapons and lower, fighting will take place underground in confined spaces." Asmodeus switched back to the Hellhound command channel. "I sent out the call for reinforcements, Lieutenant. Now what?"_ I'm getting too old for this shit... to have basic strategy and tactics pointed out to me by a subordinate, even him... I've been losing my touch ever since Ray died._

"While you wait for the reinforcements to arrive, I will be leading a scout team into the enemy territory." Cyrpus replied calmly. He was really starting to worry about his superiors... Cervantes seemed to have gone off the deep end and Asmodeus was almost listless and sloppy. Sai had come along at a fortuitous time... without strong leadership nothing would get done and Cyprus did not desire to do anything but follow. He had advanced as far as he ever wanted to go, he was happy where he was. But his current superiors were jeopordizing not only his own life but the lives of his men, his responsibility, and it seemed he now had no choice but to take over command of the mission. "With due respect, sir, I request temporary authority over the mission."

"You have it." Asmodeus replied with a wave of his hand. "I invoked the privileges of ECP AOS-971, so there shouldn't be any questions as to who is in charge of the regular infantry. I think I'm getting too old for this sort of bushwacking nonsense, Cyprus. What do you need me to do?"

"If you say so, sir." Cyprus replied. Privately he thought there was a lot more to it than age... Asmodeus had commanded in the field with distinction during the first war, and he was only a year and a half older now. He sensed that Asmodeus had lost something important to him... something so important that he'd lost his will to live, the fire that had previously burned inside him, the spirit and personality that had earned him the respect of Cyprus in the first place. But it wasn't the time or place to confront his former friend and superior about this change or other pressing matters. "Hawely is dead. I need you to act as my communication link to the other teams and to the backup forces. Other than that I need you to take command of the remnants of Bravo team. You are now Bravo team leader."

"This is Colonel Kisler, of the Atlantic Federation Army Third Corp, Second Division, Fifth Regiment. I have received your order, Captain Sark and I acknowledge the authority of ECP AOS-971. I'm deploying two reinforced infantry companies to the indicated positions, one under my command and the other under the command of my XO, Lt. Colonel Barnaby. ETA is eight minutes. Kisler, out."

"Two reinforced companies... that's nearly three hundred men. You think that will be enough, or shall I call for more?" Asmodeus asked.

"It will do for the moment." Cyprus replied, his mind moving on to other things. "Ramierez... chose two other good infiltraters. Sub-mission classification: Bloody Tomahawk. Understand?"

"Bloody Tomahawk... christ sir, you're pretty pissed." Glory commented. "We haven't done a Bloody Tomahawk since we took out that control station at Victoria Spaceport."

"I'll assume that "Bloody Tomahawk" is some form of pre-planned set of instructions." Asmodeus observed.

"You'd assume right. And everyone cut the chatter, I need a clear comm." Cyprus ordered. His mouth quirked into a momentary smile... it wasn't every day he got to tell a superior officer to shut up. "Remember, people, we're up against people who are as good as we are... better in some cases. We're going to do this slow and careful... further casualties are unacceptable." He turned sharply and moved over to Ramierez. "Ready? Let's go." He stalked off down the passage, followed quickly by Ramierez and his chosen two.

"What the hell is a Bloody Tomahawk?" Asmodeus asked almost immediately, switching to a private channel between him and Sgt-Major Glory.

"Its a reference to way back when, when the western part of the Atlantic Federation, the old USA, was still untamed. Back when the revolver was the be all end all of handguns and the hand cranked gatling gun was just starting to appear on battlefields. The native people of the time didn't appreciate the colonizers much... but they were a stone age culture and almost every time they fought head on, they got their asses handed to them. So instead they'd break up into marauding bands... ten, twenty strong... and go after isolated groups of people, utilizing stealth and their knowledge of the land to make up for numbers and superior technology. They'd usually come back after every last man had a bloody tomahawk, though that might just be a folk saying." Glory replied. "The way the LT means it, it means he and a small group are splitting off from the main mass to go reconniter the enemy positions. No gunfire allowed, if you have to kill someone, you do it with a knife or your bare hands, to avoid giving yourself away. I suppose you could generalize it as a scouting mission with extreme personal prejudice. Bloody Tomahawk is getting right up in the middle of the enemy camp, cutting throats in the night, an all out, no holds barred bloodbath. God, I wish I knew how to sneak well enough to go along." Glory sounded positively wistful. "If you hear a war howl, thats the go code for the rest of us to come running, guns blazing... never had it used before, but never seen us take this many casualties before either."

"A war howl?" Asmodeus asked, slightly incredulous. "How does that sound?"

"You'll know it when you hear it... it'll set your teeth to shivering, trust me." Glory replied. He slung the missile launcher, with its one remaining missile, across his back and took up the gatling gun in both hands, reloading a fresh belt of ammunition... his last before he'd have to resort to the Gladius he'd picked up. "Just stay ready sir... we'll need to be ready to move at a moment's notice... a full on charge."

"I think I can handle that." Asmodeus said with a slight smile under his mask, taking his custom pistol out of its thigh holster and taking off the safety. The small blue dot of the laser targeting system played briefly across the walls as he sighted in again. He kept the heavy weapon in his right hand and unsheathed his rapier with his left, with its titanium-steel reinforced laser sharpened edge, the shiny metallic blade glinted in the murky light provided by the helmet sensors. Most men said the age of swords in combat was long dead, but Asmodeus disagreed... he felt that there were few more effective weapons for close combat, few weapons that evoked more fear from the enemy than a four foot length of razor sharp steel wielded expertly and with precision. He looked forward to proving this point with his point in the near future.


	74. The Day Of, Finale

"They've gone quiet... thats not good." Alkire peeked out from around one of the arched pillars that supported the upper floors of the rail junction, where machinery and supplies were kept while trains went by on the lower level. He could see three seperate tunnels leading out of the junction... one was the one he, Raine and Victor had fled from just minutes before. He knew there were enemies in that tunnel. And according to James, who had joined them a little while ago and Vlad, who was still skulking around out in the darkness somewhere, there were Hellhound teams in both of the other tunnels. Damned Asmodeus had brought the entire Hellhound unit by the look of things. True, he'd played into their hands so far, rushing into various traps that he could have avoided by delaying for a few hours, but despite the success of the ambush war carried out so far, they were still outnumbered more than three or four to one. And now the Hellhounds had all just suddenly pulled back into the tunnels, leaving TEMPEST, battered, bruised and tired, in sole control of the junction area. "Vlad... can you see anything?"

Vlad clicked his tongue once in the negative. He was scouting the area around the tunnel that led eventually to the Mall station, ensuring that the enemy did not try to slip infiltrators into the junction while the members of TEMPEST recovered during the unexpected reprieve. Vlad's mind was racing, calculating, considering... trying to figure out why the enemy had changed their tactics. Up until a few minutes ago they had come on fiercely, almost recklessly, as if driven by some imperative even more important than their own lives. They had walked into trap after hastily if masterfully prepared trap, ambushes that men of the Hellhound's caliber should have been easily able to circumvent as long as they took some time, which was all the traps were designed to do... buy time, not lives. Instead they had suffered serious casualties, with more than ten dead already... prohibitive for most missions involving special forces operatives, where the loss of a single mission specialist could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

Vlad did not dare enter the tunnels themselves directly... he was confident in his ability to remain unseen in the wider open areas of the rail junction, but the newly wary enemy was sure to spot a single man moving into a tunnel towards them where no man should be. If he were to take the time to move carefully enough to attempt the sneak... they didn't have that kind of time... that would require hours if not days. He paused near the tunnel entrance, crouched low, his body pressed flat to the bricks, mechanically sensitive fingers touching the wall and floor, questing for the slightest vibration that would herald renewed movement by the enemy... there was nothing. He waited a minute more and then stole back into the main part of the junction, where Alkire and the others were erecting a centralized defense position.

James was swearing softly under his breath when Vlad arrived, the bigger man having upended his backpacks in order to ensure he had not missed any ammunition or other supplies... despite the relative shortness of the fight so far, he had still used up about half of the ammunition for his .50 caliber machine gun and if the Hellhounds made any sort of movement in force he knew he'd go through what he had left in a matter of minutes. Vlad ghosted by James without causing the other man to even look up and picked up his sawed off automatic shotgun from where he'd left it in the shadow of a pillar. It wasn't until James heard the slight click of the safety disengaging that he even realized Vlad had returned. "God damn it, Vlad, don't do that!" James muttured, a hand to his rapidly beating heart.

"See anything?" Alkire asked from where he was piling loose bricks into a low wall in front of the central access pillar, a concrete construction about thirty feet square that enclosed the stairway up to the next level, where railway employees who maintained the trains and rail lines would spend their off time. Fifty feet to the north of their position, which was being built on the slightly raised platform surrounding the pillar for fifteen feet on all sides was the wall with the old steel door that led to the tunnel where the kids and company had gone. Subway rails, diversions from the three main tracks that cut through the junction in the shape of a triangle, ran close to the elevated platform on three sides, while the fourth bordered a section of bare floor piled high with various materials... sheet metal, buckets of bolts and screws, replacement rail sections, etc, with a sheet metal office for the supply records at the far end. Every thirty feet or so there was a concrete pillar that supported the roof. There were lights in the ceiling, which was roughly twenty feet tall, but most of them were either malfunctioning or intentionally shot out by one side or the other.

"Nothing... they're planning something though." Vlad replied, moving over to kneel by where he'd left his pack, his coat brushing against the floor like a shroud. "There is only one of me, and three tunnels. I would not be surprised if there are infiltrated troops already within the junction. If I was the enemy, that is what I would have done. They will be moving slowly, since they do not know where we are but once they find us, we can expect a rush from all available forces."

"What if we made their scouts disappear?" Victor said wolfishly. "That might slow them down some."

"Problem is, we don't know where they are, or I'd agree with you, Victor." Alkire said, continuing to build up what cover he could.

"I wouldn't say that." Raine cut in suddenly, from where she lay at the edge of the platform, a grey camouflage blanket draped over her, scope held to one eye. "I'm currently looking at a group of four men who think they slipped out of the tunnel we fled from without being seen. They're pretty good... if it weren't for the brick dust flaking off them and reflecting slightly as it fell through the air I never would have noticed them. They just split up... the single is headed in a half loop around the side of the supply office, the other three are moving as a group towards us."

"I got the lone cowboy." Alkire said, getting to his feet slowly, so as not to betray position with sudden movement... which drew the eye faster than anything else, even bright color. "Think you're up to three, Vlad?"

Vlad carefully laid his shotgun down next to Raine and withdrew the silenced pistol from his waist holster. The diamond dust coated garrotte dangled loosely in his other hand. "I have a bad feeling... but not about this. Those three are already dead... but I... I don't know quite what it is... I can't shake the feeling of doom."

"We're surrounded and outnumbered by merciless professional killers, that might have something to do with it." James said cheerfully. "I'm shaking in my boots, over here, personally. We're good... but good might not cut it... we're just people, not action heroes."

"No sense in worrying about it now... its a little late for surrender, I think." Victor replied, moving over to kneel next to Raine, his gun braced and ready to fire the moment she told him to. Alkire wasted no more time on words... there was nothing to say. He took his rifle and leopard crawled across the platform, slithering face first off the four foot drop and into the material supply section. He maintained his pace... noise was less important than speed right now, he needed to get to the office room... more a shack of thin sheet metal with interior lights and a network connection than anything else... ahead of the single infiltrator. If the enemy rounded the shack before he got there, he'd have a clean line of sight at the platform where Raine, Victor and James were setting up their defenses... they could not afford that.

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Cyprus made his way slowly and carefully along the long side of the sheet metal building he had reached moments before. The building blocked all good views of the central area of the junction complex from the tunnel he had come from... if TEMPEST had set up where he expected them to, that meant the building was serving as a first class visual blind for the Hellhound teams. Unless they could get a spotter and preferably a sniper or two in position at the edge of the building to get line of sight to the central platform, TEMPEST could deploy in any direction without the Hellhounds being able to see them until it was far too late. Cyprus dropped to the ground and lay on his chest, weapon tucked in close, taking a moment to steady his breathing and cleanse his mind. He tongued his comm system. "Status report on reinforcements."

"Delta and Charlie team members have made contact with reserve forces and are guiding them into position now. ETA to complete readiness is zero seven minutes." Asmodeus replied at once. "All other teams report no sign of the enemy."

"Very well." Cyprus replied and closed the channel, opening another to Ramierez and the other two scouts. "They're at the central platform. Use extreme caution... assume you are one bad movement from being spotted and killed at all times... because you likely are. I am rounding the metal shack now, report if you spot them but do not engage unless engaged yourself." Cyprus wriggled forward a half foot or so before rising to one knee. He was about to return to his feet when he heard the ever so slight scrape of cloth against concrete... and it was coming from the other side of the shack. He froze, holding his breath... he wasn't alone anymore. His free hand inched up to the weapons and equipment slung across his chest.

Alkire pressed his back tightly against the metal side of the office, feeling the almost paper thin metal flex slightly under the pressure. He took several deep but slow breaths to recover from the high speed crawl and listened to the area around him. Silent as a gravesite... not a breath of breeze or a stirring of noise. Then, suddenly, he heard something... something so faint he could almost have sworn he imagined it... the sound of a glove rasping against something hard... just a touch of cloth on metal, but it came from just the other side of the shack, only eight feet away. He couldn't teel exactly where the sound had come from, but he felt suddenly sure that he wasn't alone now. His hand crept to his belt, feeling carefully along the three remaining cylinders clipped there until he found one with slight knobby protrusions all over it. He gripped the grenade and held his breath as he tugged it out of its bindings, trying not to make any more noise that would reveal his intentions.

Cyprus heard the distinctive snap-click of something being unclipped from a belt binder... he swore under his breath... he had been heard, probably when his glove brushed against the stock of his Gladius. Not wasting time on stealth any more, he grabbed a concussion grenade from his chest bandoleer, flicked off the spoon and flipped it up and over the shack in a lazy toss. The sphere of metal clanked on the sheet metal roof as it bounced and slid onto the other side of the building. Alkire had heard Cyprus grab and throw and had done nearly the same thing at the same time, his own concussion grenade actually passing Cyprus's in midair, less than two feet apart. Cyprus's grenade and Alkire's both landed with dull metallic "thonk" sounds, each about four feet away from their respective targets. In the second left before detonation, both men took wildly different actions.

"Oh, fucking great! He thinks like I do... lucky me!" Alkire swore mightily and threw himself into a headlong dive over a pallet of stacked cans of paint and buckets of heavy railway bolts, landing heavily on his face and shoulders on the other side as Cyrpus's grenade blew in a thunderous detonation of light and sound that toppled the top third of the pyramid of pant cans and several hundred two inch bolts down on top of him. He arced his back in an attempt to roll with the impact, but the paint cans falling on top of him impeded that effort and he ended up lying on his back, half stunned and mostly buried in dented five gallon paint cans and a huge mess of grimy bolts. Cyprus on the other hand had leapt backwards, free hand whipping to his pistol holster in a blinding fast draw. He aimed and fired almost in the same motion, the heavy caliber but low penetrating power bullet striking the timer fused grenade hard enough to send it clattering for several feet along the floor before it exploded. The flash and noise were terrible, but between the jump and shot, Cyprus had removed himself from the harmful range of the grenade, landing with nothing more than spots in his eyes and ringing ears. He wasted no time in charging forward towards the far edge of the building so he could engage the foe.

Alkire heard the sound of feet rapidly striking concrete and he forced himself upright, head still a little bleary. He couldn't quite track the exact location of the footsteps with the weird acoustics in the tunnels, but he knew the enemy was still on the other side of the shack, because he could not yet see him and because Raine and the others had not been shot to pieces by enfilade fire yet. He could not let the man round the corner, if he did he'd have a perfect shot at Raine and the others. Not bothering to aim, Alkire selected full auto on his rifle and sprayed a long burst into the office shack. On the other side of the building, Cyprus stopped so suddenly he slipped and went over backwards, not entirely by accident, as a line of ragged bullet holes chewed their way out of the thin metal side of the building above him at about chest height. He rolled to the side and came up on one knee, Gladius held in one hand, pistol in the other and he returned fire, aiming by guestimation. Alkire ducked back into cover to reload as bullets spranged and sparked off the railway supplies on all sides of him... _just fucking wonderful, I got a real John Wayne on the other side of the building... doesn't know when to die or retreat._ He slapped in a fresh magazine and waited for the gunfire to die down.

Cyprus stopped firing, holstering his pistol and hit his mic with his tongue. He switched out magazines as he spun to the side, changing positons almost unconsciously while reloading the Gladius. Completing his spin he dropped into a kneeling postion, his finger on the secondary shotgun trigger of the Gladius. As soon as his knee hit the pavement he uttered a blood curdling shriek over all channels... the warcry of an obscure tribe of South American headhunters he'd studied way back in high school. It had curled his toes the first time he'd heard it and it still sent shivers down his spine... a high, wavering banshee wail that seemed to hang in the air like the frozen breath of death. Given the mask he currently had on, he would not have blamed an observer, if there had been one, for mistaking the sound for the howl of a real hound from Hell. He heard metal shifting on the other side of the building and aimed for that spot, holding down both triggers of the Gladius, sending a heavy shotgun slug and a slew of hypervelocity bullets in that direction, shooting through the battered building like it wasn't even there.

Alkire had stood to shoot, but then he'd heard that warcry... a yell that had turned his guts to ice and sent goosebumps crawling up and down his limbs. He didn't know what that sound was from, but he didn't really want to find out either. He'd shaken it off, but then the enemy had opened fire again, firing more accurately this time and with a heavier weapon, the booming cough of a low gauge shotgun loaded with solid slugs. Real man stoppers, a low gauge shotgun slug would tear through any body armor made and throw the unlucky corpse a good five or six feet back at close range, which he certainly was at. He swore and dived, just barely in time as smaller whining bullets nicked his back and leg armor after boring blue and grey bleeding holes through several paint cans. The shotgun slug struck a bucket of bolts and shattered the entire thing, sending the heavy bolts flying in a brief horizontal rain of clattering metal. Unwilling to stay on the defensive, Alkire popped back up right away and fired back at the gaping hole where the shotgun slug had penetrated the building, sweeping his fire low and horizontal towards the closer edge of the shack, where the enemy was likely headed. _Come on, you bastard... just die already._ Alkire held down the trigger, even as he heard other weapons join the battle... the rest of the enemy had arrived.

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Vlad had stalked his prey with the patience of a starving lion. The three men whom he watched, now behind them and only ten feet away, were quite skilled. He'd almost been seen twice now... in fact, he was reasonably sure the man in charge, the one who was currently on point, knew that he and his men were being stalked. There just wasn't anything he could do about it... whenever they tried to turn and catch Vlad out they failed dismally, telegraphing their movements far too soon. It did not help that Vlad had undergone intense training in reading people and how they would react, not even considering his years and years of solo assassination experience, relying only on himself to watch his own back. This men were soldiers, scouts, infiltrators... but they weren't assassins. There was a difference. And now that difference would be deadly. Vlad slithered up a wall, his metallic fingers digging into the crevices in the bricks with nary a sound as he hauled himself up above the rearmost of the three, who was in the middle of turning about the check their backtrail. The man revealed his relative inexperience... he checked low and middle, short and far, but neglected to check high... most soldiers did not think to look up unless they were on low ground... and there was no such thing as low ground in a subway tunnel. Unless you happened to be able to climb with an ease unknown to humans with flesh and blood limbs.

Vlad leapt over the heads of the soldiers, propelling himself ahead of them with a mighty push from his arms and legs, reaching out for the next pillar to grab hold of the concrete decorative edge about three quarters of the way up. It was not easy making such a leap soundlessly, but the noise he'd made came from behind the soldiers and they spun in that direction, glaring red eyes staring fruitlessly at nothing, weapon muzzles rotating and jabbing into shadows fiercely but uselessly. Hanging from one hand, Vlad slowly removed his coat one sleeve at a time, switching hands in the middle. His feet were about a foot above the head height of the enemy, just above their line of sight. what he was planning to do was tricky... but he felt sure of its success, despite the still unshakable feeling of doom that continued to weigh upon him. Balling the leather garment up as much as he could with one hand, Vlad tossed it away from him, waiting for the slap of leather on pavement to dig sharply into the pillar with his metal fingers, digging out two deep and angular gashes in the pillar. Distracted by the loud slap of leather, the soldiers either did not hear the sound of the crushed concrete or likely assimilated it in as related to the leather sound. To their credit, no man opened fire, but such fire discipline was really nothing less than expected for a team like the Hellhounds. Glad again for the unnatural strength of his mechanical arms, Vlad rotated himself one hundred eighty degrees, digging his feet into the footholds he'd created so that he was hanging upside down with his head about eight feet off the floor.

He couldn't stay that way for long... the footholds would deteriorate eventually, and even faster with the load he was soon to put on them, but they would last long enough. Vlad looked down and waited. The Hellhounds had investigated his coat and recognized it as a decoy, though they still hadn't figured out where he was... if they did see him he was dead, hanging exposed in nearly plain view, but with the narrowed field of vision imposed by LAG's and full face masks, plus the utter insanity of the idea of being attacked from above in a tunnel combined to make him practically invisible to them. He let the first two pass slowly underneath him, grinning at how close they were to death... but he'd resolved to do this carefully... despite how pleasing it would be to just drop and kill them all, it was best to ensure at worst two to one odds... and probably more satisfying in the end. His moment came... the final man passed below him, hesitated a moment... his last moment... and Vlad brought down the diamond dust coated wire, already twisted into a loop, slipping the metal wire with long practiced ease around the man's neck, the wire digging in under the chin strap of his mask. The man barely had time to see the shadow of the wire pass in front of his face... by the time he realized the threat it was too late... the metal wire was already abrading through his skin, cutting his jugular and windpipe as his body was lifted soundlessly off the ground by unbelievable strength. He tried to fight, to make some noise of warning, but by the time the first flash of pain reached his mind the abrasive loop was already grinding away at his spinal cord and he had no breath left to even choke on.

The first sign Ramierez had that his bad feeling, the feeling of being watched by eyes with intent to harm, had any sort of substance at all, had come with the sound of leather striking pavement about fifteen feet away. He and his men had instantly hit the ground, scurrying for cover, weapons and eyes searching for targets... but there had been nothing. Just a long leather trenchcoat, balled up and apparently tossed as a decoy. Ramierez had also heard the sound of metal hitting concrete, and had assumed there was a bomb or grenade hidden in the coat, a trap for unwary investigators, but after twenty seconds of watching the coat with no explosion, he'd been forced to write that off too. Maybe a knife or something in the coat or maybe it was armor lined... neither would surprise him. Swearing under his breath, unable to shake the feeling of being hunted or herded into a trap, he and his chosen two scouts, Quentin and a man from Bravo team had continued on, making their slow and careful way towards the center platform, which was now almost visible to them through the small forest of support pillars. The Bravo man was in the rear, checking behind them at random intervals to ensure they were not followed or tracked... but he'd yet to discover anything and now with the coat Ramierez had confirmation that they were being stalked.

The second sign Ramierez got that something was horribly wrong came in two parts... one was the explosion of gunfire from over where the LT was, followed closely by the LT's war cry... the second was the warm splatter of blackish-red liquid that drizzled down from the shadows near the ceiling, right over the position he'd last seen the Bravo man standing. He snapped his gaze upwards and almost instantly spotted the hanging corpse of the Hellhound... it took him almost a half second to realize the man was being held up there by another man behind him, somehow clinging to the concrete of the support pillar by means Ramierez could not discern. Given how limply the Hellhound hung, and the quantity of blood he could see pouring down the man's chest and legs, Ramierez knew him to be dead. Thus he felt no compunctions about swinging his Gladius up and spraying fire at the enemy, shielded behind the body of his now dead ally. Almost as soon as he opened fire the Hellhound corpse and the man behind it dropped to the ground, the Hellhound corpse being propelled forward to strike Ramierez full on, the still pulsing blood from the gaping neck wound washing up over his mask sensors even as the warm body bore him to the ground, his fire going wild. By the time he'd recovered, wiping the gore off and throwing the dead weight off him, Quentin was firing too, but there was no sign of Andre Forkav. Ramierez swore audibly, spinning to stand back to back with his teammate... eyes now forced to watch the ceiling as much as anything else.

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Frost bulled his way down the tiny maintenance shaft, pulling his way forward with his arms while pushing with his legs, ignoring the momentary flashes of discomfort as he forced himself to squeeze by any obstacle he couldn't either break off or crush aside. Despite the odd method of locomotion, given his strength, size and endurance, he was actually moving along at the speed of a brisk walk... moving faster than the Hellhound teams out in the main tunnel, since he was not worried about booby traps or ambushes. Unfortunately he also had a lot longer distance to go, as the maintenance shaft did not exactly follow the path of the subway tunnels... its primary purpose was to provide a means for power and communication lines to be laid underneath the city and it meandered back and forth between the big power and utility hubs beneath many different buildings and locations. He felt the subsonic rumbles of high explosive detonations several times, but ignored them... they came from behind him or to the side... Pink was ahead of him, he was certain. He was unaware of the froth on his lips or the gleam in his bloodshot eyes. Today was the day of reckoning... it had to be. He pulled himself along faster, unwilling to wait a single instant longer than need be... his enhanced mind assured him that he was close to his goal... another few hundred meters and he'd be in the railway junction where Pink must have fled through. From there it would be a matter of minutes to trace her and run her down... and then the fun would start.

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"There's the signal... damn, never thought I'd live to the day when the LT needed to call for help." Glory said, shouting over his shoulder as he sprinted down the tunnel like a linebacker racing for a sack as the echoes of Cyprus's warcry echoed throughout the tunnels. He was followed closely by the other Hellhounds, their feet pounding in long strides, each man competing for speed and space, each desperate to reach the combat zone as fast as possible... in this fight, a matter of seconds could decide the difference between life and death. Asmodeus followed at a more sedate pace, more a jog than a mad scramble... this was partly out of concern for his men, since they were tightly packed in the tunnel and adding a man waving a four foot sword into that jumble was asking for a friendly fire incident... but mostly because he saw no reason to just charge blindly in... that was not his way, not really the way of the Hellhound, like Cyprus had pointed out to him. He would take the battle at his own pace and use his strengths to bring victory. As he advanced he contacted the reserve forces again, ordering them to advance with haste and to come prepared to enter a full scale close range infantry fight.

Asmodeus jogged around the final turn and came face to face with a battle of an intensity he had not witnessed since the late stages of the last war... the battle to retake the Victoria spaceport, to be exact. That had been one bloody knife brawl of a battle... and what he saw now looked like the same sort of thing... just confined to a room the size of a warehouse instead of spread out over several dozen square miles of savanna. Even with flash supressors on many weapons, the light from automatic weapons fire lit up the junction like a strobe light and even with silencers the muted claps of high velocity rounds sounded like the applause of an audience of thousands with the acoustic echoes in the underground room. He kept to the back, sidling along the outer wall of the chamber, sword held low and to the side, pistol up and tracking along with his eyes as he surveryed the battle and calculated how best to win it.

The enemy had built a strong position in the middle of the big room, out of direct line of sight from any of the three tunnels leading in to the junction. No matter which direction the Hellhounds came from, the enemy had a fire lane to cover it, and had seemingly managed to build themselves covered bunkers from which they could fire easily but were shielded from most return fire... certainly the enemy fire did not seem to be slackening, even with the amount of incoming attackers. There was also a seperate, smaller gunfight going on off to Asmodeus's right, he couldn't get much of a good look at it, but there were several people in fierce gun battle that seemed to be taking place in the middle of a supply yard. Asmodeus frowned... why had TEMPEST stayed? During the reprieve they had been granted by Cyprus's call for reinforcements, they could have easily slipped away, taking the same route their allies had. But instead they'd stayed... a rearguard action. A smile crept onto Asmodeus's face... they were guarding the bridge, so to speak, buying more time for their allies to run. Now all he had to do was discover where this "bridge" was... once that was taken, the battle was won. He continued moving along the wall, staying out of sight of the defenders, while he searched for what he knew had to exist.

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"You know, why did we volunteer for this bullshit? I've been wondering." Victor said grouchily, firing several bursts of sub machine gun bullets off into the junction area, probing into the shadows between pillars where he knew the Hellhounds were trying to sneak closer. He could almost see their beady red eyes whenever he popped up to shoot. He ducked back down behind the overturned table and bench he was using as a bastion, furniture hastily looted from the supply and office rooms up the staircase. There was a door to the outside world up there, but no way out... the staircase to the surface must have been damaged by the mobile suit battle on the streets above, it was choked with rubble and completely impassable from below. "We could have been hightailing it to the exit along with everyone else... but no, we stayed behind... and now look at us. We're pinned down, running out of ammo, about to get shot to pieces... what went wrong?"

"Less talky, more shooty!" James replied, he'd picked up Vlad's automatic shotgun and was using that to scour the shadows, conserving his .50 caliber for when he had actual targets. He ducked back behind his own cover as a fusillade of hypervelocity bullets flew back at him like invisible and horizontal rain, sending chips of brick and spouts of concrete dust everywhere as the platform and staircase pillar took the brunt of it. He paused for a couple of breaths and then popped back around the cover again and fired two quick shots. He let out an exclaimation of victory and ducked back again. "Hah... bastards were getting cocky until I sprayed that sorry fool's guts across two pillars. They're getting antsy... they're going to make a move soon and theres not much we can do to stop them... we're heavily outnumbered."

"I'm working on fixing that." Raine replied, firing single shots from her sub gun. It was nowhere near as accurate as her sniper rifle, but in the relatively close quarters of the junction, she probably could have been sniping with her pistols and soon would be, considering how her SMG ammo was dwindling. She bracketed a shadow filled cavity between three pillars, intentionally firing high and wide in a bid to flush out the two Hellhounds she'd seen dive for cover there. She stopped firing as one rolled out, weapon blazing in wild cover fire, she elected to let him pass... anyone that brazen would slip up again, she could pick him off later. His cagey friend waited for return fire and seeing none came out low and fast, almost diving for the next bit of cover. He made it one and a half steps before Raine's shot struck him just behind the ear, blowing his jaw off and scrambling his brains inside his helmet. She narrowed her eyes as return fire picked its way along the platform edge in front of her, sending showers of grit and gravel into her face, pattering against her LAGs. "But to answer you Victor... we're doing this because its the right thing to do... we're mission specialists and this is our special mission. You're right, we could have run, run off with the kids and we'd be safe. Probably."

"Probably? Fucker!" Victor questioned, cursing as a ricochet bounced off the wall and dug a bloody crease along the back of his calf... painful but not debilitating... he ignored it for the moment. "We'd have been long gone, with all the Hellhounds back here, stumbling around the tunnels."

"We didn't know they'd be so slow, now did we, Victor?" Raine replied, firing and missing as three more Hellhounds advanced another five feet closer. "At the time, Alkire had to consider that the enemy was going to be right on our heels the entire time... and Lacus and some of the other kids aren't exactly long distance sprinters. Hell, I don't know if I could go flat out for more than a few miles, especially in small little dark tunnels, with an enemy right on my ass. We might have been safe as a group... but if we weren't then the enemy was going to bag us all at once... thus the rear guard action we find ourselves in. I don't want to die any more than you do, Victor... but I have to agree with Alkire's thinking that if we do die... better us than Lacus and Cagalli, people who might actually have a chance of bringing peace to the world."

"That's just great... now I can't even get angry, since it's a noble sacrifice." Victor mumbled. "There had better be a lot of pretty girls at my memorial service!"

"Oh shit! Oh Shit! OH SHIT!" James suddenly cried in horror, his mouth agape.

"WHAT!? What is it? You shot!? How bad!?" Victor cried, turning to look at his friend. In doing so, he found out exactly what was causing his friend's constrenation. "Motherfucker... what in all the names of damned shit-hell is SHE doing back here!? She's supposed to be running! NOT GOOD!" he pointed at the steel door to the maintenace tunnel... which was even now still swinging open, revealing the fiery and determined face of Cagalli Yula Attha, armed and dangerous and completely out of her league as she stepped into the middle of a battlefield.

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_Kisaka is going to kill me._ Cagalli thought, her righteous drive to help the people defending her completely derailed by the situation she suddenly found herself in. _And he'll be right to do it._ She'd been ready to burst out the door and come to the aid of the TEMPEST members, perhaps even firing and killing a few of those Blue Cosmos bastards as they tried to follow them through the subway tunnels. She'd expected to find the situation already well in hand... perhaps be forced to listen to some of Alkire's false bravado or Vladimir's gloomy sarcasm... what else should she have been expecting... every other time she'd been around them in combat things had been like that? But not now. Now she couldn't even see them, though it didn't take a genius to figure out that the relatively small amount of fire coming from the central platform was her allies, while the overwhelming majority of the gunfire in the room, aimed at that central platform, was the enemy. She finally caught her first glimpse of the enemy that had been sent to kill her and it stopped her cold in her tracks. It took her a near fatal second to realize that the enemy weren't humanoids with the heads of demon-dogs, glowing red eyes fiery in their faces but instead were just men in scary masks. While she herself stood almost frozen, she found herself unable to fault their reactions or reflexes... the three she could easily see spun almost as one, wicked looking assault rifles already up and aiming at her just as she stepped out of the door. She fancied she could see the bullets in midflight, haloed by the restrained flickers of flash suppressed muzzles. _I'm gonna die... and its my fault. I should have listened to Kisaka and Athrun... funny how obvious that seems now. I should be scared... but I can't seem to be anything but surprised._

An irresistable force struck her from behind, throwing her to the ground to land squarely on her face, her nose striking the ground and gushing blood as her forehead struck and stars seemed to explode out of everywhere. The weight holding her stunned on the ground was warm and firm and very strong... and familiar too. "Abrun?" she muttered, spitting blood from split lips and bloody nose out of her mouth from where it was pressed into the ground. She couldn't see very well... there wasn't much light in the room, just a few flickering lights on the ceiling and a great deal of gunfire flashes... more light spilled out of the maintenance tunnel behind her than there was in most of the rest of the room. So instead of seeing it, she just heard and FELT the bullets whining by just above her head, whipcracking the air and dusting her and Athrun's backs with brick dust and stinging shards of concrete. She could have sworn several rounds parted the hair on the back of her head, that was how close it felt. Suddenly the incoming fire died down and stopped, though why she didn't understand until she managed to look up and see the three corpses, picked off by accurate long range headshots, laying on the ground nearby. _Raine's work, no doubt. Damn._

"Cagalli! Are you hurt?" Athrun hissed harshly in her ear, his hands and legs scrabbling on the concrete as he pushed them both into relative cover behind a pillar, tearing their clothes and skin on the rough pavement as they moved. He kept one arm firmly around her shoulders, pressing her close to him even once they were in cover, with backs to the pillar.

"My pribe, mosbly." Cagalli replied, spitting again to clean the copper taste out of her mouth. She held one hand up to her face and brought it away wet... stupid nosebleeds... she'd probably broken her nose, landing on it like that and there was probably a gash on her forehead too. "Who saib you coulb save my libe?"

"I'll remember to ask permission in the future." Athrun said, his voice slightly choked... if he'd been a second slower... no, less than a second slower, Cagalli would have been cut down by the merciless fire of the enemy. He didn't think his heart would stop hammering until it burst out of his chest, which should be any minute now, considering how he felt. "Don't scare me like that!" he admonished.

"I'b sorry, Abrun." Cagalli said, truly contrite. "I really screwed ub this time. Kisaka is going to kill me, I know it." she finally cleared the last of the blood out of her mouth and put pressure on her nose so she could talk normally.

"He might have to wait in line." Athrun muttered. "I'm not your number one fan right now either." Shotgun slugs dug craters out of the pillar a few feet above their head, followed by a spate of autmatic fire that left their ears ringing... plainly the enemy had realized what a prize had stumbled into their backcountry and was allocating forces to handle it... they didn't have much time. Unlike Cray, who was content to stay at a distance, blasting away, Athrun had the sick feeling that the special forces division troopers would not waste time closing the distance and ensuring a quick kill.

"Hey, you didn't have to come back after me... but you also told me that you didn't like the idea of running away and letting other people fight your battle for you." Cagalli retorted, checking to make sure her gun was still alright... it hadn't jammed during the tackle by Athrun.

"Just like you didn't have to follow me into GENESIS." Athrun replied, knowing she wouldn't be able to answer that one. He was right too. She just gave him a narrow look, like she usually did when he really scored a good point. "Yet you did and so did I, now." His breathing slowed as he gathered himself... now that they were here, they might as well make the best of it and help out. He closed his eyes and watched the seed fall... this wasn't his preferred battlefield... he'd need every edge he could muster. "Future concerns aside though... we're here, now and there are people trying to kill us. Let's return the favor, eh?" Before she could reply, Kisaka came hurtling out of the maintenance tunnel, already in a rolling dive for cover, managing two or three shots from his pistol to keep the heads of the enemy down as he came. He reached their cover with nary a scratch on him, breathing calm and measured, fierce light glinting in his eyes as he tugged a pair of compact LAG's down over them.

"Wonderful... the Hellhounds. I expected as much... though not so many of them." Kisaka said calmly. "I'd really rather face a group of ZAFT redcoats... at least they're usually too cocky for their own good."

"I'm..." Cagalli started to say. Kisaka waved it off, handing over two more sets of LAG's, little more than sunglasses in shape and size.

"These are civilian models and they won't last for long on the batteries, but if we're engaged for more than thirty minutes or so anyway, we're all more fortunate than we have any right to be. And not being able to see... intolerable." Kisaka explained. He paused. "We're going to have a very, very, very long talk after this is over, princess. Athrun will be attending as well. We're going to have to work out a few things between the three of us or else I'll be forced to keep you strapped to a hospital bed for the rest of your natural life... if for no other reason than to allow myself to sleep well at night." he continued, still calm. "I trust there are no objections?" he did not receive a reply, which he took as agreement. "Now, this is not going to be easy... TEMPEST is outnumbered heavily and pinned down. So are we... and we're not wearing armor. The enemy is well armed, well armored and extremely well trained. Consider them all about as good as I am, and you'll start to get the picture."

"HEY! KISAKA! YOU OUT THERE!?" Waltfeld's voice called from the tunnel. Before any of them could reply, a long bout of automatic rifle fire sprayed the tunnel entrance, raising enough dust to form a small cloud that hung in the air for several seconds after the gunfire stopped. There was a multiple second pause. "OKAY! YOU'RE HEAVILY ARMED. I GET IT! BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY..." Waltfeld continued, his voice unimpressed. He was cut off again, this time by multiple shotgun blasts and a hucked grenade which bounced through the doorway, detonating seconds later in a smear of light and noise that left everyone in the immediate area with their heads ringing like a struck gong.

"I swear, I don't understand him sometimes." Kisaka said, bouncing to his feet and spinning around the pillar, snapping off four quick shots at the Hellhounds he could see, missing three times and wounding one man in the shoulder. "He's a brilliant commander and a likable man... but his actions are inexplicable sometimes." he dropped back behind the pillar. A vibration and ringing came from one of Kisaka's pockets. He fished out a cell phone and tossed it to Cagalli. "Answer that... and keep your head down or I'll shoot you someplace non vital to keep you down."

"I thought I was supposed to be in charge." Cagalli muttered mutinously, but she did as ordered. "Yes... this is Cagalli. Yes, Mr. Waltfeld, there are a lot of enemies out here. Me? I'm fine... just a few minor injuries... Athrun inflicted. Kisaka is busy. So is Athrun..." Cagalli kept up the running report as Athrun threw himself flat out in the open firing three times to perforate the head and throat of a Hellhound who had tried to run to within grenade range. Athrun was yanked backwards by Kisaka just inches ahead of a spurt of auto fire. "Yeah, they're real busy. Kisaka won't let me fight. No, I'm not going to tell him that. He's not very happy with me right now. Neither is Athrun. Listen, you! Wait... what? You're gonna do WHAT WITH LACUS?"

"Why do I have a bad feeling all of a sudden?" Kisaka groaned. Cagalli looked up from the phone, her eyes wide.

"Waltfeld requests covering fire... as much as you can give him." she informed them.

"What's he planning on doing?" Athrun asked suspiciously. "You didn't sound too happy."

"You wouldn't like it." Cagalli replied. "Hell, I don't like it either. Kira doesn't like it. Just about the only person who does like it so far is Waltfeld. But Lacus gave her permission and that is that, apparently."

"Gave her permission for what?" Athrun asked, even more suspicious now.

"Just shoot, damn it! There's no time to explain!" Cagalli retorted. Athrun and Kisaka traded glances and then both ducked out of cover, pistols firing as fast as they could pull the triggers. Almost at the same time, more pistol fire came from the maintenance tunnel, as Waltfeld and Murrue came charging out, laying down a wall of fire as Kira came out behind them, Lacus held in his arms, face pressed close to his chest. Dr. Simmons stayed in the tunnel... she had no place on the battlefield, but she couldn't bring herself to just up and leave either. Murrue, Waltfeld, Kira and Lacus quickly made their way over to another pillar, about thirty feet to the right from Athrun, Cagalli and Kisaka. The phone buzzed again and this time Cagalli handed it to Kisaka. They saw Waltfeld hand his gun to Murrue and take the cell phone from Lacus. At thirty feet in the noisy room the cell phone was the only way they could be sure to hear each other, using them like two way radios.

"So, I assume you have some sort of logical reason for risking Ms. Lacus's life?" Kisaka barked into the phone. He listened for a minute, as the enemy continued to pour fire at them to little avail, though the opposite face of their pillar was looking much the worse for the wear.

"Why are they not shooting at them?" Athrun asked in a low voice.

"Hmm?" Cagalli asked, gun back in her hands... she'd stay low but that didn't mean she couldn't shoot back.

"All the Hellhounds... even the ones closer to Kira and Lacus... they're shooting at us and utterly ignoring Commander Waltfeld and Captain Ramius. They're concentrating all their fire on us, ignoring a threat closer to them to do it... it doesn't make any sense."

"Huh... you're right." Cagalli watched, noticing like Athrun had that no bullets dinged off the pillar Kira and Lacus were behind. "Unless they've been given orders not to shoot at them. Maybe they want to take them alive?"

"But they want you dead? No, Lacus is popular, but you're Cagalli Yula Attha... in Orb there isn't any girl more popular than you. Why would they shoot at you but not Lacus?" Athrun replied, frowning. "These guys work for Blue Cosmos... they should want Lacus dead before you. I don't like this."

"I'm not particularly fond of it either... we're getting shot at more than our fair share." Cagalli said with a grin that quickly faded when Athrun did not share it. "No point in worrying about the unknown... better they shoot at me and you anyway... at least we shoot back. Speaking off... shouldn't we be doing more of that?" she looked over at Kira and Lacus, who were hugging each other tightly. _Geez brother, can't you pick a better snuggle time?_

"So, is this close enough?" Kira asked Lacus, holding her to him, one hand on her back, the other on her head. The noise in the room was overwhelming... not because it was particularly loud, though it was far from quiet, but because of what it was... the sound of thousands of gunshots and small explosions blending together into a medly of destruction and high speed death.

"To the people in the room, yes. To you, not nearly so." Lacus said with a small smile, her eyes closed. She had her hands pressed firmly to her ears, trying to block out the sound of the room as much as possible... it was hard to concentrate with so much white noise. "There's at least thirty of the enemy in here... it's hard to tell, some of them keep flickering in and out of my vision. I don't know why... maybe Katie would but she's out of reach, isn't she?" Lacus said in a louder voice as Kira closed his arms about her even more tightly. To Lacus, with her eyes shut, the room was an entire different place... a large blank void filled with shadowy representations of objects she could not quite make out and populated with more than thirty, perhaps more than forty flickering mental representations... most varicolored soldiers, sometimes worse things, a few better, but she didn't get any sense of the wrongness or evil she sensed from Cray or Frost or Cervantes or other people like them. "Alkire... Raine... Victor... James... Vlad I think... yeah, they're all alive still." Lacus reported, brow furrowed in concentration.

"How many are coming after us?" Waltfeld asked, crouching down next to them as Murrue fired several shots just over their heads, forcing a couple Hellhounds to stay under cover long enough for Athrun and Cagalli to pick off another enemy between them.

"Ten? Maybe? Most of them seem concerned with killing Alkire and TEMPEST but theres a significant portion of them... oh no." Lacus replied, her brow creased in sudden worry..

"Oh no? What do you mean, oh no?" Waltfeld demanded. Lacus was spared from answering that question, as it practically answered itself. In sharp contrast to the stealthy and precise movements of the Hellhounds, a tide of screaming, shouting and shooting Earth Forces infantrymen came pouring out of two of the subway tunnels, spreading out into the room like an avalanche. Their weapons were not flash supressed or silenced and the volume in the room rose from deafening to excruitiating... it was no longer possible to communicate even with the cell phones. Everyone was forced to duck back into cover and stay there... to expose even a small part of your body was to risk getting shot multiple times.

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"Sorry to have to do this." Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory mumbled to himself, dropping his gatling gun as it ran out of bullets after he'd sprayed the TEMPEST fortifications yet again. The fortifications were hastily built, but built they were and they were just about the only things keeping the enemy forces alive, though they were starting to disintegrate now under the renewed weight of fire from the infantry company reinforcements. Glory had listened in to the men reporting the sighting of Cagalli Yula Attha and then Lacus Clyne. Why the two girls had returned to the fighting was beyond him, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Personally, he didn't have anything against either girl... to be truthful he rather admired them both... if more girls their age had that sort of drive and committment he was sure peace would be far more quickly accomplished. But to Glory, orders had always been orders... you didn't get into the Hellhounds... didn't survive the kind of missions Glory had survived... by questioning the sometimes idiotic and unethical orders you were given. The decision to massacre the civilians above on the streets was beyond reprehensible, but even Glory knew there was nothing he or even the LT and the rest of Alpha team could have done... the order was already given and even killing Cervantes would have done nothing to stop the killing. But more to the current point, the orders were to kill Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha. And he was currently in a perfect position to accomplish at least half that goal. He unslung the missile launcher with its single remaining missile from his back and swung it up onto his shoulders with a reassuring thump.

It wasn't easy aiming the bulky weapon from behind the cover of the pillar he'd been using as a bastion... in fact it was impossible, since the remaining tube was the one closest to his own head, the bottom left tube... standing behind the pillar, if he fired, he would only blow himself up. He gauged the amount of fire in his immediate vicinity and nodded with professional concern and determination. With the infantry firing all over the place, it wasn't exactly safe for anyone to be out of cover, but he was safe enough for his purposes. His armor should be able to handle any stray shots or richochets and if not... well, it wasn't like it would be the first time he'd added a few ounces of lead to his bodyweight. With a single fluid step he cleared his cover and advanced forward, dropping to one knee with the missile launcher aimed towards the access tunnel where the girls had come from several minutes before. The weapon had two modes of firing... point and shoot, which he had used up to this point... and aimed fire, using a wireless connected laser designator for precision fire. A crosshair window winked into appearance on his HUD inside his helmet, showing him exactly where the missile would impact. He centered the crosshair over the bullet riddled pillar that sheltered Cagalli Yula Attha. _Best to get rid of the combatants first... a ten year old with a bird gun could kill Lacus Clyne... not so much with Cagalli Yula Attha._ He tongued his helmet mic. "All allied forces, 'ware incoming missile to CYA's position." His finger slowly and smoothly started to squeeze the trigger as the rifle fire pinning Cagalli Yula Attha and her friends down slackened off as the soldiers flattened themselves into cover to avoid any flying fragments. "Better luck next time."

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"What do you mean, "She came back"!?" Alkire screamed hoarsely into his comm system, diving headlong for a low stack of replacement subway rails as he did so, hypervelocity bullets from the Hellhound he'd been fighting since the beginning of the fight nipping at his heels, leaving divots in the cement in a trail marking his progression through the supply park. _Still not out of ammo yet... what's the capacity of the Gladius again? Fifty bullets, right? He must have reloaded at least four times by now... he's got to be running tight on ammo... and then he'll be down to his secondary weapon._ Alkire thought smugly. Smugness died sharply though, when he thought about his own situation. He'd never been one to just run for cover... he'd shot back as much if not more than his opponent had shot at him. His own assault rifle had a magazine of thirty rounds and he'd gone through seven magazines during this whole running fight in the subway tunnels, with two magazines remaining before he too was on his knife and pistol. He'd sometimes thought of going with a weapon like the Gladius, with its superior ammo capacity... but he liked the targets he shot to stay down once shot and the caseless rounds of a Gladius, despite their speed, lacked the stopping power of his heavier and larger bullets... it took three or more good shots from a Gladius to put an armored man down for good... his rifle could do the same with one bullet.

"I mean Cagalli and Lacus have entered the battleground and are currently pinned down by overwhelming enemy fire on the far side of the junction from you. The addition of all these fucking infantry to the mix sure hasn't helped matters." Raine replied, her voice equally strained as she attempted to return fire without much success... she could get off one or two shots, or maybe a short burst of auto fire, but any more time exposed than that would get her shot full of holes. It was intensly frustrating... it had been unfair when they were just fighting the Hellhounds... now it was just impossible with the addition of seemingly hundreds of fresh and eager infantry.

"Well, doesn't this just clusterfuck everything?" Alkire muttered to himself. "The whole plan, down the tubes because two stupid little girls couldn't follow the most basic human instinct... to run away from a threat you can't overcome. I swear to god, if Kisaka doesn't, I'm going to tan both their hides once we get out of here... Coordinator boyfriends or not. This is insane!" He had lifted his head momentarily, but was forced to almost slam it down into the ground as several more bullets grazed the top of his helmet... too close. A wicked clang sounded as a heavy gage shotgun slug dug a two inch crater in the solid steel of the rail piece next to his head, the whisper of the deformed slug flying past his head was loud enough to almost feel. "How can a man be that fucking accurate with a goddamn heavy underslung shotgun?" Alkire complained, trying to become as thin as paper.

"What'd you say!?" Raine asked, ducking before another storm of bullets could chew her to pieces along with the walls behind her and her rapidly deteriorating brick and bench barricade.

"Nothing important. Can we reach their position and make a fighting withdrawal into the maintenance tunnel?" Alkire asked, rolling onto his back and gathering himself for another forward push. He popped up from behind the rail pieces in a sitting position, rifle up and mostly aimed with one hand. His opponent was caught out in the open, in the middle of sneaking closer to more advantageous cover. "Oopsie." Alkire smiled wickedly. His rifle bucked and tried to twist itself out of his grip as he emptied the magazine in a torrent of hot shell casings and foot long muzzle flashes, twenty four heavy bullets spraying out to mutilate the enemy. Or at least they should have... whoever his opponent was... Alkire had a strong suspicion that was only reinforced now... had reflexes almost like some of the Coordinators Alkire knew... as soon as Alkire had popped up, gun in hand, the Hellhound was already moving, sprinting and diving-rolling to get behind some kind of protection. Alkire knew he'd at least winged the man once or twice, but he doubted he'd struck solidly enough to end the fight... there wasn't enough blood on the ground.

"You're kidding, right?" Raine answered. "There must be at least sixty hostiles between us and them, plus another sixty or so approaching their position from various angles... it's safe to say, I think, that the enemy knows Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha are in the room."

"And what is our condition?" Alkire replied, his mind whirling, trying to come up with some sort of strategy. He ejected the spent magazine and slammed in his second to last, scrambling to his feet and racing another fifteen feet closer to Raine and the others before two bullets tagged him high on his right shoulder. The bullets didn't quite penetrate his armor, but the bruises were going to be terrific in the morning and the force of impact was enough to spin him forward in a face plant. His head bashed painfully against the inside of his helmet as he skidded along the ground, ending up where he'd planned on going, behind a rack of paint cans. Stunned by the impacts, Alkire lay still, his arms outflung and body limp. "Maybe it's time for a little subterfuge..." he whispered to himself, forcing himself to stay relaxed and limp, as if unconscious. He knew he was lucky he was mostly behind cover... he would never trust an enemy to be dead or incapacitated in a situation like this until he shot him a few more times to be sure and it was unlikely his foe would be less cautious. _Unless of course he's pressed for time and has an overriding mission objective... like the deaths of two females of my acquaintance._ Somehow it felt almost sinful to palm an enemy off onto Lacus and Cagalli, but if it worked, who was he to argue?

"Desperate. We're all on the last couple mags... James still has a full load on his grenade launcher, but getting the opportunity to use it is going to be hard. Vlad is down to his pistol and throwing knivesbefore he has to start meleeing... and the .50 cal is down to less than a quarter load. The fortifications are starting to fail too... a few more minutes and we're going to be relying on wishes and luck to keep the lead out of our systems. We're just lucky none of the enemy has closed to within grenade range or we'd probably already be dead. I don't see how we're going to get out of this one, Alkire. We're pinned down... running out of ammo... massively outnumbered... starting to get wounded... mission a failure... we're really S-O-L, wouldn't you say?" Raine replied, double tapping a too eager member of the infantry who'd tried to get within grenade throwing range. The kill brought little elation... even if she did likewise every time she shot, she'd still run out of bullets before running out of enemies.

"Never say die, not even when the reaper himself is standing over you." Alkire replied, trying to sound cheerful and confident, though both emotions had scant presence in him at the moment. "We've all been in tight spots like this before... maybe not THIS screwed, but similar. We'll think of something." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Wait one." _C'mon you slick bastard... come on and confirm your kill already._ Alkire thought as he felt the rack of paint cans judder slightly as someone else bumped up against them on the far side from Alkire. Fortunately the rack of cans was too heavy and well positioned to tip over... the Hellhound would have to actually come around the rack to check him. _That's it... a little more... come on, shithead, just look around the corner already... I ain't moving._ His eye's barely caught the motion down low on the ground... a fiber optic camera cable, pushed around the corner to allow the enemy to check him while remaining perfectly safe. _Son-of-a-bitch. Gonna make me do things the hard way._ Alkire slowed his breathing, making his chest rise and fall in the deep rythyms of a person in a deep sleep. He let his grip loosen on his rifle and allowed his head to loll about loosely on his neck, doing his best to mimic someone who was semi-conscious at best. He heard a faint scrape as the camera was withdrawn. It was tough looking out of the corner of his eyes, watching both ends of the paint rack for the enemy. Nothing happened for almost thirty seconds. _Bastard better not have just left or I'm going to feel really stupid._ Almost as he thought that, the Hellhound came around the corner.

The man didn't just step around the corner... he came in a rolling combat dive, rifle up and aiming even as he came to his feet. The Hellhound stood over Alkire's limp body, his stance tense for a long few seconds while he observed his fallen foe. Finally, he relaxed a tiny fraction, gun still held aimed at Alkire's head, but attention perhaps not fully upon him, Alkire sensed. He might have heard the exceedingly faint crackle of short ranged radio communications... whatever it was he knew that his chance was now. Abandoning his rifle on the ground, Alkire almost threw himself to his feet, legs lashing out to kick the enemy in the shins, knocking him off balance, Alkire ducked his head in close to his chest so that the automatic tightening of finger on trigger sent the hot burst of bullets whizzing just over his head and into the ground behind him. He gained his knees and reached upward with both hands, gripping the Hellhound by the wrist with one hand, forcing the gun up and away from him, the other hand balled into a fist which struck his enemy solidly in the gut, elicting a grunt of pain. Unfortunately, the armor killed much of the force of the blow and the enemy was quick to respond.

Dropping his own rifle, his free hand snatched for his pistol in a lightning fast quick draw, while he turned his backward stagger into a rearwards fall, lashing out with one of his own feet to kick Alkire squarely in the sternum, throwing him backwards, the breath knocked from him and his grip torn free from the Hellhound's wrist. Even as he fell, the Hellhound's pistol was in his hand, already aiming at Alkire. _Well, that confirms it. Only one guy I know of in the Hellhounds with a quick draw like that. Damn it all, why do I always pick the tough guys to fight?_ Alkire bemoaned as he twitched to the side as the heavy bullet left a trail of fiery pain along his side where it grazed him. He snatched out his own pistol as he hit the ground and fired back twice, missing once and nicking the Lieutenant's shoulder with the other, throwing out a divot of armor-cloth. Cyprus ignored the pain and altered his aim to a more true angle to fire again. Before he could though, Alkire fired once more... the fateful bullet struck not a single portion of Cyprus's flesh, but impacted squarely upon his pistol, tearing it from his grasp. Surprised at an event which usually confined itself to the pages of fiction or the false glamor of the movie screen, Cyprus hesistated for a near fatal moment. Another bullet from Alkire creased his sleeve, leaving a bloody wound in the process and the famed LT jerked back into action.

Rolling to the side, narrowly escaping two more desperate shots from Alkire, Cyprus regained his feet and instead of retreating actually dived forward, leaping bodily on top of Alkire in a grapple. Alkire felt iron strong hands grab his gun hand and slam it against the ground repeatedly, despite his best punches to the abdomen and chest, which elicted pained grunts but no results. His hand quickly went numb with pain and soon after he heard the metallic skitter of the gun bouncing out of his hands. Almost instantly, both men went for their knives, drawing them in near identical motions... they'd likely been trained by the same men or even man. Despite that, they fought in entirely different styles. After pushing apart from each other and regaining their feet, both men squared off. Alkire stood in a half crouch, body full on to Cyprus, knife in his right hand held low, his left arm held up high to block or grapple. Cyprus stood side on to Alkire, knife held high in his left hand, held almost like a sword, right hand low and held straight like a second blade. For a brief moment both men stood still, sizing each other up. Alkire took the lead, giving a shout partly muffled by his helmet as he ducked forward, knife ripping upwards for a disembowling strike, left arm bent like a shield to block a downward swing from Cyprus. Cyprus did not oblige him, instead spinning inside Alkire's reach, flesh passing millimeters from the honed steel knife edge as his free hand snapped upwards, speared fingers stabbing into Alkire's lower ribs, the concentrated force of the open hand attack easily penetrating the pectoral armor as Cyprus's finger tips actually penetrated his skin between his ribs, drawing blood and more than a little pain.

_What the hell kind of counter was that... that wasn't anything they taught us at EFSOU!?_ Alkire complained mentally as he stumbled backwards, left arm now low and covering his wound, knife up high to block. Cyprus was already back into his stance, the same one as before. Alkire snarled and bared his teeth... fancy moves or not, Alkire wasn't going to lose a knife fight like this. Not even against the Lieutenant of EFSOU. This time he charged, punching with his free hand, which Cyprus blocked with his own hand, and slashing with his knife in a roundhouse cut that Cyprus bobbed under with ease. Both had been feints, letting Alkire build up the momentum to leap into the air in a spinning side kick, which landed squarely on Cyprus's left hip, doubling the man up and throwing him backward. Alkire landed after completing the spin and kept moving... momentum was key in a fight like this... he couldn't let up the pressure. However, Cyprus wasn't nearly as hurt by the attack as he'd thought... by the time he'd landed Cyprus was already standing upright again and was moving to counterattack. He'd shifted stances, now bouncing forward and back on his legs almost like a boxer. As Alkire came forward Cyprus feinted forward with his knife, drawing Alkire's own blade out wide before dropping low, kicking out with both legs in a sweeping strike, balancing himself on his free hand, kicking Alkire's legs out from underneath him. Collecting himself, Cyprus pounced forward as Alkire hit the ground, knife drawing a crimson trail along Alkire's back down to his buttocks as Cyprus dived completely over him, landing in a roll and spin that brought him back to the ready within seconds.

Arcing his back at the unexpected pain, Alkire cried out, but kept moving, rolling to the side, leaving a long line of red on the ground as he did so, before getting to his feet with only a slight stumble. The two men stared at each other from several feet away, both breathing slightly heavily but by no means exhausted. They didn't say anything... though acquianted, talking between foes on the field of battle was not a vice either man indulged in. What of consequence could they really have to say to each other when engaged in a life or death struggle? This time it was Cyprus who started the attack, lunging forward, knife sweeping down like a sword from on high. Alkire brought his own blade up in a block, the two combat knives throwing off small blue sparks as they met. The shock of contact was such that both men lost their grips on their weapons, knives not being designed to be used like swords. Not pausing a moment, they both went after each other like mauling tigers, neither giving an inch. Alkire fought with closed fist punches, with an elbow thrown in here and there for flavor and perhaps a knee to mix things up. He did not try to grab Cyprus, knowing that with his back wound he would be at a serious disadvantage in a grapple.

Cyprus on the other hand kept his distance, compartively speaking, fighting in a very defensive manner, waiting for Alkire to strike at him before counterattacking in swift, efficient strikes using chops of his hands, speared fingers or long sweeping kicks from his shins and feet. Alkire landed an enormous roundhouse punch to Cyprus's jaw, sending the man stumbling backwards, only to return with a open palm gut punch that left Alkire bent over, vomiting slightly inside his helmet. Sensing his advantage, Cyprus suddenly closed the distance, grabbing Alkire by the arms and slamming him into a grapple, quickly working his way around to where he was behind the TEMPEST operative, one arm around his neck, the other slamming punches into his sides and lower back. It would only have gone downhill for Alkire from there if Fate hadn't decided that perhaps dying in a subway tunnel wasn't the best way for Alkire to leave this world. "JAMES! DON'T!" Raine's voice suddenly clamored over both his radio and audibly, the tone of voice causing both men to momentarily cease their struggles.

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James had seen Glory step out of cover and swing up the missile launcher into firing position. For a long moment he'd thought the game was finally up... their hastily built barricades would stop bullets and even grenade fragments, but an anti-vehicle missile was quite another story... the barricades would only serve to sop up their bloody pulped bodies if that thing hit anywhere nearby. But then he saw that Glory wasn't facing at all towards them and there was hardly room in the rail junction for the fly by wire guidance systems of the missile to kick in. His mind and heart had calmed and then rapidly accelerated again... if Glory wasn't going to be firing at them then who else would he be shooting at? There really weren't that many more options and of them, only two made sense. Lacus Clyne or Cagalli Yula Attha. Both were pinned down about forty yards away, by the maintenance tunnel doors they should never have come back out of. Their cover was just about as solid as James's own... perfectly fine against bullets but again, a missile was not even close to a bullet. If Glory fired that missile, one or perhaps both of the girls would die... the odds of Glory missing at practically point blank range were almost nil. Victor and Raine had yet to notice the predicament, their arcs of fire and vision not including Glory. James locked eyes with Vladimir and both men nodded as one, in linked understanding. If either girl were to die here, now and today, not only would it be a loss for them and the people they knew, it would be a nigh irrecoverable loss for the world as a whole, perhaps mortally wounding any chance of a cohesive peace movement, either here in Orb or world wide. They could not allow it to happen. There was no time to give warnings or make plans, Glory was already settling the launcher onto his shoulder and bracing himself on one knee in preparation for firing.

James threw down the automatic shotgun he'd appropriated from Vlad, it was nearly spent anyway. He scrambled to his feet, snatching up his beloved .50 caliber from beside him as he did so with his left hand, his right hand snagging the carry strap of the grenade launcher, slinging it up and into his right hand as he jumped forward off the platform, enemy bullets whizzing and shrieking by him on all sides. He bent his legs and tumbled into a roll when he landed, hearing bullets impact around him in a constant series of sharp cracks and whines. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Vlad sprint out of cover, pistol spitting bullets in the eerie quiet of a silenced weapon. He heard Raine shout over the comm line, and heard her through his helmet pickups as well, she'd seen him go but not Vlad. Within a second or so, Vlad had reached shadows and cover and was gone from James's sight, gone on whatever urgent mission he had dreamed up as a solution to the calamity waiting to happen. Glory was just finishing sighting in his missile when James came up from his roll, eyes darting all around as he struggled to divide his attention in such a manner that would allow him to live through the next few instants. He noted several places where the enemy fire still coming at him and his friends was heaviest.

Those places he aimed and fired his grenade launcher at, the revolving eight chambered cylinder spinning with rapid "whirr-clump-blam" noises as it cycled through its load of alternating HE and Frag grenades. 40mm grenades spat out of the launcher with tails of smoke and gases, the big, heavy projectiles spiraling into the shadows before detonating in flashes of light too bright to look at, throwing bodies and pieces of bodies wetly through the air. At the same time he opened up with his .50 cal, though it bucked and clawed at his one handed grip in a ferocious bid to escape his control he held on with the determined grip of a man defying the devil in his own hell. He aimed the heavy machine gun at Glory... well, he pointed it in his general direction anyway, and prayed for luck. Speaking of, his own was starting to run out as the infantry his grenades hadn't brutalized started to get their range on him, augmented by the remaining Hellhounds in the area. He heard and felt several bullets impact him high on the back, sending him stumbling forward into three more shots which impacted on his chest and gut, fortunately not quite penetrating his armor, causing him to stagger to the side and down to his knees as both the grenade launcher and .50 caliber clicked back empty. He saw several Earth Forces soldiers, infantry who had left the safety of cover to get better shots at him, get flung backwards, neat bullet holes between their eyes, and knew Raine was doing her best to pull his fat out of the fire with her uncannily accurate pistol fire.

He thanked her for the thought, but privately believed that he'd fallen a bit too deep into the coals to be saved by anything less than an utter miracle. He dropped his heavy weapons, yanking out his twin machine pistols as he did so. Glory had been hit by his desperate fire, bright blood pumping from a massive wound in his side, just above his hip where at least one .50 cal slug had burst through his armor like it was wet paper and lodged itself deep within his body. He was still on one knee, still trying to aim the missile launcher, but he was wavering towards unconsciousness. Finally the blood loss claimed the big man's higher mind and he toppled backwards, but at the same time his finger tightened on the trigger, launching the missile with a monstrous blast of fire and noise that utterly quieted the room for a moment as soldiers started in surprise, even forewarned as many were. James's heart leapt into his mouth as he perceived the trajectory of the missile, which was nearly horizontal. He watched with dread in his eyes as time seemed to slow, the missile loafing towards Cagalli's position with streamers of stop motion fire spewing from its tail end. The projectile seared within feet of the pillar behind which Cagalli hid, passing above and to the left, pulled off target in the final moments by Glory's lack of consciousness. The missile traveled perhaps another fifteen feet before striking the back wall in a roiling ball of fire and smoke, throwing out a concussion wave of sound and blast force that stunned everyone within thirty feet of the impact point.

James had been so concentrated on the missile that he did not notice two other things. The first was the rending of metal as the solid steel maintenance hatch that covered one of the entrances to the power and communication line tunnels was punched off its mounts by Frost as he at long last reached the rail junction. The BCPU slithered face first out of the tunnel at just about the same moment that Glory's missile impacted on the wall about fifty feet away, so perhaps James could have been forgiven for missing him, especially because of how fast Frost moved and the conditions James was under. Besides, Frost lacked any real ranged weapons and posed no immediate threat to James. This was not true of the second thing... rather the second person. Asmodeus stepped around the same pillar Glory had abandoned to fire his missile, having backtracked after Kisaka and Waltfeld had joined Cagalli, he'd planned on coordinating a cohesive multi-flank attack on their position, but when he'd heard Glory's missile warning he'd been willing to accept that as well, though it was messier than he normally liked. It would be more of a chore identifying the various corpses afterwards, but he could deal with that. Until James Ramsgoth had to play action hero, defying the odds to disrupt Glory just enough to cause him to miss by the barest margin. Asmodeus could not let an irritant like that stand. As he stepped around the pillar his custom pistol was already rising, the blue laser target sight playing along James's body from less than twenty feet away. Asmodeus smiled a thin smile behind his mask as he noted how Ramsgoth's head was turned slightly away from him. _Sloppy... not a mistake he'll get to make twice._

James never heard the sound of the first gunshot, despite the fact that Asmodeus's pistol was less than twenty feet away, this was largely due to the massive integrated silencer built into the barrel but also owed to his distracted with relief mind. The impact he did not miss though. The full sized assault rifle bullet tore through his already weakened frontal armor with absurd ease, striking him on the right side, high, just under the collarbone, breaking it with a moist snap and a puff of blood that smeared his goggles on the right side. He didn't feel pain, just a insistent numbness that only grew as he fell sideways, still on his knees, rotating to face fully towards the man with the absurdly large handgun who had shot him, his own twin machine pistols rising with agonizing slowness, wavering in his hands for an unaccountable reason. He was just about to fire when Asmodeus shot him again twice more, this time in the center of his body mass, one right in the middle of his sternum, the other a few inches lower in the pit of his stomach. Like the first shot, both bullets penetrated his armor like it was barely there, the deformed slugs blasting entirely through him, leaving exit wounds big enough to fit a grown man's hand into. James heard five of his ribs snap from the sternum shot and his entire lower body seemed to melt with the gut shot... his collarbone and shoulder were just starting to ignite with pain as he collapsed backwards, fingers tightening on his machine pistol triggers, sending useless dual bursts of thirty low caliber bullets whining off into the shadows as both guns emptied themselves before he even fell halfway to the ground.

Voices of all sorts were screaming in his ears... some even felt like they were screaming inside his head... but James couldn't focus enough to pick them out as anything but white noise. His entire body was being enveloped by alternating waves of searing numbness and boiling agony, tending towards the numbness. A faraway logical part of his mind flagged this as an extremely bad sign, as only the very, very worst sort of wounds had pain that faded rapidly. Heknew he was going into shock, knew that he was losing blood at a far too rapid pace, but he couldn't seem to motivate himself to do something about it. His parents had always said he was a lazy bastard sometimes and right now, he was forced to agree with them. All he wanted to do now was close his eyes and fall asleep. But some part of his mind and training wouldn't let him just yet. He lay on the ground, staring blankly up at the brick ceiling, not quite seeing it as his eyes drifted in and out of focus. He watched bullets drift by overhead in the green half-light of his LAG's, he felt like he could see each little lead shell as it spun through the air, leaving an intricate spiral of displaced air in its wake. There were so many... dozens, hundreds even, all spinning through the air over his head, most heading back towards the way he had come... back towards Raine... and Victor... and the... others? There were more, he was sure, but he couldn't concentrate enough to remember who they were right now. Footsteps came from nearby and he tried to see who it was. "Raine?" he whispered. "Raine... I... I always wanted to say... I always did l..."

Asmodeus stared down at the big TEMPEST member. The man was rapidly bleeding to death and would leave the land of the living within minutes if he did not receive prompt medical care. The thin smile did not leave asmodeus's face, matched by the cold glare of his unchanging eyes, their color almost the same hue as the laser designator that drifted lazily along James's leg, up to his waist, along his heaving side, caressing along his neck and finally centering itself between the glowing green eyes of the LAG helmet. Rapid and intense fire from the infantry and remaining Hellhounds whipcracked past Asmodeus on all sides as the soldiers kept the other members of TEMPEST pinned down and unable to do more than pray for a lull before their pitiful fortifications gave up the ghost at last. Ramsgoth mumbled something inside his helmet, but Asmodeus neither knew nor cared what it was. "Thus always to fools." he muttered and pulled the trigger a fourth time. The helmets were armored... but not that armored. Blood and brain fragments coated his boots as Ramsgoth's head exploded with a sloppy snap and a squeal of feedback that seemed to come from within his own mind. He twitched and shrugged, swapping out the partially emptied magazine for a fresh and full one, ducking into cover again and heading back for Yula Attha... his job was not done. He passed several soldiers who were bent over as if sick, clutching their heads as if in pain. He paid them no heed... they were probably just green kids, in their first real battle... they'd get over the sickness soon enough.

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Cagalli was still disoriented from the missile concussion when another bomb of sorts seemed to explode... this time within her mind. There was a feeling of despairing sadness and then a scream that was far beyond the audible, an exclamation of sorrow and regret that tore through her like an invisible claw, leaving her feeling drained and weak as she wobbled her way through the darkness. She'd lost her borrowed pair of night vision glasses when the missile concussion hit... her short term memory was mostly a blur, really... she remembered being pushed by strong insistent hands... probably Athrun's or Kisaka's... pushed out of cover in the brief lull caused by the missile explosion, pushed farther back into a more secure location. She remembered a few things with crystal clarity... the bloom of light that was the explosion, the image of Kira and Lacus holding each other close, mouths open in synchronized yells as they reacted to something neither of them could see, since their eyes were closed. But everything else... including the present whereabouts of Athrun or Kisaka, were beyond her, currently. She was forced to feel blindly with her hands as she stumbled along the wall, trying to get some distance between her and the rest of the battle so she could clear her mind. Her questing hand, the one that was on the wall, suddenly met nothing but air and she toppled forward with a cry of surprise she quickly tried to stifle, a bit too late. She felt warm wetness running down her face again... her bloody nose had unclogged again, probably when the missile concussion hit. She held one hand to it, applying pressure again, but it was stubborn this time and it was still leaking sporadically as she picked herself up and continued along, free hand out and feeling blindly.

Suddenly her hand contacted something that wasn't stone, something warm and slightly yielding, covered in cloth. "Abrun?" she asked tenatively. "Kibaka?" she asked after a moment with no response. _Maybe they're hurt... unconscious even. Damn it all, I wish I could see something... its almost as dark as a cave in here. Stupid lights._ She moved her hand along the person, a frown starting to creep onto her face. Whoever it was had a massively muscled build... wherever her fingers probed they met only very slightly yielding flesh, slightly hot to the touch, curved and taut, bulged slightly in long ripples that could only be solid muscle. Athrun wasn't built that well, he was slimmer. Kisaka then, probably. But there was something wrong with that too... she was sure she'd grabbed whoever it was by the upper arm, but she'd been feeling out at her own chest level... at best she would have grabbed Kisaka by his lower forearm, given how tall he was in comparison to her. Also, Kisaka would have said something by now, or made some sort of noise even if hurt. But if it wasn't Athrun... and if it wasn't Kisaka... and Kira and Lacus and the rest were behind her... who the hell was this? At that moment one of the lights she'd been cursing flickered to momentary life, just overhead.

Cagalli froze, her mind derailed with sudden terror. Her hand was on the wrist of Zacharis Frost, who was standing before her, looking directly at her. His mouth was quirked upwards in a sneering smirk while his eyes stared her down with utter malice, like windows into the pits of hell. Faster than she could blink, he snatched his arm back and grabbed her by her wrist, his fingers locking around her arm like a steel vice. His other hand started to come up, slowly and deliberately, moving at a pace she could both appreciate and dread, with a sense of intent that was impossible to ignore. Frost was still reaching out for her when the light burned out in a violent flash, leaving her in darkness again. "If you could scream for me, that would be nice." Frost's voice was like a whetted blade. He sounded intoxicated, as if he'd just drunk his fill of some terrible elixer that had empowered him even more than he usually was. "I heard such a delicious scream a few moments ago... it filled my head with such pleasure as I cannot describe to you... give me an encore and perhaps I'll show you, eh?" Frost's hand touched her neck, slowly tightening the grip as he drew her closer to him until they were bare inches apart. "Scream for me." Frost ordered, his voice a whisper from death in the darkness. Cagalli could not help but oblige.

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Athrun shook his head once more to clear the lingering effects of the missile concussion. He was shaking, shivering with how close he had come to death. How close he and Kisaka and Cagalli had all come to death. If it hadn't been for the suicidal bravery of James Ramsgoth, that missile would have impacted right on top of them, rather than a good distance behind them... they'd have to be picked up with a mop, if that had happened. But thanks to James almost single handedly taking on a reinforced platoon of infantry and several special forces soldiers before wounding the man with the launcher in time to throw off his aim just slightly enough, that calamity had not occured. It had, however, been replaced by a calamity of a different sort. Horribly exposed and out in the open because of his mad rush to stop the missile launch, James quickly started to attract unhealthy amounts of fire, staggering to the left and right before being forced to his knees by multiple bullet impacts... none of which penetrated his armor but were doubtlessly painful. It was during this time that Kisaka pushed Cagalli off into the darkness behind them, urging her to find a safer place to hide, farther from the direct line of battle, just in case the enemy had another such missile handy. She hadn't put up much of a fight, dazed by the concussion of the missile, bleeding afresh from her likely broken nose, she'd trudged off into the darkness without a backwards glance. It wasn't until she was already out of sight that Athrun realized she'd dropped her NVG's back with them and was now wandering blind, for most intents and purposes.

He'd just picked them up and was about to go after her when he saw James jerk backwards, the explosion of blood visible even from almost forty yards away. James had been hit again, for real this time, high on the shoulder. The big TEMPEST member struggled to bring his weapons to bear on the aggressor, a thin man wearing a horned demon-dog mask with baleful red eyes, a monster pistol in one hand, a long straight bladed sword in the other. Asmodeus Sark, if the description Athrun had of him was at all accurate. The true Hellhound of EFSOU. As Athrun watched, horrified and unable to do a single thing to help, Asmodeus shot James twice more in the chest, sending the big man sprawling backwards in a flood of gore. James's pistols discharged uselessly to the sides as Asmodeus slowly approached him, weapon unwavering in its aim. "NO!" Athrun, Kisaka, Raine, Lacus, Kira and Alkire screamed as one. Their combined voicepower did not even slightly slow the bullet. James's head exploded in a wide splatter of brain and vital fluids. Asmodeus wasted no time on consideration, relaoding his weapon and melting back into cover before anyone could even attempt to throw off their shock and horror long anough to draw a bead on him. Just like that... a matter of seconds had passed and a man they had all known and befriended was dead, gone forever. It didn't seem real. Lacus's wail of sorrow and denial cut through the air like scissors through thick cloth. It cut through more than just the air.

Athrun's head filled with visions of everything he'd ever felt sorry or guilty about, all the memories assaulting him at once, overwhelming him, sending him crashing to his knees, hugging his head and crying in mixed anguish and agony. Next to him, Kisaka was doing similarly and a small part of Athrun's mind noticed that the junction had grown silent... he and Kisaka weren't the only ones affected by Lacus's inadvertant use of her Newtype powers. He did not know what she had done... all he knew was that he didn't ever want to feel that way again... he resolved to speak with Katie about possible methods to mitigate Lacus's influence on himself... he did not like being incapacited like this, even temporarily. Fortunately, the feelings of shame and guilt and long lost agony were quick to fade, just a brief detonation in his mind that left a sour aftertaste of bile in his mouth as he forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand... finding Cagalli. Unfortunately, only ten or fifteen seconds after the effects of Lacus's scream faded, a new scream came from nearby, this one easily recognizable as that of a girl in abject terror. Whereas Lacus had assualted his mind, this noise attacked his heart, the sheer fearful essence conveyed practically denying any possibilty that the issuer was in any predicament less than immediately life threatening. Cagalli was in trouble... big trouble from the sound of it. He had no idea how big until about five seconds later, when a bank of overhead lights, which had been intermittently flickering for some time now suddenly surged on bright as new, afflicted by some sort of power surge or something. To be truthful, his attention was not on the lights, but the sight they revealed.

Cagalli had just come around a pillar about fifteen feet away. She was walking awkwardly, which was understandable considering Zacharis Frost was walking right behind her, one arm pinning her left arm to her side while gripping her right wrist tightly, immobilizing both her arms, while his other hand rested almost negligently on her upper back, idly caressing the nape of her neck and playing with the disheveled ends of her hair. Frost held Cagalli in front of him in such a way that he was barely visible to Athrun... certainly not visible enough for Athrun to feel confident enough to risk a shot, even at this close range. Being shorter than his hostage was a decided advantage to Frost. "Well... the boyfriend. Imagine that." Frost lisped, his amusement almost tangible. Athrun heard the sharp intake of breath from Kisaka behind him as he took in the situation as well. To put it mildly, this was bad. Cagalli's face was frozen in a sort of half grimace, her eyes wide and staring, almost unseeing in her shock and fear. Athrun saw that and knew that she was in the grip of nightmares worse than he could imagine, and would be of little help in orchestrating her own escape. Not that he could blame her... there were few more dangerous and unhealthy places to be than held in Frost's grip.

Frost looked at Athrun and his grin grew. Though Yula Attha and Zala were not his primary targets, that did not mean he couldn't have a little fun with them. Like an appetizer, before he got down to eating the Pink entree. The quivers Yula Attha was giving off were quite flattering... she was literally so scared of him she had lost control of her fine motor skills... he was almost disappointed that she hadn't wet herself. Her boyfriend, Zala, looked like he was about to shit blood in his own terror of concern, while the enraged look on Kisaka's face was almost enough to remind Frost of himself in calmer moments. Frost decided to see what he could do to tweak the two men a little bit... if he could make them start quivering it would be simply delightful. "She's quite pretty, I will say. You're a lucky man, Zala." Frost commented. "Are her lips soft?"

"What sort of question is that?" Kisaka snarled, his fingers gripping his downturned pistol so tightly they were almost completely white.

"The curious sort." Frost replied. He waited a few beats of his heart. "Fine, don't tell me. I'll find out myself."

"Wait...!" Athrun cried out, but he was too late. Frost's hand darted up, grabbing Cagalli by the back of her head. With little exertion, Frost overwhelmed her tightly strung neck muscles and turned her head down and to the side, towards his own face, so that they were almost touching. He waited a few more heartbeats for Yula Attha to calm down enough to recognize what was about to happen. As soon as the revulsion started to creep across her face, Frost stood up on tiptoe and kissed her on the mouth, forcing his tongue along her teeth and gums, so roughly that he actually gashed the flesh before drawing away, licking the blood from her upper lip and the tip of her nose almost delicately as he pulled away. The fury and humiliation that warred with the fear in her eyes made him feel more alive than he had in months. He felt like a god.

"Mmmm... soft indeed. And with such a sweet and spicy tang to her blood... fiery almost. You're a very lucky man, Zala. Well, you were before today, anyway." Frost informed them. The looks on their faces were like fine condiments to the meal he had already taken from Yula Attha. Both men looked like they wanted to do nothing more in this world than kill him in an extremely violent manner. Zala especially was almost foaming at the mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry... did I offend you by kissing her? Huh... don't you worry... I'll do far worse to her soon enough. Maybe I'll even let you beg me to kiss her later, instead of what I want to do to her. Yes, I like that idea."

"You... sick... bastard...!" Athrun gritted out. Frost smirked.

"Running out of descriptive terms, I see. I could swear you've called me something like that before. At least call me a monster... I'm no bastard... I just don't know who my parents are. I cannot deny being a monster though." Frost paused. "As for being sick, I must disagree there as well. I've rarely felt better, actually. I haven't been this lucid since I was a fiver." Frost relaxed his grip on Cagalli's head, freeing up the hand to do a little exploration. He moved slowly and deliberately, ensuring that Zala and Kisaka could not miss a single movement.

"Damn you, don't you dare...!" Athrun trailed off, unable to voice threats dire enough to convey his feelings about seeing Cagalli being groped in front of his eyes by Frost. His voice failed him and he could only stare in pure hatred, powerless to help his beloved. A single move forward and she would be dead, killed in an instant by the fear and madness made incarnate standing behind her.

"Don't I dare what? Careful now, you wouldn't want to give me any more ideas than I already have." Frost taunted. He was so full of enjoying the effect of his actions on Athrun and Kisaka that he neglected to watch Cagalli as closely. She took advantage of this relative distraction to stamp her foot down solidly on his insole, a foolproof tactic for escaping a grappler that Kisaka had taught her long ago, while slamming her head backwards into his face, also a good tactic for discouraging a close assailant. Unfortunately, those moves were designed for use against fully human opponents and Frost was in no way fully human. He barely felt her foot stamp and her head butt didn't even draw blood when her head smashed his lips against his teeth. "Fiery indeed." he breathed in her ear, quite calm. "Let's see how far down the fire reaches, hmm?" He once again turned most of his attention to Cagalli, alert only for any overt movements from the two men while he drank in her desperation and shame like fine wines. It was because of this focus that he once again missed something. In this case, it was the slim and dark haired shadow that suddenly detached itself from the greater shadows of the railway junction behind him, stealing up on him on silent feet that he did not hear until the enemy was right up behind him. A blackened metal chain slipped quickly around his head, settling just under his chin before tightening against his throat. "What the-!?" Frost exclaimed, actually surprised.

"There's always a bigger monster." Vladimir whispered in Frost's ear as he twisted the handles of the garotte, looping the chain around itself and tightening it more and more with every twist, so that soon it started to cut into even the reinforced skin of Frost's throat. With a heave of effort Vlad lifted Frost up off the ground, causing him to release Cagalli in the process, half tearing off her shirt as his hands were lifted away and then dropped them both to the ground, with Vlad on top, landing with his elbows digging into Frost's upper back. "Get her out of here!" Vlad yelled through teeth clenched with effort. Even with a chain cutting into his throat, even without being able to breath and lying face down on the ground with a trained assassin laying on top of him doing his best to break his neck, Frost was putting up a massive fight. Most men would have been dead the moment they were lifted from the ground, but Frost was still lashing around like a beached shark, each heave almost dislodging Vlad from his back despite his best efforts to hold on. Vlad frowned... he knew he would not be able to kill the monster like this... Frost was too tough and too strong. The garotte was not enough. He banged the handles together and engaged the locking device in them before slamming his hands into Frost's back, propelling himself backwards and to his feet while crushing the short man into the ground.

Frost was up and standing in an instant, even as Athrun and Kisaka were starting to rush forward towards the still dazed Cagalli. The BCPU wasted not a single second... ignoring for a moment the chain still around his neck, he charged forward and lashed out at Athrun with a fist, flipping up and over to kick Kisaka square in the chest as he did so. Both blows were so fast neither man even began to block them, and both hit with enough power to send Athrun rolling backwards only barely conscious with a jaw that was likely cracked and Kisaka stumbling backwards so fast he fell over with several popped ribs and lay gasping for breath that would not come. Turning like a blooded lion, Frost ripped the garotte off his neck in a shower of metal shards and quickly clotting blood before turning towards the helpless Cagalli. "Nobody leaves, unless its to go straight to hell!" Frost cried maniacally, his eyes bloodshot and his mouth foaming. He raised his hands to tear the girl-flesh in front of him into tiny shreds. He was interrupted again, as an immense force struck him on the side of the head, actually drawing blood and sending him crashing to the ground again. He flipped to his feet again, only to meet a kick to the jaw that barely staggered him, then a solid blow to the stomach that forced spittle from his mouth.

"Goddamn it, Kisaka... Athrun... I can't keep him at bay forever! Get her out of here!" Vlad demanded, keeping the pressure up on the BCPU. By any man's estimation, Vladimir... Andre Forkav... was one of the most deadly men in the unarmed arts to currently walk the globe... and that estimation was before you took into account his mechanical arms, with strength and range of motion far superior to flesh and blood limbs. As things were, it was that strength that was the only thing keeping him alive... his other attacks, from foot or knee, just didn't have any sort of discernable effect on the BCPU 6. Athrun slowly rolled to his feet, gasping in pain, but stumbling forward to put his arm around Cagalli, who was sitting on the ground, weeping and shaking as the fear evacuated her body. Slowly, so slowly, they began edging their way away from the fight.

"Mechanical man... I remember you, from the forest." Frost raved. "I beat you then... I'll beat you now. I'll tear you limb from limb!" he charged forward, using no strategy besides brute force and bloodlust and his natural abilities.

"That's all too likely." Vlad replied sadly, ducking away from the mad charge before whirling back in, slamming three heavy blows into Frost's midriff, feeling flesh ripple and bones bend under the impact. He ducked low and spun, coming out with a spinning backhand that hit Frost right in the nose, breaking it and flipping the heavy little guy completely head over heels. Frost landed on his hands and flipped again, coming to his feet perfectly on balance. He licked his own blood off his lips and spat it to the side.

"Not nearly as good as her's. Or yours, I'm betting." Frost charged back in again, faster than before, his internal machines and augmentations coming to full combat mode, pumping him full of endorphines and pure adrenaline.

"Get her away, Athrun!" Vlad swore. "Get them away, Kisaka!"

"What about you!?" Kisaka called back, almost picking up Athrun and Cagalli after regaining his breath and his feet, hurrying them away.

"Since when did you ever give a damn about my life?" Vlad retorted, blocking one of Frost's punches with one fist, watching the metal hand shiver under the impact. He countered with a spearing straight thrust of his arm that penetrated his hand almost two inches into Frost's lower chest before the BCPU backed off to come again bare moments later from a different angle,speed and power still increasing. "I'm sorry that you can't be the one to kill me. You deserve to be the one... you or Waltfeld. I betrayed you and Robert and Raine and all the rest of my friends. I killed your fiancee... gunned her down in cold blood from the back, while she was carrying your unborn children, Kisaka! Spare not your pity for me... you shouldn't pity a man... a monster like me!"

"You talk too much... you bark like a little doggy. You know what happens to barky little doggy's?" Frost grunted. "Something like this." he grabbed Vlad's left arm with both of his own and planted his feet widely. With a heaving motion he lifted Vlad off the ground and whirled him around like a small child would whirl a ball at the end of a string. He completed two full revolutions before taking two steps forward and slamming the man into a pillar. There was a loud series of snaps and crunches as numerous bones broke in Vlad's legs, back and chest areas. Vlad coughed a bright jet of arterial blood, and more blood trickled from his ears and the corners of his eyes. "You said something about being a bigger monster than me? You look more like a victim." Frost declared.

"My name is Andre Forkav. I am the Strangler Horrificus... the slayer of hundreds of Coordinators. I am the bogeyman of modern legend... I terrorized an entire generation of people. Compared to me, you are just a tiny night horror, barely above the level of a psychopathic maniac killer from the movies." Vlad staggered forward, feeling the internal bleeding start to take its toll already. Another blow like that and he was done for surely. Hell, even without another blow like that, given his current injuries, he was done for anyway. He'd had a feeling of doom all day... now he knew why. It really was, his day to die. He was at peace with that... in truth it was a better death than he could have hoped for. He was helping defend the peace of the world, or the future peace anyway. He could not imagine a more noble cause for a monster to champion. "If you cannot tell the monster from the victim then perhaps you need a little schooling." Vlad suddenly lunged, displaying reserves of speed and endurance he had kept untapped for nigh on a decade now. His first blow to the face dropped the smirking Frost to the ground. With a howl of rage, Vlad leapt bodily upon him, straddling him and gripping tight with his knees, pounding strike after merciless strike into Frost's face and chest with his hands, the steel fingers bent into claws. To his surprise and constrenation, Frost started laughing.

"My, my, my, my... I'm getting nostalgic!" Frost cried even as Vlad started to draw blood, the repeated mighty blows splitting flesh and cracking bone. "You remind me of myself. Only problem is... I'm never this WEAK!" Frost screamed, suddenly jamming one his forward, fingers clawed as well. He struck Vlad square in the stomach with the force of a jackhammer, his hand punching entirely through the all too normal flesh and blood of Vladimir to protrude, wrist and all, from his lower back. Vlad paused, eyes boggling in unbelieveable agony, before he vomited blood, a torrent of it all over Frost. Vlad staggered back, Frost's arm withdrawing through him with a soggy suction sound. Vlad tried to say something, but no words would form. Frost was up in a heartbeat, a punch slamming Vlad backwards to impact another pillar, painting it with gore. Frost did not let up, raking his non bloodied hand along Vlad's chest, gouging the flesh and tearing the muscle away deep enough so that Vlad's upper ribs were visible afterwards. "Not so boasting now, are you, Mr. Forkav!?"

"Vlad! Vlad! Vlad, hear me!" Kisaka roared. "Damn it all, Vlad, you don't have to lie to me... I did the forensics on my wife's death myself... the bullets that killed her did not come from your gun! The bastard who killed her died only a few seconds after he shot her... Robert killed him. I didn't want to believe it... I blamed you anyway, because of the betrayal and how I felt about Mariel's death and the children... but Vlad... Andre... god damn it, you may have done me a terrible wrong... but I can still respect you for who you became! I can still thank you for what you've done! Don't die without knowing that you won't be forgotten... least of all by me!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! DAMN YOU ALL, SHUT UP ALREADY!" Frost bellowed. "I'm SICK OF THIS NOISE! TIME FOR SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE SOOTHING!" he grabbed Vlad by the shoulders and held him pressed against the pillars while he twisted and ripped at the man's shoulders, where the metal met flesh. Vlad did not scream... barely made any noise at all, his nerves already overloaded far beyond the point of feeling pain. Frost didn't notice or care... he was too absorbed in the sound of rending metal and tearing flesh. "That's right... that's right... not saying much now... no, he's not. Not saying much now... no." Frost rambled, finally clenching both hands and jerking them apart with all his strength. With the sound of bolts shearing and bone splintering, both of Vlad's mechanical arms were ripped from their sockets and tossed aside, the left clanging in a twisted heap against the wall, the right landing and skidding to a halt, damaged but whole, almost at Kisaka's feet. Relatively little blood gushed from the shoulder stumps... Vlad was almost bled out from his stomach wound anyway, only barely conscious and rapidly fading. "Die... die... die... die die die... DIE DIE DIE... **DIE!**" Frost chanted. "DIE ALREADY!" he drew back his fist one more time.

"And foresooth... justice is served. I accept my sentence with head held high and no complaints." Vlad threw back his head and shouted. "Thus dies the Strang..." he was cut off by Frost's fist bashing his entire face in, crushing the front of his head into a pulped mass.

"Die... die... die. DIE! DIE!" Frost panted. He started laughing again, even as a monumental explosion came from the streets above, rocking the junction to its foundations, partly collapsing the roof and knocking out all the lights, sending men stumbling this way and that in the darkness and dust clouds. Unnoticed in the chaos, the remaining members of TEMPEST along with their charges finally were able to make their escape... leaving two of their finest behind. No thoughts were on the dead... such would wait for later... all minds worried most about what had become of the civilians above and the Merciless.

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Author note: Sorry for the delay in posting... work has been more than hectic lately. I meant for this series of events to only fill up one or two chapters, but it just kept getting longer on me as I built up to the rather frenetic events near the end and it ended up being three chapters. For all that, theres still a whole nother half of the battle to go, with Cray facing off with Dearka, Miriallia and Ysak for what might be the final time. The focus will be shifting away from TEMPEST for the next while and will feature a lot more of the canon characters... this series of events was one I was building and planning for, for a long time now. In any case, I'm very strongly interested in what you all think of these three chapters and eagerly await any and all reviews... especially the ones longer than five sentences.


	75. End of a Nightmare, part 1

Completely heedless of the life and death struggles that waged themselves tens of meters below the soles of the Merciless's feet, Cray continued along his ordained path, rampaging through the city streets with wild abandon. He had long ago lost track of Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha... for all he knew he'd trampled them underfoot within moments of landing. He hoped that wasn't the case... that would be unsatisfying in the extreme. He was starting to grow bored though... smashing buildings and crushing cars and people was rapidly losing its novelty after about ten minutes of doing it. Sure, it was exhilirating and empowering, walking through the city like a god, crushing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, letting people live or die as he saw fit... but it wasn't nearly so fun when he didn't have anyone to lord it over that really understood. He needed to beat someone into the ground and leave them begging for mercy on their knees before him... that would make everything so much better. Problem was, the only other mobile suits around were allies and well outside his range regardless. In a slight fit of pique he jammed one of his hands into the side of a nearby skyscraper, spillings tons of crumbled and broken masonry onto the streets below, like a man might tear through a snow sculpture. "Something interesting better happen soon or I'm going to do something DRASTIC!" Cray announced to all and sundry over his external speakers. He received no reply. He checked his sensors and scowled, noticing how all the tall buildings, made of concrete and metal, were playing havoc with his radar and other sensors... his radar barely reached farther than his cameras did while he was down on street level

Fortunately for the thousands of innocent and terrified people within the several block immediate radius of the Merciless, two such interesting things as Cray was looking for were rapidly approaching from the harbor area, flying just above the tops of the buildings. The Duelist led the Grand Buster by perhaps a half mile, though it was the Grand Buster that was doing the searching for the enemy, with its far superior sensor suite. Not that it was extraordinarily difficult to locate the Merciless... they just headed towards the most recent looking plumes of dust and smoke and within minutes the massive thermal contact that could only be the Merciless appeared on the Grand Buster's LRR screen. "Well, I won't say I'm looking forward to this engagement." Dearka commented sourly, eyes sweeping the ground below, tightly packed with all sorts of large buildings, ranging from hotels to office complexes to multi-story malls and shopping plazas. "I never really trained for something like this."

"Yeah, the ZAFT training scenario planners somehow neglected to include a mobile suit battle inside a city fully populated with civilians... I wonder why?" Ysak retorted sarcastically. "It's not like we're here because we have any other choice."

"Can't you just let me gripe in peace? That was a rhetorical complaint... it did not require an analysis." Dearka responded.

"Require or not, it received one. And no... you never let me gripe in peace... why should I favor you?"

Miriallia did her best to tune out their bickering, even if it was good natured... it was still a distraction to her and right now she did not feel she could stand any distractions at all. The last time she'd been in combat in Orb, she'd been safe... relatively speaking... aboard the Archangel, while her friends went out and did the bulk of the fighting. Now she was going up close and personal with the enemy in her own home nation... she was just glad it wasn't her home city, since her stomach was doing flip flops as it was. And this enemy was worse than any Coordinator she had formerly feared and hated... Dearka and Ysak and Athrun did not exult in the killing of their enemies... they were soldiers, fighting other soldiers, and death was just part of that equation... there was only rarely personal emotion brought onto the field of battle. Quite the opposite with Cray... with him, every battle was personal, every death a victory he had to announce and display to the rest of the world. And that was why he had to die... the sooner the better. "Coming up on the Merciless now... we're three miles out and closing. No sign that he has spotted us yet." she announced, swallowing an enormous dry lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

"So how do we wanna do this?" Dearka asked, his voice turning calm and serious as he transformed himself from the loving, kind and friendly Dearka she was so much in love with, to the fierce and cold ZAFT soldier she knew from the battles with the Archangel. "The Grand Buster isn't exactly equipped for close range fighting... more than half my weapons are no goes down on the city streets... he may not care much about civilian casualties, but I can't just go spraying fire around indiscriminately."

"I'm not sure you or I have a choice in that regard. We have to decide... is it worth the risk to ourselves and the civilians to limit ourselves when we fight him? Is it better to try and defeat him over a longer period of time or quick and bloody... which will result in higher risk to the civilian population?" Ysak replied. "Like you said, he won't be holding back... last time we fought we went all out and barely got away with our lives... can we do any less now?"

"Damn it. That fucker is using the city like a shield, even if he doesn't know it." Dearka swore. "Look at the destruction... why would anyone... no, no I won't say something so obvious. Because that's the sort of person he is, that's why."

"When there is no good option, you can only go with what you think is best. I think you'd know about that better than anyone else, Ysak." Miriallia said, her heart and voice heavy. "This is the Merciless... thirty meters of destruction and doom made tangible. We cannot hold ourselves back. It tears at me to say it, but we have to go all out and just hope we can bring him down before too much damage occurs."

"I'll see if I can't lure him out into a more open area... perhaps onto one of the highways, where you can clobber him with less chance of taking out the buildings around him." Ysak said after a few moments pause. "I'll be taking this route." A cerulean blue line traced its way along the streets of the city before passing over the dot that was the Merciless before swining back around towards one of the major traffic arteries that brushed by the Government district of the city, of which the Merciless was just at the edge of.

"Understood. We'll be waiting here." Dearka placed a big green X onto the highway, a few hundred meters short of where the blue line crossed the multi-lane road. "I don't think I need to wish you luck."

"Save it for yourself." Ysak replied instantly, dropping down towards street level. "I make my own luck... though it would be more accurate to say I make unluck for the enemy. And today, Cray is going to be very unlucky indeed." He drew a beamsaber with one hand, warming up the chainsaw edge of his shield as he did so... it would be close work, right at his favorite range of battle. He landed and bounded forward, the Duelist taking ten meter strides as he ran along the streets full of abandoned cars, cloak flaring behind him like a tiny ribbon of night. The Grand Buster peeled away and descended in a long arc towards the highway, leaving Ysak alone and unsupported for the moment. The first blows struck against the monster who had killed Chanel were going to be his and his alone. Just the way he wanted it.

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Cray idly thrust the barrels of the dual hyper impulse cannon into the side of a building, tearing a huge gouge along it as he swung the heavy cannon forward and out, demolishing two floors and leaving the whole fifteen story structure leaning drunkenly forward about halfway up. He turned his torso to look down a side street and fired his six beam cannons, the greenish rays of heat energy carving molten trenches through the buildings and street, annihilating the unarmored civilian cars and trucks they happened to brush over in balls of fire and greasy smoke. Perhaps a hundred people who had been fleeing down this street went up in smoke and flames with the cars, their bodies ignited by the unimaginable heat, most dying before they even had a chance to voice their agony through lungs of ash. Cray rotated his torso again, almost one hundred and eighty degrees, facing another skyscraper, this one almost thirty stories tall... at least he never really had to worry about running out of new targets in a city. He smiled as he saw the horrified expressions on the faces of office workers looking out through the glass windows at the Merciless... plainly they either had not heard the word to evacuate or had elected to stay inside, thinking themselves safer there. A false impression he was glad he could relieve them of. The four 20mm CIWS guns in the head of the Merciless spun up to speed, while the other four CIWS guns mounted on his back also activated and began to swing about. Without further ado, Cray opened fire, the front CIWS raking the office building with hundreds of relatively small caliber shells, though each was more than enough to blow an armored human in half, while the back CIWS blasted away at the facades of other buildings and the street in random fire patterns, not really aimed at anything in specific.

Windows shattered in a hail of gleaming shards that fell like ice crystals to the streets far below, the deluge joined moments later by a rain of furniture, rubble, bodies and pieces of bodies as the explosive bullets hammered into the office building, walking back and forth along its entire length as the Merciless slowly turned its head. Hundreds and then thousands of people started flooding out of the ground level exits of the building, pointing and screaming as they tried to flee from their deaths. The paths of many of the panicked people brought them into the artifical storm falling down from the heights above, with people being crushed by desks and cabinets and cut to pieces by panes of glass that shattered like fragmentation grenades when they hit the streets. Most though ran away from the Merciless, filling the two lane street almost solid as they raced towards a T junction about two hundred meters ahead. Cray slowly turned, the CIWS guns silent for a moment as he adjusted his aim. Time seemed to freeze, a painting of atrocity just prior to commencement... the crowd of people, trampling their own friends and co-workers in desperation as they ran, the Grim Reaper's minion, the Merciless, almost gloating as its weapons spun and hummed in the morning air.

Cray's finger's were just touching the firing studs when a new variable entered the game. The Duelist, resplendent in blue and grey and white with orange highlights, its airy photon cloak floating around it like a shroud, came charging into view from the left fork of the T junction, skidding to a halt as it saw the Merciless and comprehended the situation. "Well now..." Cray breathed, pleasantly surprised. This wasn't something he'd been expecting, but come to think of it, he did have unfinished business with this person. The last time they'd met, Cray had enjoyed grinding the foe into paste beneath his feet, though sadly he'd been interrupted before he could finish the job. He did not see any allies of the Duelist around... good, he'd be able to finish the job this time, without distractions. Cray did not adjust the aim of his CIWS as the crowd of people slowed, unsure of which way to flee now that there was a Gundam ahead of them and a Gundam behind. They continued to move forward though, since the Duelist was far less threatening looking than the Merciless. "You've come to die, Ysak Jule." Cray announced over his external speakers.

Ysak did not reply... he had nothing he wanted to say to Cray. Words could not come close to expressing his disgust and loathing for the BCPU and he did not struggle to try and confine his feelings to words. Actions would be his only conduit. Without waiting for the BCPU to make the first move, he opened fire with his mounted ranged weapons, six missiles jumping from his hips on jets of smoke, joining a yellow railgun tracer and a stream of small caliber beam darts. Ysak did not intend for such attacks to actually harm the Merciless, merely to anger his easily unbalanced foe by stealing the perceived glory of first blood. He brought up his shield and held it before him, launching the three beam tipped grapples to follow his munitions.

Cray did not bother to dodge as the railgun round bounced off his chest uselessly, the missiles detonating to similar effect and the beam darts doing little but scarring paintwork and dig pinpricks into his outer layer of armor. The beam grapples were a different story... those could actually cause damage. He used his CIWS to shoot down one, sending it crashing to the ground in the middle of the crowd, sending up a bow wave of pulverized flesh as it landed, beam tip whipping wildly from side to side. He dropped the Merciless into a crouch and jumped forward, letting one grapple pass high and to the right. The other he took on the upper right arm, feeling the tip dig in through the armor, but hit nothing vital and left nothing but a jagged scar on that arm. All the same, he promised to take Ysak's own arm as payment for the insult. The macro-molecular grapple cables whined as they were rapidly retracted back into the shield of the Duelist, the grounded cable inflicting more injury and death as it was hauled back through the crowd. Cray smirked... he was sure that such wanton violence would weigh heavily on the conscience of his enemy... who was one of those people to which casualties actually meant something besides points.

The Merciless stood up again, planting its feet widely as it braced itself for its counterattack. The anti-armor shotgun fired first, followed by a long burst from the shoulder gatlings and finished with a massive flight of missiles from the leg launchers. Over half the munitions did not make it to the target area, their mostly unaimed paths leading them to strike the street and buildings that lined it. The sound of cracking stone and high explosives filled the street like an avalanche thundering down a rocky canyon as multiple buildings crumbled and collapsed, thousands of tons of concrete and steel dropping onto the ground and spilling into the street, inundating it and wiping the crowd of people from existence like they had never been there. Ysak took the shotgun blast on his shield, the kinetic impact of the armor penetrating shells strong enough to push the Duelist back a few meters, its feet digging protesting ruts through the asphalt street. No sooner had he recovered from that attack than the Duelist was struck by dozens of 120mm cannon shells and Ysak got a dose of how Kira had felt at Carpentaria. Through skill and not a little iron determination, he kept the Duelist standing under the onslaught even as he was shaken like a stone in a can. He hit his jets and lifted the Duelist up and over the missiles in a long forward jump, instead of further rocking the Duelist the missiles destroyed two more buildings at the T junction, blasting them into hollow craters of burnt stone.

The Duelist came down about one hundred meters from the Merciless, its feet digging through the loose rubble that covered the street as Ysak continued his charge, beam saber igniting at last into a courscating blade of pink light, he held it high and kept his shield forward, looking for all the world like a charging soldier from thousands of years past magnified a thousand times on a modern scale. The 120mm railgun on his right shoulder spat continuous yellow tracers as he charged, the hypervelocity slugs of magnetically accelerated metal unerringly striking the mountainous Merciless on the chest, limbs and head, though to little discernable effect. Cray frowned in concentration, waiting for his weapons to cycle through their reloads. In the meanwhile he shifted the Merciless back a step and canted the torso downward to compensate for the rapidly closing target. Though the buildings limited his sight and mobility they also limited the mobility of his opponent... and while the Merciless was designed to not only deal out a beating, but to take one as well, Cray doubted that the enemy was nearly so redoubtable. He triggered his shoulder gatlings again, as well as his torso beam cannons, while he kept the hyper impulse cannons in reserve for a point blank shot, assuming Ysak made it that close.

Ysak hit his back thrusters, propelling the Duelist forward like a missile as he raced to reach the Merciless before it could re-orient its arsenal upon him. At such close quarters, if the Merciless could unleash the full fury of its armaments upon him, he knew he would not be able to stand up to it. High explosive shells rained down behind him, blowing craters into the street and sending showers of debris up like spumes of water. Ysak smiled a cold smile... the shells were all landing behind him, if only just... he was movng faster than Cray could target. Only a few more seconds and he'd be close enough to land a telling blow with his beam saber. Perhaps an arm, or maybe a leg he'd take... or maybe he'd just go for broke and try and bisect the giant mobile suit from groin to chest... that sounded better to him. The Duelist seemed to crawl forward as if pushing its way through a crystal clear liquid, the beam saber swooping low and then beginning to power upwards, aimed to take the Merciless right between the legs. Ysak's smug grin lasted less than a second longer, as suddenly, in a lightning fast motion, the Merciless's right arm dropped, leveling the dual 350mm barrels of the hyper impulse cannons it carried at the Duelist from less than thirty meters away. There was no time to spin, to bring the photon cloak into play. There was barely enough time for Ysak's fantastically nimble mind to even recognize the trap for what it was, and to desperately raise his shield to block his sight of the weapons as their muzzles started to glow red-blue with pre-discharge energies.

The hyper impulse cannons fired and the effect was tremendous. Normally designed for medium to long range attacks against hardened targets such as base defenses and capital warships, the effect of both beams striking the Duelist at a range of less than twenty five meters could not be overstated. Ysak had been charging forward at almost two hundred kilometers per hour, a seventy five ton war machine charging for all it was worth. The hyper impulse beams themselves had very little mass, and even allowing for their significant percentage of lightspeed velocity, they really couldn't exert that much physical force on an object... unless that object was like Ysak's shield, which did not simply disintegrate like most materials would. It flexed and warped and bent and charred, but did not give way... the price of this resilient resistance was the entire forward momentum of the Duelist being almost instantly negated and indeed transferred into backwards momentum, the Duelist's legs swinging forward and running out from underneath it as it's torso was slammed backward by the impact of the shield. To an idle, objective observer, it might have appeared humorous, as if the Duelist had stepped on a giant banana peel and slipped, before being propelled backwards like a leaf riding the stream from a fire hose as the hunger power of the hyper impulse beams pushed at the shield, trying in vain to devour it and the rest of the mobile suit.

The Duelist finally touched down about fifty meters away from the Merciless, finally ejected from the rapidly dissipating beam blasts... the Duelist did not make a graceful landing, instead falling onto its back heavily and half skidding-half rolling for more than ten additional meters as the ground friction soaked up the momentum of the gundam. It finally came to rest, half lying on its side, its back to the Merciless. Ysak lay slumped in his cockpit, alive and mostly unhurt, except for a terrific case of whiplash and a blood filled mouth from where he'd bitten his tongue and the inside of his cheek during the impacts. He could not do more than just sit there twitching for a few moments as his body struggled to come to terms with the events of the previous few seconds... he hadn't put that much stress on himself... well, not for a very long time, his mind unable to come up with a comparable trauma at that moment. Finally though, after what seemed an eternity but was probably less than five seconds, he regained voluntary control of his motor functions and he made the time to do a very brief check of the Duelist's systems as he endeavored to roll the machine to its feet. He had just gotten to one knee when a sledgehammer struck him right across the front of his body.

Cray had not been idle while his opponent had been struggling to collect himself. He'd been busy making sure all of his weapon systems were primed and reloaded... and for once, aimed. He'd been privately surprised that the Duelist was intact at all... that was some shield they had made for the enemy, even if it was mostly trashed now. But still... there were multi hundred meter space ships that would have been easily atomized by that attack, and his opponent only had a damaged shield. But Cray reminded himself that even though the enemy had survived that attack, the advantage was all Cray's now. The enemy was disoriented, grounded and right in the middle of his targeting icons... there were few more fatal situations to be in. He demonstrated this to Ysak by waiting for the Duelist to almost get to one knee before blasting him with the anti armor shotgun, the high explosive-armor piercing shells obviously failing to penetrate the phase shift armor, but at such close range the impact would not be too much less than Ysak being kicked by Cray himself, right in the chest. The Duelist went down again, again skidding and rolling, though this time Ysak used the momentum of the roll to bring the Duelist back to it's knees. Cray smiled... his opponent was skilled, he had to grant him that. Most pilots would have given up the ghost already... Ysak was just fighting harder. Cray's fingers started to tighten on the triggers of the beam cannons, gatling cannons and missile launchers. He didn't think Ysak would be able to roll with this one.

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"Ysak! Are you all right? Do you need assistance?" Dearka's concerned voice came over Ysak's come system. Ysak gritted his teeth, unwilling and actually unable to spare a moment to toggle his own comm switch to reply. He liked Dearka as much or more than any person in the universe, save for Katie and his mother, but somehow his friend always managed to pick the very worst times to call him, right when Ysak really didn't want to talk to anyone, didn't even want to think about verbal communication, in fact. Right at this moment, talking was one of the farthest things from Ysak's mind. The Duelist had yet to receive any major damage, though impact damage would soon become a real likelihood if he kept getting hammered like this. For that, Ysak was thankful, as it meant he didn't have to worry about damage control as well... he could still focus on the primary goal... killing Cray. He closed his eyes ever so briefly, momentarily entranced as he watched a shining blue seed drop through the emtpy vastness of some great void before striking an unseen surface and exploding in a shower of blue and silver sparks. When he opened his eyes again, though he could not know it, they had become washed out orbs of azure, windows into a hurricane of rage and determination.

He watched the individual barrels of the four gatling cannon on the Merciless's shoulders smoke as they spun, counted the missiles in their tubes on the mobile suits massive legs and almost felt the heat of the six beam cannons on the torso as they neared firing energy. This next attack aimed at him was a finishing blow, the munitions would shake him and keep him pinned while the beams speared through his armor and roasted him alive. He declined to allow this to happen. The Duelist rose from its knees to a full fledged upwards jump seemingly without making the transition to standing first, bounding over the first flights of missiles as they hammered the ground where he'd formerly knelt. Before gravity could once again claim the Duelist in its weighty grasp, Ysak hit his torso and leg mounted retro thrusters, shooting the Duelist backwards and upwards, vaulting the six green lances of the beam cannons by less than two meters. Rotating in midair because the torso thrusters were more powerful than the ones in the legs, the Duelist completed a complete backwards somersault, pirouretting through the hail of 120mm cannon shells splintering the air all around it, taking barely a few glancing hits in the process, some so minor the shells actually deflected off rather than exploding. Ysak landed in a crouch about one hundred meters from the Merciless, discarding his half wrecked shield and drawing his twin 57mm beam rifle in the same motion.

The Duelist rose to its feet, sword still blazing pink fire in one hand, cold gunmetal rifle held confidently in the other, slightly torn but still proud cloak wafting gently around it in a stray breeze. "No, I'm fine. Everything is under control." Ysak finally replied to Dearka.

"Glad to hear it. Looked like he had you on the ropes there for a while." Dearka endeavored not to sound relieved, but Ysak knew better.

"For a while he did. A very brief while. Maybe a second or two. Maybe. You know me, I can't help but make the other guy look good. Just look at what I did for Kira." Ysak joked.

"Yes... of course. Him kicking your ass every time you met after we descended to Earth was merely a clever part of your strategem to lure him off balance." Dearka rejoined, deadpan. "You could have taken him any time you wanted to, of course."

"Naturally. Still can, you can be sure. Hell, even Cray is now right where I want him. He thinks he's winning... I'm going to be relying on you to help me show him he's dead wrong." Ysak smiled.

"Ready and willing, my friend. Just you bring our prancing giant over this-a-way a few more blocks and we can both give him the sort of surprise we'll never tire of telling stories about." Dearka signed off. Ysak maintained his confident smile only as long as the comm system was on, before returning his face to a mask of grim concentration. Proud words or not, though his situation was much improved over what it had been less than a half minute before, he still couldn't quite shake the fact that even with Dearka and Miriallia on his side, Cray still had them practically outnumbered and certainly outpowered all by himself. Still, he'd never been one to let long odds get him down... they just made life that much more interesting. He juked the Duelist a pace to the side, dodging more incoming fire from Cray, who'd been staring in stupefied surprise at Ysak's sudden burst of agility. Ysak felt his smile return slightly... for once it was Cray who was fighting a foe who's capabilities he did not fully understand. Well, maybe not for once, but Ysak doubted Cray knew that Ysak was capable of the same berserk mode Kira could use.

"Is that the best you can do?" Ysak taunted over the open channel, bringing up his rifle and firing several hyphen like shots of green heat energy at the Merciless, each shot striking clouds of sparks from the machine's multilayered phase shift armor as they penetrated a layer or two before finally petering out, leaving nothing but ugly black scars in the paint to mark their impacts. He wrinkled his nose slightly at seeing his attacks deal so little damage, but he forced himself to recognize the fact that despite his inclinations and wishes, this fight would not be one decided with just a few shots or one or two sword swings. he and Dearka would have to whittle away at Cray, let him exhaust his ammunition and patience, let him start to make rage driven mistakes... then they could capitalize on his errors and bring him down hard. Assuming he didn't do the same things to them first... Ysak could not deny the rage pulsing inside him like a stoked fire... he had it under control for now, but he knew what his temperment was like... it wouldn't exactly take the end of the world to flip him out and leave him charging right into Cray's guns for what would probably be the last time.

"You've yet to even scratch the surface of what I can do." Cray replied, his voice weighty with intent. "You talk big for blue-eyed baby with half a face and only half of your girlfriends still alive. From where I'm standing, it still looks like I'm ahead in our little game. I drew first blood back at JIHAD and you've been playing catch up ever since. What was her name again? Something French?"

"I'll remind you when you're dead." Ysak snarled, firing several more shots at Cray, to similar effect as before. Cray retorted with another blast from the recently recharged hyper impulse cannons, though this time the effect was far lss spectacular, in his opinion anyway. The Duelist skipped to the side again, whirling to let its photon cloak sweep outwards into the paths of the beams. Frustratingly, though the cloth flared so brilliantly white it hurt even his eyes to look at it, it did nothing more than that, the unknown material of the cloak completely absorbing all the massive heat energies of the blasts like a sponge soaking up a tiny trickle of water. Within seconds it had even returned to its normal royal blue color, like nothing at all had happened. Ysak forced himself to laugh loudly over the comm line, before firing three more shots into the Merciless, one scorching a scar much like Ysak's own across the Merciless's oversied head. "Looks like I'm not the only one with half a face now." he commented before gunning his thrusters and jumping the Duelist up and over a line of buildings to land a street over and closer to where Dearka was lying in wait on the highway.

"You think you're funny!? Laugh at THIS!" Cray bellowed, control slipping a few fractions more. He didn't bother to pursue directly, just wrenched the Merciless's torso around a little and made a quick trajectory calculation in his head. He opened up with his shoulder gatlings, firing through the buildings Ysak had just vaulted, the high explosive shells chewing through the middles of the ten to fifteen story buildings in less than a second before bursting out the other side to strike across the next street in a horizontal rain of blossoming fire and shrapnel. Ysak ducked and dropped the Duelist to its knees to avoid the attack, letting the munitions pass over him to strike other buildings across the street, blowing out their facades in showers of glass and stone. He cursed to himself as he saw more than a couple brief spurts of crimson flying through the air... some of the buildings had been at least partly occupied. Like a row of sand castles kicked by a petulant child, the buildings between the Merciless and the Duelist crumpled and collapsed in a huge pall of dust and smoke. Ysak forced himself not to dwell on the fates of the civilians likely all around him as he fought... he couldn't be concerned for their welfare now, couldn't afford the distraction. The best thing he could do for them was to bring the Merciless down as fast as possible, and that meant drawing Cray's ire continuously.

"You're certainly good at blowing up buildings. They teach us to be just a little better than that up in the PLANTS though. We generally don't consider someone even slightly good unless they can hit a moving target, you see." Ysak pointed out... who'd have ever thought that his talent for irritating other people with his unkind observations would have a practical battlefield use?

"No Coordinator can say such things to me and live." Cray promised. "After this is done, I'll tear your heart out with my bare hands and stuff it down my pants, then make your girlfriend lick the blood off me. How's that sound?"

"Like something like a non-entity like you would say." Ysak replied, fighting to keep the revolted hatred out of his voice. He fired blindly through the dust clouds several times. "You've a long way to go before you kill me though and you might want to concentrate on that before you go and make any plans for Katie." As he talked, he sprinted the Duelist along, turning a corner to put more buildings between him and Cray. "Speaking of way's to go, your's is getting longer by the moment, at least as long as you sit there like a speedbump."

"Keep talking, Coordinator. One of us is going to end up eating their words today and I promise you, I have little experience in redigesting my thoughts." Cray answered, taking long, street jarring strides forward, moving through the rubble of the buildings like a man might wade through shallow surf. He burst through the dust and smoke like a juggernaut being birthed from chaos, only to find the street empty before him. "You talk a lot of shit for someone who's always running away!"

"Don't make excuses for your sloppiness and sloth. Why must I be to blame because you're slower than a drugged tortoise?" The Duelist popped back around the corner for a moment, firing several shots that missed the Merciless narrowly before ducking back out of sight again. Cray's return fire took that entire corner of the building off in a landslide of debris, but frustratingly his shots did not strike home against his opponent. Cray jogged the Merciless forward, its gargantuan weight knocking several meter deep craters in the ground as its feet came down like pistons. He rounded the corner, body swingout out wide to compensate for the relatively sudden change in direction, left shoulder and arm digging into the buildings on the other side of the street, dissolving their facings like spun sugar. The Duelist was visible at the end of the street, perhaps two hundred meters away, just rounding yet another corner. Furious, Cray laid waste to everything in sight, his unleashed firepower almost vaporizing two full city blocks. He grappled with himself for control, finally jerking back into a slightly calmer state, soothed by the jets of fire and geysers of smoke his fierce bombardment had replaced the boring vista of buildings with.

"With aim like yours, you wouldn't even make it into the ZAFT artillery corps. Honestly, your instructors must be embarrassed for you... you didn't even come close to me." Ysak seethed inwardly with all the senseless deaths he had witnessed. He wasn't exactly the most sentimental of people... he'd killed his fair share of people both unwilling and unable to resist, though he hadn't known it at the time... but he'd never enjoyed massacre and slaughter for their own sake. When he fought he did not go out with the intention of killing every enemy and destroying every mobile suit... he went out to fight and drive the enemy back, by inflicting casualties on them until they gave up. If they all died before they gave up, well, he wouldn't cry any tears, but he'd prefer not to just annihilate them. Well, most of the time anyway. He had to admit, there were a few times when he just wanted to kill anyone and everything he saw, but they were relatively few and far between and he only acted on them rarely. He was almost to the highway, just one more street to go.

The reaction to his words was even better than he'd hoped. He'd struck some kind of nerve, apparently, because Cray roared like a stuck bear and charged, firing his weapons rapidly but with extreme inaccuracy. "Nobody insults the Doc! How dare you speak ill of the most decent man I know? He's like a father to me! He is a father to me! You just insulted my father, you fucking Coordinator. Now, you're really going to get it!"

"He's no more your father than I am." Ysak retorted. "He was a warped and evil man who experimented on children, modifying their memories and shaping their minds to suit his own ends. I don't know who your father is, but the Doc he isn't."

"Shut up! What would a Coordinator like you know? You're nothing... no one! You're the people that are warped and evil! You deserve everything I'm going to do to you, because you people are inherently guilty! Can't you see that? That's why you all have to die... and thats why I enjoy killing you!" Cray ran the Merciless entirely through a semi intact building, ignoring the clanks and clunks as the concrete and stone tumbled down his shoulders and torso like a man plunging headfirst through a icy snowbank. He'd come through much closer to the Duelist this time, obviously surprising Ysak slightly, as the Coordinator was slower to react, catching a piece of Cray's shotgun blast along his left torso, stumbling backwards a few steps before regaining his balance and pivoting around to duck around yet another corner.

"I'm not hearing anything new and interesting from you. Why don't you just toss in "For the Preservation of our Blue and Pure world" and be done with it? That about sums it up, as far as I'm concerned!" Ysak countered vehemently, reciting the hated Blue Cosmos catchphrase with bitter venom in his tone.

"You continue to mock me even as you flee from me!?" Cray slowed his headlong pace, taking his time, letting his weapons cycle back to full readiness again. "You'll run out of buildings to hide behind eventually... I'm quite prepared to raze this entire island if need be. I'm even looking forward to it, you might say."

"Don't you think that might damage your bosses golden image in the minds of the people? Oh wait, that's right, they hate him already. My bad."

"Cervantes doesn't give a rats ass what the people of Orb think. That should be obvious. If they get uppity again after this... well, bullets are cheap, as they say." Cray snickered. "I can always do my godzilla impression again... believe me, I get quite the kick out of it."

_Just a little further and that won't be the only thing you get a kick from._ Ysak thought darkly, seeing the highway in his rear screens, its eight lane path cutting a wide avenue of cleared space through the heart of the city. He backed the Duelist up slowly, watching the corner with gun aimed. Cray surprised him again though, not bothering to round the corner at all, instead just firing his hyper impulse cannon straight throught the building, sweeping it around like a short lived blade of incandescent light which cut through the buildings like a red hot scapel through butter. Ysak barely dodged in time, the armor on the outer surface of his left arm bubbling and running molten a little bit as it soaked up the heat. He fired back through the decapitated building on reflex, but the tumbling detrius caught most of his shots, and those that did pass through the dust were lost to view with no visible effect whatsoever. Ysak paused and strained his eyes and sensors to try and locate Cray... he couldn't afford to lose track of him for too long, because if the Merciless suddenly popped out at him without him being ready to dodge, it would be all over... Ysak did not think Cray would allow him even a fractional chance at regaining his feet again.

Finally, his keen eyes noted a flash of purple and silver through the thinning cloud of dust. It took him a near fatal second to realize that the Merciless wasn't in hiding or in the middle of some move of subtle trickery at all... Cray was standing right in the middle of the street, in the same position he'd been in when he'd destroyed the building... he'd just been waiting for the dust to clear so he could fire again. Why he'd waited now, when he'd just blazed away before was beyond Ysak, but he did not like this new, slightly more cautious Cray. The more wild and reckless the BCPU became the better the chance they would have to kill him, and the inverse was true as well. He thought this as he threw the Duelist into wild evasive maneuvers, dodging backwards, almost stumbling away from the unleashed arsenal of the Merciless as Cray opened fire. Lances of beam fire cracked the pavement at his feet, boring glowing red tunnels through the ground. Shotgun shells struck his armor and detonated without penetrating, instead transferring enough kinetic force into the Duelist's backwards stumble to turn it into a backwards fall. A howling rain of 120mm cannon shells shrieked by overhead as he fell, reducing half the highway to a ruin of blast craters and rubble in a heartbeat. The Duelist struck the ground on its back and skidded onto the highway, ending up lying almost in the middle of the empty road, about halfway between the buildings on either side.

The Merciless took two steps forward and the missile launchers on its legs belched huge clouds of smoke as they exhaled their payloads. Missiles fell like hail around the prostrate Duelist, their warheads unable to penetrate its armor but in its vulnerable position, they did not have to, as the force of their impacts and detonations bounced Ysak around so much he was unable to regain positive control over his machine. Helplessly stunned, he could do nothing but watch as the Merciless strode confidently onto the highway to stand a few lanes short of where he lay on the ground. All the weapons swung down to cover him... the shoulder gatlings had just started to fire, their first shots blasting him around even more violently in his already abused cockpit, when Dearka finally made his move. He had not spent the time between when he and Ysak had split up idly... he'd been busy siting the Grand Buster into a fine firing position, partially shielded from the Merciless by a curve of highway embankment, the Grand Buster crouched on one knee to prevent a smaller target and to provide a more stable firing platform.

Dearka did not hold back, though inwardly he cringed at the collateral damage he was causing as he opened fire with all weapons. His shoulder beam cannons tore small chunks out of the side of the Merciless, though according to Miriallia's projections, they had not struck through more than armor layers. The missiles from his hip and shoulder launchers bunched up with his own shotgun shells to strike the Merciless high on its right side, sending the giant mobile suit teetering to the left, rocked by almost a dozen tons of high speed explosives impacting it all at once. The thirty meter machine overbalanced at last and tipped over like a mountain falling, speeded along by the 250mm hyper impulse shot that struck its right leg, igniting the missile launchers on that leg, sending them up in a terrific explosion that laid that leg almost bare of armor and collapsed buildings on both sides of the highway with the force of the blast. Unfortunately, though the leg was badly damaged, it was not destroyed and the Merciless quickly proved this fact by clambering back to its feet hastily, almost as if embarrassed by its fall.

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Cray spat pink slimed spittle from his mouth, not even caring that it splattered the inside of his helmet and smeared along some of his screens. He was genuinely angry, and not only at the enemy. He'd allowed his anger and hatred to take control of him again, just like he'd done in JIHAD, when he'd been tricked by Ashino. He'd been played for a fool, and he'd played along blindly, like a lamb on a string. Of course Ysak wouldn't confront him without backup... he'd tried that in Panama and only just barely avoided dying because of it. Hating the Coordinators or not, Cray could not allow himself to underestimate their intelligence... they would know a bad strategy when they experienced one, and they'd come up with a newer and better one for next time. Whereas he hadn't changed at all. He was in the unenviable position of playing catch up to the enemy now and that made him very angry indeed. He was made to be better than this. He tested the right leg gingerly even as he scanned his screens, looking for the Grand Buster, which was the only enemy mobile suit that carried an anti-armor shotgun like his own. The leg servos were scorched and laid bare, but the limb still worked well enough and supported its share of the weight and so Cray knew he'd been very lucky. He could have very easily lost the limb and then he'd have been almost entirely at their mercy as they flanked himand blasted him to pieces.

Sure enough, the Grand Buster crouched half hidden behind a curve in the highway about five hundred meters away, its hand held weapons lying on the ground beside it even as it dragged the massive artillery cannon on its back into firing position. The Duelist, which had been at his feet, helpless again, just moments before, landed from its quick flight right next to the Grand Buster and started blasting away at Cray with its beam rifle again. Cray had to smile and shake his head... Ysak certainly was tenacious... beat him black and blue and he'd still keep coming back for more. Cray liked that attitude in a target... it made it a lot more fun for him when they didn't run away. Amber warning lights flashed on some of his panels, indicating minor damage to several non vital systems from the repeated beam impacts, but Cray ignored them for the moment... he knew the Merciless and a few beam blasts weren't going to breach its armor just yet. The Grand Buster was just slamming home the car sized artillery shell when Cray opened fire again, hosing down both enemy mobile suits with all his might. It was tough to get a good bead on the Grand Buster, half hidden in cover as it was, but Cray knew that at least some of his attacks had to be hitting it through the huge smoke and dust cloud that sprang up between him and his targets. He did not fool himself into thinking that the attack had been enough to take down either opponent... they wouldn't be that easy.

His hand slammed down on the lever that activated the Citadel array built into the torso and limbs of the Merciless just scant seconds before the Earthshaker artillery cannon spoke in its monstrous voice, cracking concrete in a ten meter radius around the Grand Buster and shattering windows for hundreds of meters around as the cannon hurled the multiple ton shell at the Merciless, faintly surrounded by a storm of sparking blueish light. The shell struck the lightwave barrier and detonated, the force of the explosion slightly indenting the nigh indestructible energy barrier before being redirected around the unbreakable object, rivers of fire and concussion flowing outwards to strike skyscrapers and other buildings bordering the highway. When the blast and smoke cleared, there was a three meter deep and thirty meter wide crater around the Merciless, with cracked and torn up pavement surrounding the crater for almost a hundred meters in all directions. Cray peered out through his lightwave barrier, his cameras struggling to maintain resolution through the energy interference. He thought he could see the Grand Buster, either reloading or swapping it's weapons out, but he could not see the Duelist. His hand hovered over the off switch for the Citadel array... he knew Ysak was likely waiting above him or to the side somewhere, waiting to dart inwards with his beam sword to cut away at Cray during the vulnerable second or two it took for the Citadel array to disengage and realign to engage again.

Cray's internal debate about what to do was solved in a hiss of static and an unfamiliar voice. "Calling unknown Earth Forces mobile suit. This is Colonel Banner of the Third Corp, First division, 17th Armored Regiment. I've got a mixed battalion of MBT's and SPAU's moving up to support you as we speak. I don't know who you are, but I'll be damned if I let two rebel mobile suits tear up the city while it's under our protection."

Cray looked at his secondary status screens in bemusement... just as Banner had said, there were multiple new contacts on his sensors, indicating more than twenty Main Battle Tanks and about fifteen Self Propelled Artillery Units... old mainstays of the Earth Alliance ground forces before the development of the Strike Daggers... rumbling up the highway behind him, firing their weapons at the Grand Buster and at an unseen target off to his left. He disengaged the Citadel system with a feral grin on his face, waiting impatiently as the systems realigned and motor control was returned to his province by the Merciless's computers. True to his expectations, Ysak was engaged with the tanks off to his left while the Grand Buster was weathering the artillery fire from the SPAU's in its old position, caught swapping out weapons by the sudden armor advance. A dozen APC's clattered into view from side streets running parallel to the highway, their boxy forms juddering as they negotiated the rubble strewn streets to come to a halt in a loose formation just a few meters in front of the Merciless. More APC's along with several of the armored cars mounted with laser guided rocket pods that formed the fast strike units of the EA ground forces sped along other surface streets, heading for the Grand Buster.

"This is Lt. General Anders, Third Corp, First division. I've got a mechanized infantry regiment here, plus another two reinforced battalions of heavy armor inbound and six regiments of infantry mustering outside the city. Colonel Banner, you are under my command. Mobile suit pilot, what is your name and unit?" a tough, blunt voice announced over the comm. Cray glanced down and noticed the APC with a single gold star painted on the top... a command model, rarely seen so close to the front lines. Squads of infantry toting man portable missile launchers and RPG launchers were deploying from inside the APC's, and soon a steady stream of anti-vehicular fire came from their positions to further bombard the Grand Buster. Cray took a long step backwards to put both the Duelist and the Grand Buster within his fields of fire. Ysak was dominating the tanks that were coming after him, destroying two or three at a time as their cannon shots bounced harmlessly off his Phase Shift armor. The Grand Buster was momentarily out of the fight as it fought to recover its balance and continue swapping out its weapons while being continuously pounded by long range artillery fire and anti-tank missiles. Ysak suddenly abandoned the tank duel, the Duelist jetting up and forward in a reckless forward attack that Cray easily dodged, the Merciless crashing backwards a few steps to avoid the swing of the beam sword.

Cray smirked and then frowned. Ysak had landed the Duelist right in the middle of the APC's, so that they were between him and the Merciless. Infantry ran in panic or fired fruitless shots from their personal weapons at the mobile suit that had suddenly dropped from the sky into their midst. Heavier weapons mounted on top of the APC's started winking and flashing, but even their shells were less than spitwads to a mobile suit, especially one with Phase Shift armor. The tanks remaining from the brief and extremely one sided tank duel rushed forward, skidding down the steep concrete embankments seperating the highway from the surface streets of the city, firing their cannons high to avoid endangering their men and commanding officer, who Cray could see leaning out of the front cupola of his APC, waving his arm angrily at the mobile suit standing almost on top of his position, his other hand held to his face, probably with a comm phone in it. Cray shrugged... if Ysak thought placing EA soldiers between him and Cray made any difference at all... then he was more foolish than Cray had thought.

"I repeat, mobile suit pilot, what is your name and uni..." the transmission cut off in a splurt of static as Cray fired at the Duelist with his shoulder gatlings and torso beam cannons, driving Ysak back again and utterly annihilating the EA armored and infantry units that had been on the highway. The mobile artillery behind Cray stopped firing in surprise and horror, suddenly unsure if the giant mobile suit was on their side at all, given the lack of a response to hails and the cold blooded slaying of several of their commanding officers for no apparent reason. Cray decided that they had served their purpose well enough and indulged himself a little bit... the back mounted CIWS guns quickly bracketed them in storms of shells that tore through the lightly armored artillery units to strike their ammo lockers, sending them up in bright glossy fireballs like a string of firecrackers. "Thanks for the help." Cray smiled and said, now that no one could hear him. "You all get to die quick as a reward." Cray moved the Merciless forward, slowly at first but quickly building up into a headlong charge... the last thing his foes would expect him to do, given the relative lack of extreme close range attacks of the Merciless. "You're not the only ones who can come up with new plans... I learned this little maneuver from a colleague of mine, someone you guys already killed."

The Grand Buster came into view ahead as the Merciless bore down on it like an avalanche, still crouched low to the ground, its weapons just recently returned to its hands. Cray saw Ysak jet into his back arc, but by then it was too late, the Merciless was already shifting its center of gravity, Cray bringing his massive machine down into a slide tackle, just like Ashino had used against Athrun back in Panama. He made sure to keep his right leg lifted as he was unsure of how it would handle the stress in its current state, but the left leg held up just fine, though it was rapidly stripped of paint as it tore a smoking trench through the ground before the foot slammed directly into the center mass of the Grand Buster, just as it opened fire at him once again with its weapons. The missiles and beam blasts flew high, almost striking the Duelist as it charged in from the back. The hyper impulse cannon shot missed just wide, its terrible heat bubbling the armor along the Merciless's left leg and side into a half molten scar. The anti-armor shotgun struck dead on, but the Merciless was just too massive to be much affected by it, especially with all its forward momentum and low center of gravity at the time. Cray snapped backwards in his cockpit couch, but where a normal man or even Coordinator would have been stunned if not injured by the impact, his reinforced physiology shrugged off the stresses like he was on a mere roller coaster.

The forward momentum of the Merciless was quickly eaten up by the friction between its sliding phase shift armored form and the street and his slide tackle came to a halt after only a few dozen meters. Cray was quick to regain his feet, but he knew he wasn't going to be fast enough to turn and face Ysak. Instead of trying to turn fully around, he actually jumped the Merciless straight backwards, his grin only increasing as he felt and heard the structure of the Merciless groan in protest at all the sudden eratic movements... he hadn't heard it moan like that for a long time, not since the last time he'd really gone all out against Kira at Carpentaria. It was audible and tactile proof that he was really exercising at the peak of his skills. There was a loud and painful explosion on his back as the Duelist's beam sword cut the semi-strategic multipurpose missile launchers on the Merciless's back in half, but its sword swing was truncated by the sudden proximity of the Merciless and so Cray only lost his nukes, not his life as the Merciless slammed back on into the Duelist, knocking the smaller mobile suit flying. The Merciless fell to the ground but Cray still managed to snap off a shot from his own shotgun in mid fall, tagging the just barely recovered Grand Buster full in the face with 2400 pounds of high explosive shells, knocking the green and tan mobile suit flat on its back even as he landed on his ass and bounced.

He was quicker to his feet than either enemy, but he declined to fight them in his current position, where he would be flanked by one of them no matter who he engaged, a disadvantageous situation he was not eager to prolong. Instead of firing at them as they recovered he took the Merciless to the air, leaping up and over the Grand Buster to land a few hundred meters further down the highway. He'd spent at most ten seconds in the air, but he'd spent the time wisely and fruitfully, taking in the cityscape around him in a whole different manner than he had on his flight in from his mustering point. It was no longer a collection of concrete targets... now it was a warzone. His warzone. Cray smiled as he highlighted several features on his map of the immediate area. The first, and closest, was outlined in blue... a group of three seventy plus story skyscrapers, the offices of large business corporations judging by the company logo's emblazoned high on their sides. The buildings formed a triangle, where three major surface streets came together in a "Y" formation. His second jump brought the Merciless within a hundred meters of the center of the Y, deep within the shadows of the buildings. The second location of note glowed red on his map... it was a few miles off still, but it had been easily visible from the air... the giant red cross on the side had been quite eye catching. He watched the Duelist and the Grand Buster slowly get to their feet, harassed by the remnants of the mechanized infantry and armored forces that had escaped his fire. It was time for a "come hither", a special delivery, from Cray to them... he smiled as he saw the civilians flooding the lower levels of the building, rushing to get down to the parking garages where their vehicles were kept so they could flee. He did not hinder their progress, though he did take note of where the street entrances to the parking garages were.

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"Damn it! Why is this guy always such a bastard to fight!?" Dearka complained as he struggled to bring the Grand Buster back to its feet. One hand was on the controls while the other typed madly at a keyboard as he re-wrote the OS slightly to take into account the loss of some components that had been knocked loose by either the slide tackle or the shotgun blast. He swore more violently but far more quietly to himself as he relived that attack in his mind. _Who would have expected a mobile suit armed with exculsively ranged weapons to charge and slide tackle me? Who would slide tackle in a mobile suit anyway? That's something you do on the soccer or rugby field... not in a thirty meter walking armory. But despite that, damn it, he really pulled it off. Not sure I could do the same._ Smaller explosions shook the Grand Buster, sounding almost tinny and festive compared to the ear shattering blasts of the Merciless's weapons or the rending gong of impact between two gargantuan mechanical forms. "What's that?" he asked, momentarily unable to find the source of the explosions.

"Rockets and small caliber cannon fire from the EA mechanized infantry vehicles to our left. Survivors of the unit that engaged us earlier... before Cray blew them all to hell and gone." Miriallia replied, taking control of the shoulder beam turrets. She hesistated slightly before firing them though. _Is it really right for me to kill these men? They're just following orders... they think we're the enemy. They can't hurt us..._ Her internal qualms were rendered moot a few seconds later as Dearka turned the Grand Buster's head and used the mounted CIWS guns to sweep the EA troops away in a fury of explosions. "Why did you...!?" Miriallia started to exclaim.

"They're the enemy, Mir. They may not be Cray, but they chose to shoot at us rather than run away. When the enemy chooses to attack you rather than run away, that's when the gloves come off." Deaka replied cooly.

"But they couldn't even hurt us!" Miriallia protested.

"Luckily, yes. But what if we'd suffered an armor breach... or been forced to eject? They'd not have hesitated to kill us... it's their job to try after all. Just like it's my job to bring us both through this alive... and your job too. And our jobs conflict with theirs... who's has a higher priority? It's not a hard answer, I don't think."

"No, its not a hard answer. We come first." Mir sighed. "I wonder how long we can keep saying that though? If we come first thinking continues to prevail, peace is going to be damned hard to attain." Dearka didn't have an answer for that.

"That's a problem I'm more than glad to leave in the hands of Lacus, Kira, Athrun and Cagalli. I'm not much for the philosophical side of things I'm afraid. I fight for what I believe in because that's what I think is right and that's what I want to do... and because if I don't fight I stand to lose more than I can possibly accept." Dearka said to no one in particular. The Grand Buster lurched to its feet and he scanned around the roadway... Cray was not in close proximity, the Merciless having jumped overhead while they were grounded before jumping again and disappearing from view down one of the side streets that was still lined with standing buildings. "So how's he doing, love?"

"Ysak? He's taken a lot more shock and impact damage than us, but no vital damage yet. He's about seventy meters to our right..." Mir began.

"No, Cray. I'm not so worried about Ysak... short of loss of limbs or major debilitating injury, Ysak is usually fine. Only thing I've ever seen slow Ysak down is some sort of serious injury and he's not even close to that." Dearka said cheerfully. "Isn't that right, Ysak?"

"Bruised, bloody, beaten... and very pissed off. That's me in a nutshell." Ysak growled over the radio. The sound of knuckles cracking came over the line as well. "I think that's enough of a warmup though. It's time to get down to business for real."

Miriallia smiled at his bravado, though she knew it was mostly false. Neither pilot was going to admit it, she knew, but they were both quite worried. They'd managed to inflict some damage on Cray to be sure, most notably on the right leg, but so far the fight had gone almost entirely in Cray's favor, with them staggering around making attacks as best they could and him just laughing it off and knocking them flying all over the place with his own attacks. They hadn't taken any serious damage yet, but Miriallia suspected that was more a fluke of good fortune than Dearka's or Ysak's skill or inability on Cray's part. "Oh, him. Yeah. Well, you know that his right leg is weak... another good hit there and he'll lose it. He's taken armor damage over most of his torso, but he's still got plenty of protection left there... that triple layer armor of his is more resistant to beam blasts than I thought it would be. Ysak destroyed his back mounted nuclear missiles, thank god, but you didn't get much more than the launchers, his thrusters and such are still operating fine. He lost the missile launchers on the right leg, but the ones on his left leg should have about forty five percent ammo remaining. He has another twelve shots for the shotgun and his shoulder cannons are down to sixty five percent load. Of course his hyper impulse cannon and beam cannons will function as long as he has sufficient power. His CIWS is down to seventy nine percent ammo, if it matters."

"And how are we set up?" Dearka asked, though he could have looked it up in a matter of moments, he knew he had to give Miriallia something to do, something to concentrate on, or combat shock would start to set in. She was still unused to brutal combat like this.

"We still have eighteen shots for the shotgun, our missiles have fifty percent load remaining and our CIWS is at eighty percent. We've sustained minor surface damage and some impact damage, though it's all been either re-routed or temporarily patched up. We're down one Earthshaker shell, leaving us with five more." Miriallia paused to call up more information on another screen. "Ysak's damage is mostly superficial, though he's had to re-write some of his own OS to compensate for damage as well. His railgun is at sixty four percent load and his missiles at thirty five percent, his CIWS is still at ninety percent. His shield is wrecked though and won't be usable again with a long time in the shop."

"Concise and to the point." Ysak commented dryly. "In short, we're still more than able to take this bastard down. We'll just keep playing it slow... let him waste his ammo. I'll see what I can do about taking out his leg... Dearka, I want you to focus on getting rid of his hyper impulse cannons... without those he'll be almost helpless once he runs out of bullets. And they're just about the only weapon he has that can kill us with a single shot, so it's too dangerous to leave in his hands for long."

"I'll get 'er done." Dearka replied. "Try not to turn into a clay pigeon again though... I don't know how many more times I can pull your ass out of the fire."

"We've been over this. I had him exactly where I wanted him... we almost got him there... if more of your shots had hit his leg we'd already be done with this."

"Don't blame this on me... he was about to turn you into blast-waste... I couldn't exactly take the time to pick the rivets I wanted to hit."

"Stop bickering! And TAKE COVER, DAMN IT!" Miriallia overrode the comm channel as a flight of missiles screamed down from the sky, knocking fire rimmed divots into the street and showering both mobile suits with shrapnel and flame. "Source of missiles is approximately seven hundred meters away, right near the three big skyscrapers, the ones with the Orb National Grid, Hameya Construction Co., and Morganrote Admin Division logos on the sides. We have incoming metallic objects... they're not missiles. Ballistic in trajectory... too large for any guns the Merciless has. What the hell... oh god." Miriallia's voice went very small and quiet as the image on her sensor screen came into focus. It was a car, a mid sized sedan, colored cream white, with its sides slightly crushed in where the Merciless had grabbed it and then thrown it. This car was empty... the red SUV behind it was not, being populated by at least three people. Miriallia could only watch in horror, Dearka cursing up a storm, as the cars tumbled through the air before hitting the ground like awkward toys thrown by a petulant child, folding into ragged heaps of splintering metal and spilling fuel. She couldn't keep her eyes off the SUV as it flew within meters of the Grand Buster, locking eyes through her cameras with the woman at the wheel of the SUV, who was wearing a fashionable blue business suit and had golden hair ornaments that were plainly visible for the half second or so before her car hit the ground and its interior filled with pulped flesh and jagged debris.

"What's he think he's doing?" Ysak grated, his voice harsh with repressed emotion. "He must be trying to provoke us."

"It's working!" Dearka snapped. Even as they spoke a dark green sports car came flipping down through the air, exploding in a rich fireball as its fuel cells ruptured upon landing. They watched as the Merciless dipped down out of sight for a moment before coming up with colored objects gripped lightly in its hands before its arms windmilled and more cars were airborne, thrown in a long arc to eithe rsmash into buildings long or short of the highway or to land on the highway itself. "That fucker... massacring the crowd at the peace march... terrorizing the city... killing his own allies... using people as weapons... is there no low to which he won't stoop?"

"I don't know." Miriallia said. Or that's what she tried to say anyway, before a luxury sedan crowded to overfilling with at least eight people inside came barreling into view on a much shallower trajectory, thrown more like a line drive than a hail mary. Before she could finish her sentence, or tell Dearka to get out of the way, the vehicle smacked dead on into the chest of the Grand Buster, crushing itself flat, disintegrating into pieces as it did so. There wasn't time to see much... but there was time enough for Miriallia to see the expressions of terror and desperation on the faces of the front seat occupants of the car, two middle aged businessmen who had no idea when waking up that morning thair their lives were going to end in such a gruesome manner. There was time, a splinter of a second, to watch the people tossed around the interior of the car, blood coloring the glass crimson as the front end of the car struck the Grand Buster before it crumpled into a totally unrecognizable ball and exploded, showering the surrounding area with atomized bits of humanity and car interior. Instead of saying something, Miriallia just screamed. Screamed and then began dry heaving, gagging at the terrible thing she'd just seen and even felt and head, as the Grand Buster had rung and shifted just slightly when the car had hit it. Eight people had just died... ended their lives in a rush of fear and agony, not ten feet from where she sat. She only escaped their fate by being behind a several inch thick layer of armor.

"Mir! Are you okay?" Dearka cried. _Okay... stupid question. She's not okay... anyone who's okay after being hit with a car full of innocent people... watching them die, feeling them die just feet from you... no, you wouldn't be fine._ His own gorge rose a little bit and he could taste bile in the back of his throat when he thought about it. "Go, Ysak. He obviously wants us to close with him, so lets give him what he wants, just one more time. I'll be right behind you, soon as I make sure Mir is okay."

"Don't let her hold you up too much... I can't beat him without you." Ysak replied, his voice faintly critical.

"And I can't fly this damn thing without her!" Dearka retorted defensively. That wasn't strictly true, but he couldn't very well let Ysak just insult Mir and himself like that. "I won't be long... seconds at most... sooner if you'll let me get down to it instead of giving me stupid warnings!" Dearka snorted. "What you do in my place, if it was Katie?"

"Katie would understand." Ysak replied instantly, the Duelist rising into the sky on a pillar of blue thruster flame, dodging another two line drive cars as it did so.

"Just shut up! I'll be right there!" Dearka slammed off the comm system. "Mir... just breathe. Slow and easy. Slow and easy. Get through this... don't make me a liar, please... 'cause I don't think Ysak will be around to apologize to if I am."

Ysak shook his head as he darted the Duelist towards the Merciless, ducking under or hopping over the cars that were being thrown at him. His loathing for Cray grew with every passenger heavy car that flew past him or hit near him, but he didn't let the horror of the attack affect him adversely. He let his anger grow, let it swell, let it fuel his abilities... but he didn't let it get to the point where it started to take control over him. His breathing was deep and steady, his eyes still washed out in the throes of the SEED mode. Dearka was at least true to his word... the Grand Buster started to take tenative steps after the Duelist within a few seconds after they broke comms, but Ysak knew it would take his friend longer to fully calm Miriallia... a nice girl, but not suited for the rigors of mobile suit combat in Ysak's opinion. At least Cagalli had the right spirit for it... Miriallia was too nice by half for the field of battle, he felt. Dearka would not be fully in the fight for at least fifteen or twenty seconds, by Ysak's rough guestimation. Fortunately, Cray seemed prepared to indulge in his provocative attack for the next little while, rather than continue to fight seriously. Ysak shook his head... he just couldn't get a read on his opponent... Cray was wild and angry one second, focused and calculating the next, then barbaric and bloodthirsty right aftwards, with very little transition or warning phase in between them.

A car grazed the Duelist's right shoulder in a rain of fat yellow sparks, the sides of the vehicle being ripped off by the slight contact, spilling the people inside out like seeds being squeezed from a fruit as the car continued to hurtle through the sky. Ysak turned his eyes away from their plight and felt his resolve harden anew as he closed to within a hundred meters of the Merciless, which was crouched next to the street level entrance/exits of two of the three skyscrapers. Cars of all sorts were flooding out of the garages, or trying to anyway, as the mess of wrecked cars at the exit was preventing much outward motion, except for the unlucky cars Cray picked up and threw out of the morass, the suddenly opened space letting more cars pile forward, pushed by the panicking people behind them who had no idea of the fate being meted out to those too close to the exit. Ysak opened fired with his rifle and shoulder weapons, bouncing railgun shots off the Merciless as it came back to a standing position, SUV in either hand. One railgun shot would have struck the Merciless in the face, but Cray brought up a hand and the SUV took the shot instead, right in the undercarriage. Where Ysak's 120mm railgun was almost ineffective against the Merciless, against the unarmored bottom of a civilian car... that was another matter. The railgun round passed through the vehicle with hardly any resistance at all, shredding whatever was inside before blasting a hole in one of the lower floors of the building. Cray crushed the other SUV instead of throwing it, dropping the ruined mess to free up his hands as Ysak rapidly closed the distance.

Ysak's beam rifle scored a glancing hit to Cray's right thigh, but though the internal systems glowed red momentarily, the leg remained functioning for the moment. Then there was no more space for beam fire, as Ysak was within arms reach of the mighty enemy, beam sword slicing around to carve a deep slice through the left leg armor. Ysak smiled at the solid hit, but the good feeling was quite short lived. His charge had been exactly what Cray had wanted... he'd just thrown himself into the lion's den, or the hunter's snare. The Merciless's enormous paws grabbed the Duelist's left arm and waist, and the machine turned, pivoting on a left leg that buckled and squealed under the pressure but remained whole nonetheless. Combining the momentum of the charge with the momentum of the spin, Cray threw the Duelist headlong, facefirst into the lower levels of the building across the street. The Gundam hit the glass and concrete wall and smashed through like it was made of gingerbread, the machine penetrating almost five meters into the building before coming to a halt. Ysak spun, sending even more of the building cascading down around him as the movement tore the interior to pieces around his head and shoulders. His anger was a white hot flame that burned cold in his chest. He'd been played... played for a fool. He didn't realize how much of a fool until about a second later.

Cray had not been idle... continuing to push the Merciless to its limits, after completing his throw, he'd gunned the retro-jets on the Merciless's front, forcing the big machine directly backwards, keeping up the burn as his back collided with the building behind him, keeping it up as he forced the Merciless to fly backwards through the building, his wide Phase Shift armored back forcing an unstoppable path through the relatively flimsy concrete, steel and glass the building was made of. Once on the other side, Cray wasted no time in drawing his hand held weapons from their armored holsters on his back, planting his damaged legs widely to provide the best possible support on their suspect frames. By the time Ysak had turned the Duelist around as was just stepping forward, out of the crater he'd made in the side of the building, Cray was ready to trip the jaws of the trap shut. The truth of his predicament was probably just beginning to dawn in Ysak's mind when Cray opened fire with all his weapons, holding down the triggers. His target was not the Duelist. In fact, not a single beam or shell came within five meters of the Duelist at all... they were all aimed higher.

Cray had badly damaged the support structure of the Hameya Construction Co. building when he'd rammed the Merciless through it's lower levels. The Duelist had also done a number on the lower floors of the Orb National Grid building, though not nearly to the extent of the devastation wrought by Cray. Instead of further wasting his ammunition firing at the Duelist, which between its Phase Shift armor and energy absorbing cloak had proven frustratingly hard to hurt so far, Cray instead finished the jobs the mobile suits had started on the buildings. Buildings which were all too easily affected by the massed firepower of the Merciless. 120mm cannon shells blew through the seventh through ninth floors of the Hameya building, some passing entirely through the building before exploding against the Orb National Grdid building, just above Ysak's head. The greater majority of the shells found some target of sufficient mass to trip their detonation circuits though, the total effect of the thousand or so shells being the total disintegration of those floors of the Hameya building. The missiles, torso beam cannons and anti-armor shotgun did likewise, along with the stray gatling cannon shells, to the Orb National Grid building, cutting it off at the knee's so to speak. The dual 350mm hyper impulse cannons sliced through the Morganrote building by themselves, vaporizing the bottom six floors of the building in a giant flash of light and acrid smoke.

Cray hit his retro-jets again, pushing the Merciless backwards in a series of ungainly hops, unwilling to put too much more stress on his legs, either of which he was sure would give out with prolonged use. Because of the way he'd angled his shots, all three buildings, berefit of a great deal of their supporting infastructure were now collapsing both downwards and inwards, the debris and broken fragments of all three buildings meeting and falling together down towards the middle of the "Y" intersection. Some debris did fall outwards, break on the Merciless on the streets around it in clouds of dust and metal splinters, but far more fell either straight down or down at an inward angle... down right on top of the Duelist, standing in the "Y" intersection. Cray almost immediately lost sight of Ysak, but he didn't see him fly out of the area either. He half smiled... he was victorious, but it wasn't quite the way he'd wanted it... he'd hoped to get the Grand Buster with this tactic, not Ysak. There was no way the fiesty Coordinator could survive having three entire buildings dropped on him... even the Merciless probably wouldn't survive that.

"Oh shit! YSAK!" Dearka cried. Miriallia had mostly recovered, through she was still trembling a little. He had no doubt he'd be helping her through a lot of nightmares for the next few weeks, assuming they lived through this. They'd been just about to move in to support Ysak... Dearka's heart had lept into his mouth when he saw Ysak slice the left leg of the Merciless with his sword... the more they crippled the mobility of their foe, the easier the fight would be. But the Merciless did not fall... indeed, it reacted with a speed like that of a striking mongoose, grabbing and tossing the Duelist so fluidly it looked like something more suited for a martial arts movie, not mobile suit combat. The Merciless then seemed to dive backwards, heedless of the building towering over it, crashing through the building like it was hardly there. It was at this point in time that Dearka got a really bad premonition, but before he was able to voice it to warn Ysak, it was too late.

Miriallia watched with horror matching that felt by her lover as the three enormous buildings came tumbling down, huge clouds of dust and smoke billowing out from their bases as they collapsed, spilling thousands of tons of rubble through the air. She was still kind of out of it from recovering from seeing those people in the car die, but this new catastrophe snapped her awake quick effectively. "Get out of there, Ysak!" she shouted, hoping her comm line was on... hoping her wish could somehow make a difference. For a moment it looked like it had... the blue, white and grey form of the Duelist could bee seen blurrily through the smoke and dust and falling debris, riding a stream of blazing blue thrust as Ysak tried to bull the machine through the suddenly material clogged air, but then a massive section of building, a block of five floors bearing the Morganrote company symbol on the side came down like a giant flyswatter and smashed the Duelist from the sky, causing it to disappear from view under who knows how many tons of rubble. The shockwave from all three buildings collapsing at once set off a chain reaction, with other, lesser buildings nearby swaying back and forth before their own foundations cracked or shattered and they came tumbling down as well, in an expanding ring of destruction that would eventually claim every building over ten stories high in a three block radius.

Dearka and Miriallia were not around for that however. Dearka tried to move closer, to dig for his friend, but he knew it was pointless... even if Ysak had survived, which even he found to be a dubious proposition... he was almost certainly buried under the wreckage of three seventy plus story buildings... it would take rescue crews days if not weeks to dig that deep, assuming rescue crews were even despatched right that instant, which was far from likely. He was unable to even move closer, the Grand Buster forced back by falling wreckage and the pounding shockwaves of the buildings falling to the ground. "Ysak..." Dearka said quietly, mournfully, his voice pained.

"He's... he can't be. Not Ysak. Not like this..." Mir began, equally shocked. It didn't seem possible for someone she knew... not precisely a friend, but a friend of the person she was most intimate with... to be gone so suddenly. One moment he'd been there, the next he was gone, totally removed from view by the collapsing buildings. "He can't have died! He can't be gone!" _In a way, it's like Tolle dying all over again... though this time it's for Dearka. Oh god... what that did to me... what this must be doing to him... oh god._

"That was supposed to be you." Cray's voice oozed over the comm line like pond scum slithering down a pipe. "That's why I threw the cars at you, not him. He was to have a more special fate than being entombed." Cray paused a moment as if considering. "Oh well... the best laid plans of mice and men, as they say. I suppose in some way's this works out better. He'll be trapped in there, alone, assuming he's still alive, which isn't likely. You two would have each other. Now I can have some fun with two people, rather than just one. Good all around, isn't it?" Cray let out a short burst of explosive laughter.

"Mir... Mir... Mir..." Dearka said slowly and quietly, almost unaware that he was even talking.

"I'm here, Dearka. I'm right here." she replied, her voice equally quiet and serious. She twisted around in her seat to look at him and started slightly. She'd seen him like this once before... in the Doc's lab, in the facility known as JIHAD. His breathing was deep and steady, his face set and calm and grim. His eyes... those lovely violet orbs she never tired of looking into... were washed out and flat, almost lifeless. He seemed to radiate power and confidence all of a sudden. She felt herself come to his attention as he roused himself from some inner introspection she didn't think she'd ever be able to understand. His hands twitched and spasmed slightly on the controls, she could feel the Grand Buster rocking forward and back slightly as his feet likewise tap danced on the thruster pedals.

"Please... I need you to... to..." words seemed to fail him suddenly.

"To what? What can I do to help, Dearka?" Miriallia prompted. His face turned fully to face her and a piece of the old Dearka resurfaced and smiled at her.

"I need you to be here with me... be right here with me... to fight alongside me. Please? For Ysak."

"Always... I'll always be here for you, Dearka. I'll fight alongside you. For Ysak. And for you. And for me."

"If you two are quite done, I'm getting tired of waiting! What are you doing in there anyway?" Cray's voice broke the mood and the silence that had followed her promise. "Believe me, you'll want to save your energy... you're both going to need it."

"Where is he?" Dearka asked breathily. Mir consulted her LRR and other sensors.

"He's about three hundred meters to the west of our current position. His signal is really weird though... I'm reading a lot more mass at his location than even the Merciless could possibly have... thousands and thousands of tons. His radar signature is also broken up really weirdly... his outline keeps changing, flickering almost. Hold on, let me tune the vari-camera... oh fuck." Miriallia swore, surprising herself at her word choice... normally she intensely disliked the more foul curses. But this was a situation that fully qualified the use of them.

"What...?" Dearka asked, also shocked at her curse, which was quite unlike her. The vari-camera image came up on his screen. "Motherfucker!" he exclaimed.

"Come and get it! I'm right here... my legs don't work so well... come on, I'm nearly helpless... a little lamb, just waiting for the slaughterman... or wait, I think I may have gotten our roles reversed. Come on, why are you hesitating?" Cray taunted. "I'm not even moving... I'm a sitting duck here." he called, making his voice more singsong like, almost childish. "We've been playing tag... and you're it. Now you have to come tag me." The Merciless stood in plain view. Well, the top quarter of it was in plain view anyway... the bottom three quarters was hidden by the cream colored painted stone and polarized glass windows of the Orb Red Cross Hospital building, in which courtyard the Merciless was standing. The Hospital building formed a hollow square eight stories tall and several hundred feet on a side, with an attached residence/long term care building twenty stories tall on the west side of the square. The courtyard was a garden that filled the interior of the square, where recovering patients and off duty staff could relax for lunch or go for a morning jog. Well, until the Merciless took up residence anyway... the tower of the residence building loomed behind its head while it's arms were out of sight below the roof of the east side of the square, with only its head and shoulder gatlings really visible. The Merciless may have been a sitting duck... but it was a duck sitting in the middle of a maternity ward.

"Dearka... we can't shoot at him! He's in the middle of a hospital! That place is probably packed full of people!" Miriallia cried.

"I know... the bastard knows that too. That's why he chose to move there... because he knows we can't shoot at him while he's got the hospital as a hostage. Hell, even if I was confident enough to shoot at him, and sure that I would only hit him, which I'm not, the explosion of the Merciless or its collapse would still cause massive destruction. I can't do it! Not even for Ysak! I can't put all those people's lives in jeopardy!" Dearka shouted, shaking his head in frustrated rage. "How dare he hide behind a hospital! COWARD!"

"Thou speaketh my name?" Cray rasped smugly. "They're just people... you don't even know them. They haven't even seen you yet, probably... they'll never know. Most of them will never even know what hit them... and those who do will be dead anyway. You won't have to feel guilty... no one will confront you... no one will blame you... everyone who knows about it will be dead. Hell, so will both of you, at that... but that's a whole different story. So come out and play... come out and play or else."

"Or else what?" Dearka snarled.

"What else do you think? You saw what I did to Ysak, didn't you? This hospital is convenient... it makes for a nice set piece on the great stage of this battlefield. But if you won't play, then it's useless to me... you know what I do to useless things, don't you." Cray did not make it a question.

"We won't surrender." Miriallia said firmly. Cray laughed, geniunely amused.

"Surrender? Why would I want that? You've already shown me that you two can't keep a promise... I learned from Panama, you see. Unlike at least one or three other people I know." Cray paused. "No... I just want you to play... play my game. It's not even all that stacked against you. It's called the game of survival. First one to die loses."

"But you're standing in a hospital full of people... the very definition of an off limits target." Dearka pointed out. Cray laughed again, contemptuously.

"You'll want to throw out those old rules of warfare if you want to have any chance of winning the game. Survival is about survival... attaching rules is utterly pointless. Now... come closer, my friends. It's time to start the game..." the barrels of the Merciless's shoulder gatling cannons began to spin, slowly at first but then faster and faster. Dearka swallowed and looked at Miriallia, who nodded slowly. Cautiously, with deliberate care, the Grand Buster lifted one foot and took a long step forward... towards the Merciless.

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Behind the Grand Buster, unnoticed by all participants in the drama unfolding, a scree of rubble shifted, rumbled and then slid to the side. Slowly, a dinged and scratched blue and grey armored hand and arm reached out of the hole it had poked in the wreckage. The arm began to feel around, gradually shifting more and more rubble away. Several meteres further into the mass of collapsed building debris a man sat in a dark cockpit, all his screens black, only a few winking red danger lights serving to illuminate his face, making the liquid seeping down from his hairline appear black and colorless as his eyes blazed with washed out color. "This is so... not... over!" Ysak promised as he inched the Duelist closer and closer towards the outside world.

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	76. End of a Nightmare, part 2

Mary O'Brien was twenty three years old. For the past two years she had summer interned as a hospital assistant for the Orb Red Cross Hospital, before taking on a position as interim nurse to help pay her way through college. She was a vivacious woman, well liked by staff and patients alike. Tall, slim and with an almost elfin beauty, she turned heads whenever she walked through a ward. She had a friendly and outgoing personality and knew her job well, easily forming rapports with even the most grim or depressed patients, who could not help but be cheered by her constant uplifting presence. For all that, she freqently was in hot water with her immediate superiors in the Nurse Deparment for her disregard of the standard dress code. Mary had experienced the same friction with her parents, for the same reason, ever since she turned fourteen, so she was used to it. A goth will always stand out as a goth, especially a punk goth, like Mary was. Her hair was dyed bright pink and dark black and styled in wild spikes. Even in her nurses uniform she wore studded leather wristbands and a studded collar complete with skull clasp... toned down from her normal ensemble of spikes leather and rebellious emblazoned T shirts. A portable music player always rode on her left hip, two wireless earphones nearly constantly in her ears, blaring punk rock and goth metal music so loudly it was often audible to people more than ten feet away, even though the earphones. There were few things Mary liked more than loud music... the louder the better... she liked to feel the music resonating in her brain and along her skin... to experience it in ways beyond the normal. Most people who knew her would often wonder that she could hear anything at all, but she'd never had any problems with deafness.

She'd showed up to work that morning full of mixed feelings. She'd really wanted to go to the peace march parade today, but she had a punishment shift to do because she refused to change her way of dressing or styling her hair. Her supervisor had given her a choice... she could come to work in total accordance with the dress code and work normal hours, or she could dress the way she wanted and work an extra shift every three days. So it was that mary was checking data sheets and delivering medication while all her friends were marching through the streets, participating in what was probably going to be known as the greatest peace protest the world had ever known. A large part of Mary was saddened and envious of her friends, that they could go and become a part of history while Mary was stuck dealing with the drudgery of everyday life, but she couldn't stay gloomy for long... it just wasn't her way. Within an hour of getting to work, she barely even thought about how she was missing out, especially since she could watch the important events on the TV. Many patients were listening on radios as well, but Mary couldn't live without her music and so she got only visual impressions of the peace march. Thus she was probably one of maybe ten or fifteen people in the entire city that wasn't affected by Lacus's songs... she never even heard them and the constant aural assualt of a goth metal band was easily enough to disrupt any residual mental echoes from Lacus's power.

She did notice though that many of the patients were crying tears... tears of joy, because of the smiles on their faces. She briefly contemplated asking one of them what was up, but she was so busy and just then one of her favorite songs started playing... the "Wail of the Banshee" by the band Revenance. Something did catch her eye though... a familiar face, oft seen in many young life magazines and celebrity publications. Lacus Clyne was apparently in Orb, marching in the streets in support of the peace movement. Mary felt that stab of jealousy again... I mean, she'd never been a rabid Lacus Clyne fan... her songs were a little wishy washy for Mary's taste, but she still had a lot of respect for her... that girl had some seriously shitty cards dealt to her, what with her father getting killed and other things during the previous war. Mary had no idea who the cute guy with the brown hair was... the magazines never made any mention of Lacus Clyne having a boyfriend to replace Athrun Zala after their arranged marriage was inexplicably canceled late in the previous war. But whoever he was, he sure was a lucky guy... Mary knew guys who would cut off their one of their own testicles to get a french kiss from Lacus Clyne and whoever this guy was had just gotten two for free... hell, he was even carrying her in his arms, an adorable image if there ever was one. Mary was currently between boyfriends, but she knew the faces of love when she saw them, and she was seeing them then.

Mary lost herself in her work for a while, her music player cycling through some of the fifty plus hours of music she had stored on it as she continued her rounds, working her way up the twenty stories of the Residence building, delivering cups of pills to patients and removing dirty bedding and pausing to check in on a patient she knew every so often. They were uniformly glued to whatever TV screen or radio was available, their faces amazed and almost always glistening with happy tears. Mary would shake her head in puzzlement... everyone sure seemed emotional today... but her music was still turned up loud and so she remained unaffected by Lacus's songs. She missed Cagalli's first appearance, having been sorting through a storage room while looking for some new linen, but she managed to catch a glimpse of the former Representative talking on a stage of sorts about twenty minutes later. Whereas Lacus Clyne had elicted only a brief moment of recognition, Cagalli Yula Attha was an entirely different story. Mary was an Orbite, born and bred and to her, Cagalli Yula Attha was just about the coolest person in the world. Only barely seventeen years old and she was aleady a world leader, the Representative of Orb, she was THE symbol of girl power, as far as Mary was concerned. She wasn't some fairy tale princess either... Mary obviously didn't know her personally, but she'd heard about how Cagalli had fought on the front lines during the last battles of the previous war... you had to have some serious guts to do that.

As a matter of course, the crowd was going nuts... after Lord Uzumi Nara Attha, the previous Representative of Orb, had been killed in the EA invasion of Orb during the previous war, the hearts of the nation had gone out to Cagalli. She had further endeared herself to them by fighting on for the ideals of peace, putting herself in life threatening danger to bring the war to a close. Then she'd played a major role in bringing the peace talks to order, alongside Lacus Clyne and many other political and social figures. Even the revelation that she had been sleeping with Athrun Zala, son of Patrick Zala, the man who'd tried to destroy Earth, hadn't shaken her image in the eyes of most people in Orb. The rest of the world had freaked out, but Mary had personally been impressed and had cheered Cagalli on... now THAT was a rebellious statement. Screw T shirts and slogans... she'd taken a Coordinator... and one of the most unpopular ones ever at that... and had wild kinky sex with him on a nightly basis, if what she'd seen on the released video tape had been any evidence. Didn't get much more counter culture than the Natural Orb Head of State sleeping with a Coordinator soldier, the son of the PLANT Supreme Chairman, who was smoking hot, Mary had to admit. Mary personally thought Coordinators were all right people... she wasn't one herself, but she could hardly reconcile her beliefs on personal freedom with the anti-genetic enhancement progaganda of Blue Cosmos. If you wanted to make your child a Coordinator... good on you, its your choice, thats what she thought anyway. She didn't even hate Athrun Zala... she wished she had a boyfriend as loyal as him, willing to take the scorn of the entire world and remain true... people like that didn't just fall out of the sky.

She'd shrugged and gone off to sort through some more prescriptions... there was a heart bypass surgery scheduled for that afternoon that she needed to help prepare for as well. These two tasks kept her away from a TV for a good thirty minutes and her music kept the alarming news blaring over the radio blotted out as well. Thus she missed the Merciless dropping down from the sky and breaking up the peace protest, crushing the stage beneath its giant feet. She missed the appalling beginning of the massacre that was petrifying people around the world and throughout space as the giant war machine blasted thousands of tightly packed and helpless peace protestors into heat scorched atoms. She wasn't near any windows either, preventing her from seeing any of the explosions are smoke and dust clouds that blotted out much of the horizon around the city scape. In fact, the first sign Mary had that anything at all was wrong was the deep rumbling and vibration from the collapse of the three corporate headquarters buildings a half kilometer away. She paused, since the current song playing over her earphones didn't have a deep and heavy percussion line... and then she realized the vibration was affecting more than just her... medicine bottles were clattering in their cabinets and doors were shaking and swinging slightly on their hinges as the walls themselves hummed beneath her touch. "An earthquake?" she said out loud, not talking to anyone in particular. Orb was a volcanic island nation, earthquakes were not unheard of, though the Hospital was designed to be vibration proof. It must have been pretty serious to make such an impression where Mary was.

She finished filling a small paper cup with several painkiller pills and picked up her clipboard from a desk. Her clipboard was a big part of the secret to her success at the Hospital... she kept all sorts of notes on it, as well as a list of the location of every single one of her special patients, the ones she had a real strong bond with. This particular patient was one of her favorites, a fourteen year old boy named Jason Debora. Jason was... well, terminally ill wasn't the politically correct term, but... he was sick in a way that prevented him from getting any better. It was a biological imbalance of sorts, that affected his heart and lungs and brain... a genetic condition, one of those exceedingly rare conditions modern gene-therapy still remained unable to cure. Modern medicine could work wonders... but there always seemed to be a few things that nature... or God, depending on your beliefs... kept in its own realm. Jason was your average fourteen year old guy on the surface... but his heart was so weak that he had to be hooked up to a pacemaker or his blood pressure would drop to dangerously low levels and he needed another machine to help him breathe freely. Also, the parts of his brain that governed fine motor skills had started a rapid deterioration when he turned twelve... he could no long pick up and hold any item smaller than a hardback book with any degree of success, and he was getting worse by the day. An unfortunate side effect of this mental decay was agonizing pain that gripped his hands and legs much of the time, which was the reason for the painkillers. The doctors could not cure him... they could only ease his pain and pray for some sort of miracle. Their most generous estimates showed Jason's brain entirely shutting down by the time he was eighteen, rapidly followed by cessation of both voluntary and involuntary muscle control which would result in death.

Understandably, Jason wasn't the most happy go lucky of people, unable to have a normal life, confined to a hospital bed for the last two years straight, unable to even get up by himself to go to the bathroom for the last few months. The worst part was that he was entirely aware of his situation... his mental faculties had not decayed at all, just his muscle control. He was a scared boy trapped in a body he could no longer control... not a fun feeling... a waking nightmare really. He'd been extremely depressed and uncommunicative, until Mary was assigned to him anyway. It had taken her a while, but she'd managed to cheer him up, sitting and talking with him for hours and hours on end, treating him like a real person, totally ignoring his condition, acting like he was just temporarily sick and not deathly ill. Everyone else always looked at him with pity or sadness, unable to muster an uplifting comment for a boy everyone knew was really as good as dead. But Mary just skipped all that and made friends with him... her view on the whole thing was that even if he was going to die, that didn't mean he shouldn't live a full and happy life for as long as he could. Besides, there was always a chance that the war would end and the doctors could consult with someone up in the PLANTS... maybe they had a cure up there, where everyone was a Coordinator, with access to the sort of advanced medical technologies that even Orb doctors could only dream about. Not that the war seemed all that likely to end.

When Mary arrived at Jason's bed, which was in the East wing of the main hospital building, on the outermost edge of the building, floor six, a room with a wide picture window and balcony that afforded a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance, with the three massive corporate headquarters buildings dominating the near cityscape and brightening up the night like pillars of colossal light. Right now though there were dense grey clouds covering most of the city... Mary frowned, since the weather report that morning hadn't made any mention of a storm during the evening. The cloud cover was so thick she couldn't even see the three skyscrapers barely half a kilometer away. The TV in the corner of the room was only showing static for some reason, she resolved to have that looked into as well, since Jason couldn't even change the channels by remote control any more, his fingers unable to depress individual buttons. Jason was sitting up in his bed, facing out into the city, his face an unhealthy pale shade. A picture lay on his lap, a picture of his older brother, Lain Debora, a celebrated Orb hero of the Battle of Carpentaria. Mary had never met Lain, who was one of the biggest Orb celebrities around, a multiple Mobile Suit Ace and decorated hero, but she had to admit, she was impressed by his devotion to his brother... barely a day would go by without a gift or treat or message of some sort arriving from Lain for Jason. The picture showed Lain, a moderately handsome man of about her own age with slightly wild short black hair and mismatched eyes, one green, the other blue, posing in an exaggerated fashion in front of his M-4 Guardian mobile suit with the hand written caption "It's still no replacement for you, bro".

"That's so nice of your brother." Mary commented, taking out her earphones so she could talk normally. "I brought you the stuff you gotta take today." Mary made no comment about how she hoped it would make him feel better... the last thing Jason wanted to hear was pity or worry... he knew his situation and false words did not make it easier for him.

"Mary... whats going on?" Jason asked, his voice crystal clear... he didn't stammer or stutter at all. Yet. The Doctors projected that his speech functions would start to deteriorate by this time next year, eventually ending with him unable to communicate verbally by the time he turned sixteen. Mary treasured every word he said because of that.

"Whaddya mean?" she asked, setting the cup down on a table beside the bed. "Looks pretty stormy out, doesn't it. And me without my damn umbrella too. Oops, sorry, forgot about that no cussing rule. Oh well." she said with a wink and a grin. Jason turned his head and stared at her. She noted that his expression wasn't amused... it was more incredulous.

"You have no idea what's going on?" Jason sounded surprised. "Haven't you been watching the TV?"

"Been kinda busy, man. I got a lot of stuff I gotta do on these extra shifts... damn supe-bitch always loads me down on my extra days, you know that. Oops, cussing again." Mary paused. "Oh, you mean about Lacus Clyne and Cagalli showing up on television and all? Yeah, too bad they're both taken eh? Not bad looking, are they? You a Lacus Clyne fan? I'm not really..."

"Mary... there's an Earth Alliance mobile suit rampaging through the city... it attacked the peace protestors and has killed thousands of people." Jason said slowly, cutting her off, his voice very quiet. Mary stared at him.

"What the hell are you talking about? You watching those R movies again? You're parents will kill me if they find out I loaned you those flicks."

"It just destroyed the three skyscrapers! I watched it happen. Didn't you feel that shock a little while ago?" Jason asked.

"You mean the earthquake?"

"I mean the three buildings falling to the ground. Those aren't clouds out there... thats dust and smoke."

"Bullshit. Damn it, have to work on that, sorry Jason. But really, that's crazy... the Earth Alliance is a lot of bad screwed up things... but they'd have to be totally nuts to send a mobile suit out to attack unarmed peace protestors... I mean, that wouldn't do ANYTHING good for them. The opposite really. You feeling all right, man? You look pasty... fever maybe?"

"Mary... I'm not fucking kidding around." Jason snapped. He pointed out the window with one hand, the fingers flopping about limply as he was forced to point with his wrist. "A giant mobile suit just blew the shit out of the bottoms of the three corporate headquarters not three minutes ago. They collapsed and caused that big shockwave that we felt... and raised the huge cloud of dust we're looking at!"

"Jason... goddamn it, watch your language... I can lose my job if another nurse hears you talking like that and tells your parents you learned it from me!" Mary snapped back.

"Listen to me!" Jason shouted... but then listening was a moot point, because the Merciless came jetting up the streets towards the hospital at that moment, seemingly charging directly at them, its wide shoulders and arms knocking chunks out of the buildings on either side of the street as it advanced towards them. The giant mobile suit came closer and closer and closer until Mary threw up an arm in panic, sure that it was about to crash directly into the building. At the last possible second the pilot gunned his thrusters, sending the war machine thundering upwards in a steep climb, the roar of the engines and the blasting winds cracking the glass sliding doors that led to the balcony outside and shaking the entire building. Barely had the tremors died down when a massive impact once again shook the building as the Merciless landed in the middle of the inner courtyard-garden.

"What does that fucking psycho think he's doing! This is a fucking hospital! Fucking Red Cross Hospital!" Mary shouted, outraged at the recklessness of the mobile suit pilot... who knew how many elderly patients had nearly been scared into cardiac arrest by this stunt... some might already be dying because of this son of a bitch's grandstanding. Not to mention the effect all this noise and shaking was going to have down in the maternity wards... babies had sensitive hearing... loud noises like this could easily cause deafness in the very young. "Don't move, Jason. I'll be right back... I'm going to go find out what the FUCK is going on here!" Mary called, forgetting in the heat of the moment that Jason really didn't have much choice but to sit tight... he could not walk on his own, and his wheelchair was all the way across the room. She was just about to leave the room when Jason called out again, pointing at a new arrival... a more normal sized mobile suit, painted green and tan and orange, hoisting two large weapons in its hands, with an even huger cannon slung across its back. This new mobile suit advanced slowly up the street, finally coming to a halt about fifty meters away from the hospital, its weapons pointed down at the ground. "What the HELL!?" Mary shouted... was there no end to the madness? This was a HOSPITAL!

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"Very good." Cray's amused voice echoed around the cockpit of the Grand Buster as if the words themselves could not find a place that would accept them to settle on. "Though I'm surprised... you seemed quite gung-ho about trying to kill me earlier... now you hesitate, when I'm leaving myself open. I'll never understand you Coordinators."

"Leave the hospital... I'll be more than glad to kill you then." Dearka gritted out.

"Aww, but I like it here. It's a nice box... kinda reminds me of home. I lived in a cell that was about proportionally as big as this hospital compared to the Merciless for most of my life. I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to leave just because you ask me to."

"Is there any way we can get you to leave the hospital?" Miriallia asked, deadly serious.

"Hmm... uhh... umm... no." Cray replied and laughed. "Seriously though... how can you expect me to make a deal with you two after what you did to me in Panama? Fool me once, shame on you... fool me twice, shame on me."

"You were planning on betraying the terms of that deal too." Dearka pointed out.

"Maybe so, but you broke the terms first, which puts you at fault." Cray retorted. "I'm growing tired of verbal debate... if you want to say something important to me, it had better come out of a cannon barrel." The Merciless's shoulder gatling cannon barrels continued to spin at firing speed, though no shells were shot just yet. "If you won't kick it off, I guess I'll have to."

"Wait! Damn it, wait! You want to fight me, then lets fight each other! I thought you people liked to be challenged... how is it challenging to attack your opponent while hiding behind a hostage so they can't shoot back at you?" Dearka spat.

"You misunderstand. I don't want to fight you. I want to kill you... there's a difference. I enjoy exercising my abilities to their max... but that's a side effect of killing you, not vice versa." Cray replied casually. "If you demand to be bound by a code of conduct that forbids you from defending yourself when your life is threatened just because of a stupid hospital, well, thats disappointing, but I'll get over it."

At that moment a female figure in a nurse's uniform came charging out onto one of the balcony's that extended out from some parts of the hospital building, probably where the more long term care patients rooms were, where the rooms were like hotel rooms rather than just cordened off temporary beds. The nurse had wildly styled and colored hair, which certainly made her stand out, almost as much as the agitated waving of her arms and the jumping up and down she was doing to get Dearka and Miriallia's attention. The woman was shouting something at them, which Miriallia managed to catch a piece of after turning up the gain on the external sound pickups. "... the fuck do you think you're doing!? Move the fucking battle you fuck-heads! This is a hospital! Neutral territory! Off limits! Injured people HERE... go AWAY! Fight in some fucking other place you bastards!" Dearka was about to reply when frustration apparently overcame the nurse and she raced back inside the hospital.

"Bzzt! Time's up!" Cray announced, dropping the Merciless down into a crouch on its haunches to bring the gatling cannons into line with the shorter Grand Buster. His fingers jammed the triggers tight to the joysticks.

"NO!" Dearka and Miriallia cried as one, the arms of the Grand Buster reaching out towards the hospital in vain, its weapons at last pointing towards where the Merciless was hiding.

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Mary had just made it into the hallway outside Jason's room when she heard a loud cry from outside... finally a response from the mobile suit pilot outside. She turned on her heel and skidded, slightly overbalancing as she rushed to get back outside so she could give the heartless bastards who would fight near a hospital more than just one piece of her mind. She would forever remember this moment... slightly off balance, her arms windmilling slightly as she fought to turn around without falling over, the opening sounds of "Wail of the Banshee" playing through her discarded earphones, lying on the table by Jason's bed, audible to her even through the astoundingly loud whining sound that echoed from somewhere behind her. Jason was sitting in his bed, facing the window as he watched as a helpless bystander in the most literal sense of the term. Mary loved loud music... the louder the better... nothing made her happier than a percussion single that made her bones shake, so loud you had to feel it rather than hear it. She felt she'd heard some pretty damned loud noises in her time, built up something of an immunity to them. She was wrong. When the Merciless opened up with its four 120mm gatling cannon roughly twenty five meters behind her, she got a real taste of LOUD. Each time a shell was fired a four meter flash of fire ejected from the spinning barrel, the superheated gases expanding faster than the speed of sound. Forty sonic booms per second rocked the hospital's East wing from a range of less than a hundred feet. Glass shattered into dust fine particles and the drywall covering the interior surfaces of the ceiling and walls cracked wide open under the sonic assault. This was all, of course, before the first shell struck the building and detonated.

The sound of the guns firing was loud enough to drown out thought... loud enough to leave people stunned and bleeding from the ears within a forty meter radius. The noise of the high explosive shells detonating easily surpassed the sound of the guns firing. Mary was physically picked up and thrown into a wall by the concentrated sonic shockwave of the first few shells, and repeatedly battered against the same wall by the physical shockwaves that followed nanoseconds later. The last sight she was due to see before unconsciousness claimed her was the Grand Buster, advancing on the hospital, guns aimed right at Jason's room as it filled with fire and shrapnel, the bed disappearing in an inferno as bright blood was scattered all over the floor and windows, just before they turned to gravel and blew out from the pressure wave. The very last thing she was consciously aware of doing was uttering a piercing shriek of anger and loss that scaled up and up through the aural scale until it encompassed her entire world... and then everything went silent and dark as the hospital collapsed around and below her, the building eviscerated by Cray's attack.

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"Shit!" Dearka growled, turning the Grand Buster's forward momentum into a sideways stagger as dozens of 120mm shells burst out of the hospital building and started to strike the buildings nearby and the Grand Buster itself. Watching the hospital collpase was like viewing a time lapse video of entropy at work, with all the slides except the for the one at the beginning, the one at the middle and the one at the end removed. One moment the building was fine... the next it was bulging outward, huge flaming cracks racing up and down its entire surface, glass shattering and dust rising in a rippling cloud from the facade... the moment after that there was nothing but charred stone blocks flying through the air in a whirling storm of shells and debris blasting outward from where the hospital wing had formerly stood. Dearka found his fingers closing on the triggers for his weapons before he fully realized what he was doing... it was too late to save the hospital now, so he might as well just try and see if he could bring the son of a bitch down. His conscience still dragged at him, but he ruthelessly burned it away with the fires of outrage... he could guilt trip about this after he survived it... if he survived it. "Shoulder beams and missile control to you." he announced.

"Understood." Miriallia replied, a quaver in her voice as she fought with her own feelings... it tore at her soul to unleash the destructive might of the Grand Buster where it could so easily go astray and cause innocents pain and suffering, but if they didn't shoot now the monster would only find some other hostage to hide behind and they'd never be rid of him. Target reticles appeared on her primary screen and she took hold of her joysticks like they were the only thing keeping her alive and sane. Dearka was ducking and juking the Grand Buster through an ever rising maelstrom of shells, beams and missiles as Cray continued his assault, walking his fire back and forth blindly, hoping to overwhelm them in one fell swoop apparently. She did her best to hold the target icons steady on the Merciless, which was every now and again visible through the smoke and dust, but combining her relative inexperience, the wild motion of the machine she was sitting in and the horrible visibility conditions, she couldn't maintain a target lock for more than a second or so... long enough to chance firing with the beam cannons, but never long enough to waste firing the missiles. She never saw any of her shots strike home, but the mere act of firing helped calm her down and keep herself focused.

Dearka contorted the Grand Buster through a series of maneuvers he never would have dreamed of attempting in the original Buster, but when in this new SEED mode thing he'd discovered while a prisoner at JIHAD even the most insane of stunts now not only seemed possible, but almost easy. By no means was he putting the Grand Buster through the sorts of moves he'd seen Kira or Athrun pull off during the last war, but he was no sitting target either. He spun the Grand Buster under a clutch of shotgun shells, the explosive bullets passing within a human arms length of his head before whipping harmlessly off into the distance. He used the momentum from the spin to lift his legs, rolling sideways through the air as the hyper impulse cannon beams dug a deep scar through the ground where his feet had formerly been. He landed and dropped to his knees, firing two quick blasts with his own shotgun and a hastily aimed shot from his hyper impulse cannon as well. He didn't really expect to hit anything, he just wanted to provoke a fresh assault from Cray so he could better pinpoint the actual location of the Merciless so he could know where to move. He saw his second shotgun blast strike an unyielding surface and bounce off... the Merciless was about one hundred meters away, still standing with the hospital at its back, off to Dearka's current right.

"Bracket him! Keep him right there!" Dearka ordered. Miriallia did not question his tone of voice... she thought she had some idea of what he was planning anyway. Not bothering to try and get a target lock, she fired the beam cannons as fast as she could, following the green energy lances with sixty missiles that struck the hospital building, knocking out huge chunks of masonry and steel which crashed down on the Merciless to frighteningly little effect... the mobile suit weathered the stone rain much like a man might weather a spring drizzle.

"That's what I'm talking about. That's fighting for survival right there! Now if only you'd been doing that from the beginning, you might have actually stood some chance of victory." Cray commented, sounding disgustingly calm. Miriallia heard the sound of fingers flying rapidly across a keyboard behind her, as Dearka frantically entered commands into a keyboard with one hand while he flew the mobile suit with his feet and the other hand.

"Who said anything about fighting for survival... we're fighting to win here... slight difference." Dearka whispered. "This is going to be a real near thing, Mir. We're going to bluff him again... just like in Panama but with a twist."

"I'm not exactly running away over here." She reminded him. "Do what we have to. For Ysak. For us. For everyone."

"That's right... for Ysak... for us... for everyone!" Dearka repeated, dropping his hand held weapons, seemingly carelessly but in actuality he was quite precise about his placement. Both weapons ended up lying slightly canted upwards, leaning against a building or across the decorative median in the middle of the street. Wasting no time, Dearka swung the Earthshaker cannon around and brought it into firing position. The drill tipped support struts snapped out of the Grand Buster's legs and fired themselves into the ground, digging several meters into the ashpalt and concrete of the city foundations. He slammed home one of the five remaining shells and locked the breech shut, swining the weapon around to his hastily programmed targeting coordinates. Dearka smiled a nasty grin and held up two crossed fingers. "Survive this, fucker!" he announced over the general comm line as he prepared to jam down the triggers. From dropping his hand held weapons to ready to fire the artillery cannon all of maybe three or four seconds had passed.

Cray had of course seen the artillery cannon being deployed and he was quick to activate the Citadel array, though a plume of smoke and the bluish light of the activating lightwave barrier prevented him from seeing the cannon being aimed at him. He didn't really need to see it though... there was no where else to aim the monstrous thing but at him. There was a pause, about ten seconds long... he'd just started to think Dearka wasn't going to fire at all when a monstrous explosion deformed his lightwave barrier, denting it inwards slightly again, but to similarly useless total effect as the last time they'd used it against him. They just never learned... and they called him insane? Wasn't a definition of insanity something like trying the same action over and over again and expecting a different result each time? They were the crazy ones, not him!

Of course, what Cray could not see and did not even think about in his self superior dreams was the time delay between his activation of the Citadel array and the time when he was hit by the Earthshaker. This time delay was quite significant... because as soon as Dearka had seen the vision obscuring lightwave barrier come up he'd hit his triggers... sending his first Earthshaker shot screaming almost straight up into the sky, on his hopefully precise enough trajectory. That was the cool thing about ballistic weapons... they followed the laws of mathematics and gravity much more visibly than beam weapons. Sometimes that was a disadvantage, like when you had to compensate for distance or prevailing weather conditions. Sometimes, like now, it was an advantage, because Dearka knew the speed at which he'd fired the shell, had plotted its likely course and from those two factors alone he knew exactly when it would reach the zenith of its flight and when exactly it would land on its target location.

Even as he thought these thoughts the Grand Buster was already in the process of reloading the Earthshaker, the breech snapping backwards with a tremendous clang, ejecting the ton and a half cylinder that had contained the propellant charge for the artillery shell in a burst of steam and smoke, sending it flipping lazily through the air in almost slow motion before it hit pavement with a sound like a church bell falling from the belfry. Barely had the shell casing hit the ground when a fresh shell had been slammed home into the gun and the breech closed again. A seconds aim adjustment and Dearka fired again, this time striking the Merciless's shield head on. The street cracked and buckled underneath his feet from the dual impact shocks as the reinforced legs of the Grand Buster soaked up the recoils of the Earthshaker and transferred it into the less resilient materials of the street and ground. An instant before his computer told him it was safe, Dearka disengaged the support struts and ejected his second shell casing almost nonchalantly, stepping forward and kicking the first shell case behind him, removing the evidence of any trickery from easy view. The second shell case twirled through the air, trailing its own wreath of smoke before crashing into and through the second story of a nearby office building.

"Pathetic... your weapon posses such power, but you insist on wasting it time and again. You should put that thing away before you hurt someone with it. Someone like yourself." Cray snorted, disengaging his Citadel array. "Can't you tell when you're outclassed? The Merciless possesses not only the perfect offense, but the perfect defense as well! You cannot beat me, Coordinator... you must realize this."

"The only thing I've realized is that I really have been a fool. A fool to think that I was facing an even slightly worthwhile opponent." Dearka retorted. He looked at a timer he'd started on one of his secondary panels out of the corner of his eye. The timer was counting down from forty three at that moment. "You're nothing to me... not even worth hating!"

"You should be careful who's words you steal! I should be the one saying that!" Cray said darkly. "Though I disagree...you're still worth hating. Everyone is at least worth that much."

"Dearka is right... you're not the one we hate. You're just a tool... an attack dog with a short leash." Miriallia replied. "I feel nothing for you, because you're nothing to me. You're not a human... you're not even a monster. You're just a part... a computer that looks like a human. There's no point in hating a computer... they don't have feelings."

"That's where you're wrong." Cray snarled. "Hate itself is a point in and of itself. If you're trying to insult me, you're failing. You can't hurt me with words. You can't hurt me with weapons, you can't hurt me with words... you just plain fukcing can't hurt me! Give up! Bare your throats for the killing blow!" he paused a moment. "And I'm no tool... you may not have realized it, but I enjoy this! I've always enjoyed this... my fondest memories are of the battlefield!"

"Sure of that are you?" Dearka replied calmly. "The Doc was an expert in memory manipulation. He told us all about you and Frost and Ashino. How does it feel, when I know more about you than you do? Hell, you don't even know what you remember... how can you be sure your memories are real!?"

"Because they are real! Memories are always real! I may have been mem-wiped once or twice but the Doc always left some of my memories intact!"

"How can you be certain?" Miriallia asked. "You might only remember them because he wanted you to remember."

"Shut up! The Doc wouldn't do that! He was a father to me! He always told me the truth! My memories are true!"

"Do yours agree with Frost's?" Dearka asked. "You've known him for a long time, haven't you? How long have you known Frost anyway?"

"Ever since he was a young kid! I mean, I've known him for about three years now..." Cray's voice trailed off as he caught up to what he was saying. Ever since he was a kid... three years now... mutually exclusive statements, given that Frost was... Cray frowned. He didn't know how old Frost was. But he couldn't be more than a year older or younger than Cray himself. That meant he was somewhere in the range of... Cray paused again, his frown deepening. He didn't remember how old he was. He tried to remember his last birthday... he couldn't. He didn't even know when his birthday was. There was a steady building pressure inside his skull that was really getting on his nerves. Something was wrong... something wasn't right about this. When was he born? Where was he born? Who were his parents? Something about a sister flashed through his mind but was gone before he could focus on it. Every memory trail he followed always seemed to come to a dead end about three years ago... a solid wall of blankness that concealed a room full of shadowy objects he could barely perceive. The pressure kept building until it felt like his blood was going to boil out of his skull through his eye sockets. "It doesn't fucking matter! Why do you care anyway!? You're both about to die!"

Dearka watched his timer count down to ten. He couldn't help but look up into the sky. Miriallia had already anticipated this desire though, since she'd been staring into the sky for much of the conversation they'd had with Cray. The camera's could just barely pick up a tiny speck high in the sky... a speck that grew rapidly larger with each passing second. It did not appear on their radar... dropping almost straight down from a sub-orbital trajectory, the shell was falling down from an angle above that of which most radar emissions went out from... it would eventually show up, but by that time it would hopefully be too late. And if it did not show on their radar or other non-visual sensors, then hopefully it would remain cloaked from Cray as well. The timer was at six. He dropped the Earthshaker cannon and took a step forward, facing the Merciless full on, the Grand Buster's hands empty. His weapons lay around him, the discards of an apparently beaten fighter. "You're right. We can't beat you, Cray. You're too strong for us." Dearka said, eyes fully on his timer.

"Glad you realized it. About damn time. But don't think this is going to be quick... you've seriously inconvenienced me today... you're both going to pa..." Cray's eyes flicked down to where a large red warning icon was blaring on his short ranged sensor screen. His shotgun was just coming up to aim at the Grand Buster... Cray stared at his screen in brief puzzlement... by the indications of his sensors, whatever it was, it was right on top of him almost... but he couldn't see anything to either side, the front or the back, where he nudged up against the hospital building. "Where the fuck is it!?"

Barely were the words out of his mouth when the Earthshaker shell finally reached its target. Almost. Dearka's frantic mid-maneuver calculations had been off by a few fractions of a decimal place... enough to cause the shell to deviate about six meters from his ideal impact point. Instead of dropping straight down onto the Merciless's head, the Earthshaker shell went a tiny fraction long... the multi-ton explosive warhead struck right in the middle of the roof of the twenty story residence hall that the Merciless was backed up against. The building didn't present a strong enough resistance to trigger the impact fused warhead and so it continued to plummet almost straight downward at terminal velocity, passing through the unarmored floors and ceilings of the residence hall like they were made from paper, tearing a twenty meter wide hole through the center of the building to mark it's passage, utterly pulverizing anything unfortunate enough to be in its path towards the ground. Just about the time Cray had opened his mouth the second time, the shell finally struck ground and detonated. The force of the explosion vaporized the entire foundation of the residence hall and in fact lifted the building itself a good fifteen meters straight up into the air, even as it blew the bottom eight stories outwards in a cataclysm of super-heat and shrapnel.

The blast wave struck a microsecond later with hideous force. The second Earthshaker shell had struck the Citadel array full on and much of its force had been absorbed by the lightwave barrier's energy fields. Not so of the first shell fired. It's effects were free to expand without constraint and the destruction was far more widespread than the second shot because of this. The force from the second shot had partially collapsed sections of the other hospital wings... the first shot finished the job. The North, West, and South wings swayed and then tumbled down like a sand castle struck by a baseball bat. The residence hall hung in midair for a frozen slice of time, seemingly lifted on giant thruster jets of brilliant orange and white fire before gravity reinstated its hold, causing the building to twist and fold, snapping into large sections that fell from the sky like short lived meteors. These building-meteors hammered the Merciless in a fashion suitable to its name, breaking across its back and shoulders like over-enthusiastic back slaps from a drunken friend. The repeated hammer blows along with the initial concussion wave itself proved too much for even Cray's sense of balance, especially with the already weakened legs the Merciless had. The "unstoppable" Merciless toppled forward like a puppet with it's strings cut and did a solid forward faceplant, gouging out a crater of its own, though it retained hold of its weapons.

Dearka had not stood idle while his gamble paid off... the shell hadn't landed where he wanted it too and so he had to take direct action again. He wasn't sure if a Earthshaker shell to the head and shoulders would have dropped the Merciless, but he was damned sure a near miss wasn't going to do the job. There was no time to waste... he gritted his teeth and wished he could have given Miriallia some warning as to what he was going to do, since it was a trick that was well outside the normal design range of motion of the Grand Buster. He did not waste a second or two by reaching down for his discarded shotgun and hyper impulse cannon... instead he hooked the "toe" part of each foot underneath each weapon and jumped, lifting his legs up into a somersault tuck. For a brief instant, the Grand Buster and both weapons were airborne all at the same time, none gripped by gravity. The Grand Buster started to roll backwards, its greater mass reclaimed by the hungry gravitational fields before its weapons. Dearka hastened the roll with his thruster jets, turning a quick backward somersault. Miriallia cried out as the machine flipped over backwards unexpectedly, small items tumbling around the cockpit. The Grand Buster finished it's somersault and was now facing the ground from perhaps ten meters in the air. Dearka swung his arms out and caught each weapon as it dropped through the air, seemingly in slow motion, like the air was made of clear tar or something. Now he had a choice... he could shoot the weapons or he could catch himself and avoid a faceplant in a one hundred and forty ton war machine. He chose the obvious choice.

Cray was just pushing the Merciless to its hands and knees, huge sections of building cracking and shattering as his back pushed them out of the way. His back armor had taken a beating, but he'd already lost the two missile tubes on the back and their ruined mass had taken much of the blast damage, further warping the already useless nuclear missiles. All in all, he'd been pretty damned lucky... if that shell had dropped onto his head he'd probably be lucky not to have been vaporized down to the waist, Phase Shift immunity to non-beam weapons or not. A shell of that size couldn't exactly be called a standard explosive weapon... the forces it unleashed were beyond what the Phase Shift designers had tested their armor at. Shaking off the near miss, Cray chided himself for what must have been the thousandth time... don't talk with your prey animals... it never helps. If they aren't stalling for time waiting for backup then they're laying a trap for you... it never failed. He was still on his hands and knees when Dearka's anti-armor shotgun rounds caught the Merciless on the back of the head, sending a vicious lurch through the entire machine. Shaking that trauma off as well, Cray was just opening his mouth to swear when his cockpit was illuminated by the camera depiction of the approaching blue-red energy blast. Cray didn't try to roll or evade to either side... he just swung both arms out wide and let the Merciless drop, hitting his back thrusters as he did so to hasten his emergency dodge, bashing himself face first into the ground again.. He barely made it.

The hyper-impulse cannon did not take the Merciless through the head and chest like Deark had planned... instead the beam carved a scorched ruinous scar along the Merciless's back, melting the twisted wreckage of the nuclear missiles into glowly slag, shearing off the back mounted CIWS mounts and most importantly... destroying every single back mounted thruster port, irrecoverably grounding the Merciless, at least until he got pretty much its entire back half swapped out. No more would Cray be able to take flight in his hulking war machine... all movement would have to be trusted to his already damaged legs. For the first time in a very long while, Cray started to feel his confidence recede just a little bit. Not even the sound of the Grand Buster slamming face first into the ground a little ways off was enough to cheer him up. he was taking too much damage... his legs... his missiles... his thrusters... he absolutely, positively could not let this continue. He reared up, arcing the Merciless's back to help it regain its feet. He was glad to see that his impromptu dodge still had not been enough to shake loose his rigor-mortis grip on his weapons. Secondary screens warned of the various hurts of the Merciless... he'd lost a lot of armor, several weapon systems, his thrusters and his head had been damaged as well... his long range sensors were pretty much gone. Not that it mattered... the enemy was right in front of him anyway.

Dearka and Miriallia hung in their cockpit restraints, their necks sore and their eyes bleary from the uncushioned impact and the whiplash that had followed. Dearka wasn't even sure he'd even hit his target... he'd had time to aim a little it and pull the triggers, but not enough to see if the shots hit. He'd heard several explosions, but right now it was a struggle even remembering how to think, much less bring the Grand Buster to its feet. As his mind struggled to reboot itself he seriously hoped Miriallia would forgive him for the unexpected jarring... he'd known what he was doing and had been able to brace for it a little bit. She'd just been a passenger, along for the ride with no idea what was happening. He'd imagine he'd get a reasonably stern lecture about his actions, assuming there was a time later when she could lecture him. If his shots had not been telling then that wasn't all that likely. "I'd like to meet the guy who taught you how to fly." Miriallia croaked from in front of him.

"Why's that?" Dearka asked, groaning as he tenatively reached for his controls again, his overstretched muscles screaming hopeless denials at him as he fought through the pain.

"I need to punch his lights out. Who the hell do you think you are, pulling a backflip like that? You think we're in some kinda action movie?" Miriallia complained. "Kira... sure. Athrun... certainly. Ysak... maybe. But you and the Grand Buster? No way! Backflips are officially against the rules now."

"I pulled it off, didn't I?"

"You call taking a header into the pavement "pulling it off"?" Miriallia shuddered. "I don't wanna see what you consider a bust, in that case."

"I got him. I got him good, though. I think." Dearka said defensively. He brought the Grand Buster up to its knees.

"You thought wrong." Miriallia said, her voice tiny. The Merciless stood over them, looming like a cliff, blocking out the sun. The twin barrels of its hyper impulse cannons looked big enough to crawl inside and curl up in as they hovered, rock steady, about five meters away from the head and upper chest of the Grand Buster. The tableau seemed to shift into a different timestream, where moments passed like days and seconds like years. The sun beat down brightly from on high, casting the front of the Merciless into dark shadow, liming it in golden light, with a slight heat distortion in front of the twin cannon barrels as they charged to capacity. The oceean wind blew in cold and harsh across the ruined sector of the city, pushing the smoke in raggedy grey streams past the two mobile suits, garbing them both in wisps of sooty wool scarves. Neither mobile suit's sensors picked up the sound of rubble shifting, of metal scraping against stone, of thrusters burning furiously as they strained to lift several times their design mass. Metal tore and rent with fatigue screams like dying souls and stone blocks the size of cars bounced and danced as an irresistable force slowly pushed its way upwards from beneath them. The wreckage near the edge of where the three massive skyscrapers had fallen began to bluge upwards, debris heaving and sliding in scores of small avalanches as a large object finally clawed its way back to the surface.

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Ysak took a deep breath as his screens finally picked up some light, illuminating his cockpit once more. Like a legend rising from a grave too shallow to contain its magnificence, the Duelist slowly rose from its unnatural tomb of dressed stone and poured concrete, overworked thrusters glowing pink at their edges as they vomited fat washes of white-blue fire. The photon cloak was a shadow of its former glory, but it still stubbornly clung to its mounts on the backs of the Duelist's shoulders, its fabric torn and ripped by the falling debris and the painfully convulted struggle to escape the clinging grasp of the buidings burying the Duelist. It hadn't been easy, worming the machine through tiny tolerances of the buildings around him, moving sometimes only inches at a time as he crushed and smashed his way through the rubble towards what he only hoped was the surface. He'd begun to fear he was only digging himself deeper into his prison when his arm finally broke free. From there it was much easier, though still far too slow for his current state of mind. Dearka was still out there, still fighting Cray. Or so he hoped... Dearka was damned good, one of the best soldiers Ysak knew and one of the few people he'd ever trusted to watch his back in a fight, but Dearka's mind was bound to be slightly split, with Miriallia on the battlefield as well... and against Cray the slightest weakness could be enough to be deadly, especially when Dearka was fighting the bastard alone. Every second he spent out of the fight was one second more that Dearka hung suspended between life and death.

The Duelist was in rough shape... its exterior was scarred and dented, armor plates ripped off or abraded away, the hip and shoulder mounted weapons crushed flat or scraped off, the beam rifle lost somewhere in the wreckage, likely useless with damage anyway. His CIWS was clogged, his sensors except for his cameras were off line, most of his secondary displays had shorted out or cracked and he knew he'd sustained a head injury of some sort, judging from the sticky drying blood that coated the left side of his face, glueing his eye half shut. But for all that, he'd rarely felt more empowered than he did right then. His head was clear, his vision steady, his heart calm and his mind focused. His beam saber was still gripped tightly in one hand, and he wasted no time in drawing the second sword as soon as he had the chance. He'd taken his helmet off while digging his way out... the visor was so badly cracked as to render seeing through it impossible, and he tossed his head, flipping his sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. The Duelist slowly drifted upwards through the air, like it was filled with lighter than air gas that buoyed it up without seeming effort. Vortices of wind and thruster exhaust sent spirals of smoke and dust spinning around him as he surveyed the city around him. It looked worse for the wear, worse than he remembered before the buildings dropped on him. The shame of falling for such an obvious trap heated his face... one more thing to make Cray pay for.

With his long range sensors inoperable, it took Ysak a moment to locate Dearka. It didn't help that the Grand Buster wasn't moving around, fighting the good fight. No, it was kneeling on the ground, near the remains of some sort of large building complex that looked to have been recently leveled by either a series of attacks or some unbelievably powerful blast. It was about four hundred or so meters away from his current position, but this fact was nothing more than a secondary statistic scrolling through Ysak's mind right then. He'd seen the Merciless... huge plumes of black smoke rising from its back, but standing and whole, menacing the Grand Buster from close range with its hyper impulse cannons. Plainly Dearka had put up a hell of a fight, judging from the widespread property damage and new damage to the Merciless, but it hadn't been enough. The Grand Buster was vulnerable, its weapons all disarrayed and unable to move quickly enough to target the enemy before the Grand Buster was annihilated in a furious discharge of sun-like heat. For that matter, Ysak himself was too far away to possibly intervene physically in time. Instead, he did the one thing he could do to help his friend. He hit his comm button and the external speakerphone at the same time. "CRAY!"

Cray had been savoring his total victory for a handful of precious seconds, well aware that every person present then knew who had won. Dearka had made life real interesting for a few seconds there, he'd been almost good enough to put an end to Cray... but as they say, almost only counted in horsehoes and hand grenades. Cray had chuckled when he'd thought that... it always seemed such an incomplete list to him, because almost counted with a lot of weapons. He'd been just about to hit the trigger stud when something totally unexpected happened. Someone who was already dead came back to life. When Ysak shouted over the open comm line, Cray was so shocked he actually hesitated. His head snapped up and he panned his cameras around in a panic... where was that voice coming from? Was he to have no peace in victory? Why was a dead guy... especially a dead Coordinator... talking to him? Cray had to admit he'd had hallucinations and delusions before... but they were usually self induced and they never featured the voices of defeated enemies. Finally he found the Duelist, somehow free of the thousands of tons of rubble he'd watched fall on it, hovering in midair above the small mountain of debris that marked its tomb. "That's impossible." Cray protested.

"He's alive?" Dearka whispered, at least as shocked as Cray was. He'd seen the buildings collapse on top of the Duelist... there had been hundreds of tons of steel and stone covering his friend that last time he'd seen him. A Gundam was tough... damn tough. But no mobile suit was tough enough to survive under that much debris. And even if it was, the shock of impact? How had Ysak survived that? Not that Dearka was complaining... but he just couldn't wait to hear how Ysak had managed to steal the devil's own luck to survive that disaster! "He's really alive?" a tear trickled from his eye.

"Best as I can determine and the sensors all agree... that's the Duelist." Miriallia answered. "Not that I understand how or why, mind you. I really, really, really thought he was dead." she added, very quietly.

"You and I have unfinished business!" Ysak declared. He had to take Cray's attention away from Dearka and Miriallia long enough for them to get the Grand Buster free and clear. The shock of seeing him alive again would wear off soon and Ysak knew Cray would only delight in killing Dearka in front of him. "I'm not even close to done with you yet, you bastard. Did you honestly think you could slow me down just by dropping a few puny buildings on me? Please. Don't bore me with any more childish tricks." he threw every ounce of scorn and derision he could muster into his tone.

"I killed you already! Shoo! Shoo, go away, ghost!" Cray turned the Merciless to face Ysak, though he kept the hyper impulse cannons pointed at the Grand Buster. He could not believe his eyes... he must be hallucinating again. Funny, usually he enjoyed the waking dreams. But this one didn't have any naked girls or big huge explosions in it. Just a mobile suit he'd already destroyed, and the voice of a man who was already dead at Cray's hands. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, but when he looked again, the apparaition was still there. "You are dead. Stay dead. Why won't you stay dead?" Cray demanded.

"Why don't you kill me? Maybe then I will." Ysak taunted. He flung his arms wide. "I'm waiting, Cray. Or are you afraid?" This proved to be the statement that did the trick. Ignoring the defeated Grand Buster, swearing violently as pressure started to build up in his head again, Cray swung the Merciless around to face fully toward the Duelist.

"I killed him... didn't I? I remember killing... can I trust my memories? I remember... do I? Did I? I did. Didn't I? He's dead... I killed him. I buried him! But he's here... I can't have killed... no, that doesn't make sense! It doesn't make sense. NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE! THE WORLD IS GOING CRAZY!" Cray shouted and then screamed, caught in a fit as the pressure in his head built to a point where it felt like his mind was expanding outwards through his skull while the skull itself shrunk to the size of a pinhead. He frothed and foamed at the mouth as he experienced a mental hiccup, a breakdown of sorts as his mind, already stressed by the gaps he'd found in his memories, was pushed over an edge by the reappearance of a person he'd been completely sure was dead. His eyes rolled back in his head as he twitched and spasmed so hard he snapped his own restraints and smashed several screens, gashing his hands wide open on the sharp glass. The fit only lasted a second or two, and then his instinctual overrides kicked back in and he regained a modicrum of self control. His higher mind was fighting a war with itself... it hurt. A lot. The best way to relieve the pain was to kill something. Preferrably the unaccountably annoying mobile suit hovering in midair a medium distance away.

Dearka wasted no time... the moment the Merciless pulled its weapons away from him, he pushed the Grand Buster into a backwards dive-fall, before igniting his thrusters and screaming away at barely above ground level, his feet actually trailing sparks from where they grazed the ground. He left his weapons where they lay...he could come back and retrieve them later... right now all the mattered was getting safe. "I think you said something that may have offended him." Dearka said wryly, trying to hide the relief in his voice at seeing Ysak alive again.

"Maybe just a little." Ysak allowed. "Guess that's one more you owe me. I saved your ass that time."

"One more? Don't you mean one? Hell, I'm not even sure we're even... I saved your ass a whole bunch of times recently." Dearka argued.

"That was to repay me covering you at Jachin Due. And plus, I also saved Miriallia, lest you forget. Are you going to say that that doesn't count double?"

"Let's not even drag the girls into this. This is man business." Dearka retorted.

"Thank you Ysak. We're both glad you're alive. Very glad. That's what Dearka meant to say." Miriallia sighed. She waited a moment. "But according to my tally, you still owe us one, for earlier today."

"Always have to have the last word. Why are girls like that?" Ysak groused. A low, animal growling came over the general comm line. "Hmm, might be something to what you said, Dearka. He sounds mad." The growling exploded into a wild keening shriek, the sound of a predator leaping onto its prey. The Merciless swayed backwards as Cray cut loose with all his remaining weapons again and again, not so much squeezing the triggers as just holding them all down in white knuckled fists, an action that sent fresh rivers of rapidly crusting blood pouring along the control surfaces of his cockpit. He was beyond the point of aiming... he knew where he wanted his attacks to go, and thats where they went. He wanted to see the blue and grey and white mobile suit disappear in a cloud of pleasing explosions... but he didn't get want he wanted.

Ysak swooped into a long low dive, skimming underneath the tide of munitions and beam fire washing through the sky toward him. Cray swung his weapons down lower, but by then Ysak had diverted down a side street, putting an entire city block of buildings between him and Cray. A city block that rapidly ceased to exist as Cray walked his fire into and through it, trying to keep his aim on the object of his hatred. In truth the BCPU was beyond the point of being able to even really see the buildings and any other obstacles between him and the object that was causing him so much pain. Unable to jump into the air to get a better view of the battlefield, Cray instead took slow, shaky steps forward, armor plates shrieking and buckling with every ponderous step as the strain of not only supporting the Merciless's weight but the stresses of absorbing the combined continuous recoils of all its weapons started to take their toll on the damaged leg units. Still, Cray almost seemed to will strength into his machine and it held together as he advanced, slow and sure as the grim reaper himself.

Dearka abruptly reversed his flight, arcing up into a long, slow loop, bringing the Grand Buster up and around and then back towards the fight. Cray was utterly ignoring the Grand Buster, concentrating all his considerable anger on killing Ysak, who was staying barely ahead of the sure death that was the weapons fire of the Merciless. Still, Dearka took no chances, swinging around twice and always moving as he retrieved his weapons. He holstered the hyper impulse cannon and the shotgun and cradled the Earthshaker carefully in his hands. He circled and chose his spot before settling down into a cleared area, a park about a mile away from where Cray was doing his walking-world war impression. "How about you target this time... my aim seems to be slightly off today." Dearka said with a smile.

"Uh..." Miriallia paused. "Okay. You handle the stabilization, I'll do the trajectory. And I'm pulling the trigger."

"On it." Dearka replied, pulling his keyboards down onto his lap. "See if you can't keep him in that razed city block, Ysak. You'll have artillery support here in about fifteen seconds. Think you can go that long without getting buried under a building?"

"Funny man. So funny I'm sure I'll laugh sometime. Probably once I get my hands around your throat." Ysak shot back. "Don't worry about me... I..."

"Have him right where you want him, yeah." Miriallia cut in. "Goddamn it, why do you guys always have to act so tough?"

"Who's acting?" Dearka said with a big smile. "We've had this all planned from the beginning. The whole thing. Buildings and all."

"True that."

"You're both impossible. Where's Katie when I need her to knock some sense into you two?"

"Hold on a second, he's getting creative." Ysak cut off the comm channel as Cray split his river of fire into two streams, one in front of Ysak and the other behind. Cray slowly began closing the gap, not moving fast enough for Ysak to attempt a sideslip dodge or other action that would cause him to overshoot, but not moving so slow that Ysak could just sit there and let it happen either. He had his head in the jaws of a steel trap, and those jaws were closing. He needed to do something special here in the next ten seconds or so or he was going to be in trouble again. As things turned out, he didn't even need to use the chancy aerial maneuver he was considering. With a good fifteen meters of space on both sides to spare, suddenly Cray's fire slackened and died off. "Umm... okay. What's that loopy fucker up to now?" Ysak wondered.

Miriallia's eyes darted to her secondary screens, the ones she'd set up to monitor the Merciless's weapon systems. Her link to the Duelist had been severed when the buildings had fallen on it, but she knew what she'd be seeing if she could see the giant mobile suit. Smoke and steam flooding from the cannon barrels and missile tubes, the gatling cannons still spinning at speed even though no shells spouted from the muzzles. An unaccustomed predatory grin spread across her face. "Ammunition levels read zero on the shoulder 120mm gatling cannons one through four. His shotgun is out of reloads. His missile launchers have no more missiles. His CIWS is empty. He's just bled himself dry of every munition based weapon he has. He's still got the hyper impulse cannons and the torso beam guns, but those all read in the upper red limits of heat... he's overheating them and they're close to shutdown. We've got him on the ropes. He's right where we want... him..." she trailed off, recognizing that she sounded exactly like Ysak. _Damnit, he's going to be insufferable about that._

Cray did not know why the Merciless had suddenly betrayed him... it wasn't firing, even though his fingers were still pressing the triggers. The weapons weren't firing. "The world really is crazy. Nothing is what it should be." he complained. His energy weapons were still working just fine it seemed and while they didn't make the pretty boom-booms of the guns, he supposed he could make do. "Doc... please fix the world for me. It's broken."

"It's time for a reckoning." Ysak corkscrewed the Duelist through the air, changing from an evasive pattern to an attack stance, moving in towards the Merciless from an oblique angle, favoring the left side, where the shotgun was, so that Cray would have to turn the entire mobile suit to bring all his weapons to bear against him. The shotgun and two of the shoulder gatlings swung over to face him, but nothing except for wisps of smoke and hot gasses expelled from their now impotent barrels. He could see the slide on the shotgun clicking back and forth and could imagine the hissing whine of the gatlings spinning aimlessly. "Going to need more than harsh language and ill wishes to hurt me now, Cray." Ysak scolded. His left hand beam saber took the shotgun, cutting the weapon cleanly in half lengthwise, the furious red edge of the beam sword even splitting the Merciless's hand into equal parts as Ysak screamed by, his right hand sword slicing up high, severing the shoulder gatlings on that side and leaving a deep smoking notch in the Merciless's left shoulder which spat sparks and leaked flaming oil like blood. He rocketed past the Merciless, passing behind and beyond his foe before inverting his flight path, committing a barrel roll in midair almost casually, evading the hyper impulse cannon blasts which disappeared fruitlessly into the afternoon sky.

"Ware artillery!" Miriallia announced, completing her trajectory calculations. The reinforced support struts popped out again and drilled down through the soft soil of the park to anchor deep in the hard volcanic rock below. The Earthshaker barrel swung around and slightly upwards, barely a few degrees to account for the relatively short range. She couched the heavy weapon carfeully against the side of the Grand Buster and shifted position in her seat. This was her first time firing the main weapon of the Grand Buster, though she'd helped fire it many times. "This is for all the nightmares, Cray." she just gently tapped her triggers, riding out the massive recoil calmly,unaware of the tears dripping from her eyes. Dearka wasted no time in retaking control of the Grand Buster, securing the support struts and holstering the Earthshaker on its back mounts, bringing out the other two weapons once more.

"I've got it from here, Mir." he told her. She did not reply, just nodding her head once. Dearka had just lifted off in preparation for beginning his own attack run when the Earthshaker shell came down. Miriallia's aim was not really any better than Dearka's own. She too had been trying to hit the Merciless directly, but her calculations had been off as well. Not by much, but with a weapon as inherently inaccurate as the Earthshaker, even a little bit was actually a lot. Instead of striking the Merciless on its side, her shell undershot, striking short on the left side, about twenty meters short of the Merciless. Nonetheless, the staggering power of the Earthshaker compensated for the near miss, the explosion throwing up a wall of debris, dirt and compressed air that struck the Merciless like a titantic sledgehammer, actually lifting the machine slightly and shifting it about ten meters to the right before letting it slam back down hard enough to freeze the overworn joints of the right leg, causing the leg to freeze into place. The Merciless could still move, but only at an extremely slow pace as it limped around with one leg permanently straight.

Dearka came in from the left, Ysak came in from the right. Dearka held his fire until the last moment, unwilling to risk missing even a massive target like the Merciless, when a miss could mean hitting Ysak. Cray's desperate beam cannon and hyper impulse cannon shots went wild, tearing up more city scape but not even slightly dissuading the two prey turned predators bearing down on him. Dearka passed behind the Merciless while Ysak mirrored his position on the front side. Dearka's hyper impulse cannon shot carved into the left shoulder of the Merciless, severing that arm in a brilliant white flash and baring a large section of the Merciless's internal structures on that side. His anti-armor shotgun blast and missiles carved into the buckled and broken armor plates on the Merciless's left leg, shattering the ruptured Phase Shift armor, blowing whole plates off, the invulnerable sections still intact even as the bolts and connections holding it on the leg gave way. The left leg also froze up because of this attack, leaving the Merciless unable to move, tottering on the edge of balance. Almost as an afterthought, Dearka's beam cannons bored two neat red-white glowing holes through the back of the Merciless's head, exploding out the front in a shower of molten glass and electronic components as the head imploded from the heat stress.

Ysak, on the other side, used his beam sabers much like the first run, the leading hand hacking through the hyper impulse cannons, leaving the sparking larger half of the weapon gripped tightly in the Merciless's hand while the front third of the barrels clanged to the ground at the Merciless's feet, edges running liquid with heat. The trailing hand saber again took the shoulder gatling cannons and deeply wounded the right shoulder, shearing through several vital systems, including the power linkages to the Citadel array, rendering the great defensive mechanism inoperable. Greenish-white bolts of electricity discharged furiously from the severed linkages, causing internal fires and further electrical shorts throughout the right side of the Merciless. The overheated and suddenly damaged hyper impulse cannons reached a critical moment a second and a half after Ysak and Dearka completed their attack runs, the weapon glowing with blue and red light from within before its capacitors catastrophically overloaded, causing the weapon to exploded violently enough to utterly disintegrate itself along with the lower two thirds of the Merciless's right arm. Armless, legs locked, Cray had only his torso beam cannons left to him, and he could only fire them straight ahead, at nothing. He did so anyway, just because he had no idea what else to do.

In truth, Cray was already pretty far gone. His mobile suit was dying around him... and his mind was dying with it. Well, maybe not his mind, but his personality. He reverted to a more and more childlike state with each grievous wound the Merciless suffered, his damaged and oft re-written pysche unable to cope with the looming certainty of defeat and death. By the time he'd lost both arms, he was crying for his father... the Doc or his real father, he wasn't sure which. Just some grown up person... someone to make sense of the disordered world. Someone to calm the craziness and restore things to the way they were supposed to be. He smelled an animal stink permeating the cockpit and the few scraps of his higher mind and persona realized that he'd voided himself... bowel control abandoning him in fear. He stared unseeing at his blood covered and wound ravaged hands as the Duelist and the Grand Buster circled around, reversing their attack pattern so Ysak would sweep by the back while Dearka hit the front. "Help me. Help me? Help me! HELP ME!?" Cray suddenly cried, slamming his hands fruitlessly against the armored walls of his cockpit. "HELP ME! I'M GONNA DIE! I'M GONNA DIE! DOC, SAVE ME! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO DIE!" he managed only to hit the cockpit release mechanism, lowering the armored shields that allowed access into and out of the cockpit. Unfortunately, he was beyond the point of seeing the outside world... he could see the armored walls hemming him in... burning metal fingers reaching out of the walls to hold him quivering in his seat.

Dearka noticed how the Merciless suddenly wasn't firing any more, but he did not halt his attack run. Even if Cray was trying to surrender... Dearka thought of the hospital, only a few blocks away, and the office buildings, and the cars... no, there would be no surrender here. Not to mention all the other horrible things Cray had ever done to Dearka, Miriallia, Kira, Athrun, Lacus, Cagalli and especially to Ysak and Katie. This was the end... the final end. Dearka's shotgun blast speared deep into the right side of the Merciless, the shells slipping through the gaping rent in the armor that Ysak's beam saber had inflicted seconds before. Huge sections of the Merciless bloated up and blew out in plumes of fire and wreckage as its internal structures were blasted to pieces, pieces which set everything around them on fire. Within seconds of the first explosion a gargantuan cloud of midnight black smoke burst from the wounds of the Merciless, from all the burning oils, fluids and wire insulation inside. Smoke was even pouring out of the cockpit, while hungry flames licked at various control consoles and even the pilot's chair itself. Dearka caught a brief glimpse of what might have been Cray sitting hunched up in the pilots chair, but he was moving too fast to be sure. His hyper impulse cannon struck the Merciless in the middle of its groin, disintegrating the Phase Shift armor like it was hardly there before almost cutting the Merciless in half, though it somehow remained standing even though there were no longer any major connections between its torso and legs.

It fell to Ysak, perhaps appropriately, to adminster the finish blows. Seeing the state of the Merciless, he slowed from his headlong charge, landing almost daintily directly behind the great smoke belching mass of standing wreckage that the Merciless had become. Ysak watched carefully, but Cray did not leave the cockpit, nor did he scream or rant over the comm or external speakers. This silence seemed odd at first, but then Ysak considered how badly damaged the Merciless was... most of its systems probably had already shut down or were destroyed and Cray himself was likely only slightly more healthy than his machine. He might have already died, consumed by the fire growing in the cockpit, but Ysak hoped not. Burning to death was too ordinary a death for Cray... Ysak needed to add his own special flavoring first before he could walk away satisfied. He carefully consulted the diagrams of the Merciless that Miriallia had transferred into his computer on the flight into the city. He was only ever going to get one chance at this and he wanted to do it right. The Duelist stepped up behind the Merciless, both beam sabers held down low at his sides. In a sudden, almost jerky motion, he raised his right arm and stabbed forward and upwards, the beam penetrating the Merciless's lower back and spearing upwards at an angle. The left arm saber penetrated a meter or so to the left of the right sword, at a similar angle.

Cray never knew exactly what it was that hit him. He was quivering in his seat one moment, his legs tapping out a hanged man's dance on the floor of the cockpit when suddenly there was a blazing hiss and his legs stopped tapping. He didn't even feel the burning at first... not until he looked down and saw the twin beams of pinkish plasma energy that enveloped him from the waist down. Blood forced itself out of his mouth, but he ignored it, reaching down with one curious hand, awed at how his fingers cripsed and flashed away into smoke by just touching the pink stuff. Pink stuff. He thought of Frost and smiled. Pink. Pink. He hoped Frost got to see Pink like this. Alarms blared out of his single remaining control panel, which was already aflame as well. His reactors were overloading, melting down. He reached out a hand to disengage the saftey locks that would allow the machine to blow up in a massive nuclear fireball, but he never completed the motion. "Chanel... I've made my peace." Ysak whispered, unmindful and unashamed of the tears trickling down his face as he gripped both sabers tightly... and then ripped them laterally out of the Merciless, cutting the machine in half. He didn't stop there... both beams came back around and cut into the Merciless again and again, hacking away chunks and pieces until he finally noticed the huge heat spikes his close range sensors were picking up from the Merciless.

He reluctantly left off his butchering and retreated to a safe distance, never once taking his eyes off the Merciless as he circled around to face his foe from the front. There was something sitting... no, lying in the pilots chair. It might have been Cray... it was hard to tell because of the fiery inferno that filled the cockpit. Ysak locked his gaze onto it in the assumption that it was Cray. Slowly the Merciless toppled over backwards... but before it could fully fall, or the top half seperate fully from the bottom half, both of its nuclear reactors went into meltdown, pumping tens of thousands of degrees of heat into the husk of the Merciless... hot enough to cause Phase Shift armor itself to ignite in some places. The Merciless was consumed in a colossal fireball, a fireball that did not expand but instead clung to its exposed skeletal frame like flesh made of fire before the Merciless struck the ground and exploded with the force of several Earthshaker shells, turning into a thousand burning pieces. Ysak stood and watched the fire, Dearka standing a few steps behind him, for a long time. Finally though, the flames started to die down and Ysak turned the Duelist away. "I think I need someone to hold me." Ysak announced softly. "I could really use a hug right now."

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"Are you sure about this?" The man with the dark wraparound sunglasses said, looking out at the destroyed city. The mobile suit battle had died off about a half hour ago, and he and his companion had left their temporary shelter, hiding in the basement of a parking garage, fifteen minutes prior. "This is a disaster. A terrible, reprehensible catastrophe."

"It's just a destroyed city. Kinda reminds me of JOSH-A, after the cyclops." the driver of the dark green luxury SUV replied casually. The man with the sunglasses turned his head slightly to glance at his companion. As always, he found it difficult to hook his attention on any one part of his companion. The man was just average... average average. In all respects. Not tall or short, fat or thin, brownish-blondish hair, paleish-tannish skin, medium build... he could have been a native of any one of a hundred nations. Of course, that was a major factor in how this man operated. He never stood out... because to stand out was to be recognized or seen... and to be recogonized or seen was to be dead. Traitors, cowards and mutineers did not have long life expectancies. Personally, the man in the sunglasses hated being around his companion, but because of the great mission they pursued together, he had no choice. When the boss said do something, he wasn't one to question. Not after all the boss had done for him. He could not help but look at his gloved hands, slightly clenched as always from the near constant pain of his seared skin, even though it had mostly been replaced with new flesh in the bosses's hospital. The memories would not let him be. But worse than the fire of the body was the fire that had burned his soul. She... she had betrayed him and the PLANTS. He could never forget that.

"You have no soul, Jean." the man in the sunglasses commented.

"Not unless you've got at least two fifty large to give me, yeah." Jean Dylan freely admitted. "I think I could manage something like a soul for that much."

"How is it such a mercenary bastard Natural like yourself could come to work for the Boss?"

"I know people. On both sides of the fence, you might say. Rau Le Cresuet was one of my big customers. Too bad about him... there was a man who knew how the world works." Jean sighed. "I just wish I'd spotted that MP earlier... bastard would have had a hard time reporting me from the bottom of the harbor."

"I can't believe I owe you my life." the man in the sunglasses said disgustedly.

"Don't you worry your head about it, Commander. You don't have anything I want, so I'm not likely to call in a favor soon."

"Don't call me that. I'm not in ZAFT anymore. I'm no Commander."

"Fine, whatever, Aireg. Please yourself. Sheesh, touchy Coordinator bastard." Jean turned his attention back to the road, concentrating on reaching the site his employer... and Aireg's employer, for that matter, had directed them to go to. Jean didn't know how the Boss... the big-little Boss, Noah... not the big-big Boss everyone thought Noah was... could get such precise information so quickly when his own network was still scrambling to find its ass with both hands. But he'd learned years before not to question the Boss. His info was his info and so far it had yet to be wrong. "There it is." Jean nodded his head at a section of destroyed city, almost indistinguishable from the ruins around it, except to the trained eye. "Not much left." Jean hawked and spat out the open car window as he pulled off the road onto the nearest intact sidewalk.

"I wouldn't expect there to be. I've seen the files the Boss has on those mobile suits... they don't exactly qualify for the "focus fire" awards." Aireg got out of the car, pulling a big heavy duffel bag behind him. He wasted no time in donning a heavy set of fire-fighting clothing, designed to resist high temepatures for a short period of time. Jean was doing similarly on the other side of the car. Both men put on heavy hard hat helmets with clear plasti-glass face shields. As a final touch they pulled on heavy gloves and screwed tiny radios into the sides of their helmets. "Comm check." Aireg said slowly and clearly.

"Screw off, military man." Jean replied. "Let's get this done and over with. I'm kinda persona non grata round these parts... lots of old enemies, if you know what I mean."

"I can't imagine why that would be." Aireg took a metallic pole out of the back of the SUV while Jean attached a video camera to his helmet and ran a cord from it to his cell phone. He flicked on the cell phone and turn it to speakerphone, then hit a speed dial and activated the video camera.

"Can you see alright, Boss?" Jean asked.

"Well enough." the slightly distorted voice of a forty something male replied. "You should find the wreckage you're looking for approximately fifty meters north and west of your current position." Aireg looked at Jean, who shrugged... neither of them knew how the Boss could be so precise, considering he was looking at the footage through a video link that extended back to their main base, several hundred thousand miles away. Aireg went first, probing the rubble with his pole to make it was safe, looking at a temperature instrument mounted to the top to make sure they didn't inadvertently stumble onto some superheated wreckage.

"Hard to believe these were all from one mobile suit, eh?" Jean commented about five minutes later, as they appraoched their goal, a mass of half molten metal that had fused itself to the ground. The heat was intense in this area, both men were sweating freely under their protective clothing. It had to be at least one hundred seventy degrees F in the open, and they were still ten meters away from where they would have to go.

"Not really. Blue Cosmos built this mobile suit to be the second largest mobile suit ever constructed. Thirty meters tall, three hundred tons, two nuclear reactors... which reminds me, both of you will need to undergo a rad cleansing after you get back, you're both probably getting a fairly serious dose right now... they built the thing to last. And now that it's not, well, is it really surprising that something that big left a big mess?" the Boss replied instantly.

"You're not serious about that radiation thing, are you Boss?" Jean said nervously. "Dunno about the commander here, but I'd like to have kids some day."

"Somehow I find it unlikely that that will ever occur." Aireg rumbled.

"Why the fuck do you say that?" Jean snapped.

"Relationships require trust... a traitor like you would find it hard, I think, to trust. Especially someone close to you."

"Fuck off, bastard. What would a Coordinator know about shit like that anyway... breed you guys in test tubes anyways."

"Careful, Jean... Aireg has an even temper... thats not true of all of us." The Boss said sharply. Jean gulped and shut up, remaining quiet as they poked closer. Aireg finally touched his pole to the metal side of the metal mass. The temperature was a steady seven hundred degrees F.

"Nothing could be alive in there... its hotter than an oven." Aireg said.

"Don't underestimate the resiliency of the Blue Cosmos creations." the Boss retorted. "There is a seventy four point seven percent chance the pilot survived the destruction of his mobile suit. Even now, almost three quarters of an hour later, there's still a greater than fifty percent chance the pilot is alive. He would be a perfect recruit for the project... his superiors have abandoned him... his mobile suit has been destroyed... he's nothing but malleable clay and I want him. I want to see inside." the Boss demanded. It took them about fifteen minutes more... they were really starting to feel the effects of the heat by the time they had shifted enough rubble over to provide a means to walk across the metal so they could access the remains of the cockpit. Aireg estimated they had about ten more minutes before their heat insulation started to fail... unconsciousness and death would rapidly follow in the killing heat. He was something of an expert on heat... desert heat... fire heat... heat was his thing. Still he made no mention of turning back... the Boss had saved his life and he'd sworn to repay that debt no matter the cost... especially since the Boss was also going to help him enact his revenge... eventually.

"Yeerrg!" Jean gasped, as they looked down into the fire ravaged cockpit. "Tough way to go." the object of his disgust was the thin bodied human upper torso that lay in the seat, scorched almost to the bone. The body had nothing to it below the middle of the stomach and everything above that point was completely covered in third degree or worse burns. Blackened bone was visible on the skull and facial areas, along with several ribs, revealing burn scarred internal organs inside. The interior of the cockpit had to be at least three hundred fifty degrees.

"Poke him." the Boss commanded. Jean and Aireg exchanged another glance. Aireg shrugged again and lightly jabbed the corpse with his staff, expecting it to crumble at the touch. It did not. In fact,the corpse twitched... he thought he'd touched a nerve or something that had somehow miraculously survived the heat, but when he removed the staff the body continued to twitch. Impossible as it seemed, there was still life of sort in the ruined body... even though all its features had been seared away, its skin was damaged beyond repair and it was missing its lower half. Blue Comos did build them tough. Aireg was impressed.

"It's alive?" Jean said, aghast.

"He's alive enough." the Boss replied. "All we really need is his brain... assuming we can keep that alive, then we'll have our third recruit into the project, after you two."

"Gee, hope I don't have to drive him around too... people might start saying stuff." Jean joked. "Not exactly Miss Orb, is he?"

"I wasn't all that pretty either, when you pulled me from the burning wreckage of my Grendel." Aireg noted, using his staff to roll the half-cadaver closer, to where the could reach down and grab it tenatively with his gloved hand around one arm. He expected the limb to come right off... overcooked meat came apart easily, after all. But the limb was still solid under its burn coating... it fully supported the weight of the cadaver-body as Aireg lifted the barely alive Cray Thresher out of the cockpit that should have been his tomb. Six minutes later Cray had been wrapped in several sterile bags with an oxygen mask over his entire head and given a shot to sedate him, though it had had little noticable effect on the still twitching body. They were just loading him into the back of the SUV when Jean suddenly spun, hand going to the pistol holstered at his back. Aireg turned as well looking for what had surprised his companion. He narrowed his light sensitive eyes as a stray beam of sunlight sneaked over his sunglasses... his eyes were the one part of him that had not fully recovered from the fire... in normal sunlight he was blind, thus the glasses.

A girl... young woman really, was walking towards them from up the street, where several large buildings looked to have collapsed during the fighting. Her clothes had been burned off her, and her body had been abused quite terribly by both heat and injury. She'd plainly once been a very attractive person... now her body was torn and broken, she limped forward on an obviously broken leg, her legs and arms covered in blood, her fingers scratched down to the bones, scorched black at the tips from where she'd clawed at some hot but unyielding surface for a long time. More blood trailed down her face like tears. Her eyes were empty and cold, like voids in her face. She'd once had hair, but it had gone the way of her clothes, burned off by fire. But the worst thing was the burned, fused mass that was her throat... glistening wetly with fresher blood it looked to Noah, back on the PLANTS, that her windpipe and trachea had fused from some extreme heat and she'd cut her own throat open with a scapel or other sharp instrument to clear the airway, before burning closed the wound to prevent herself from bleeding to death. She made a whistling, croaking sound when she saw the two men.

"Go away. You're not going to get help here." Jean pointed his pistol at the woman. Aireg did nothing... this poor waif would probably be best served by a bullet to the head... he could see the insanity buning in her mind just by looking into her empty eyes. Her trauma had overwhelmed her, it was easy to see. The woman did not respond as expected. She did not run... she just fell to her knees and started clawing at her face, leaving new tears of blood on her cheeks. She did that... and then she screamed. It was the most terrible, heart rending cry Aireg had ever heard... a wavering shriek of hate and pain and suffering that cut right through him and left him gasping on the ground, his ears ringing.

"Intriuging." the Boss said dryly. "We may have just found a fourth recruit. Bring her as well."

"But Boss... its going to be hard enough getting cadaver man out of the nation..." Jean started to protest.

"I don't recall a clause in your contract with me that included giving me advice." Noah retorted coldly. "Bring her to me. That is all. You have your orders."

"Yes, sir, Boss, sir." Jean said sarcastically, throwing his helmet off in disguist and turning off the cell phone. "All right, girly girl... lets do this nice and easy... you come with us, everyone goes away happy, yes?" he slowly held out his hands, palms up and nonthreatening, towards Mary O'Brien.

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Author note: I hope this satisfied those people who wished Ysak to get his revenge on Cray. Yes, Cray is not dead... but can you really say that what he is, is that much better? Personally, I'd rather be dead than just horribly mutilated, burned beyond recognition, no legs or lower body, blind, deaf, mute and insensate for the rest of my life. Like Noah said... he's alive enough... that doesn't mean he's going to come back. Even BCPU can't recover from some injuries. In any case, this last little scene is set up for the next story... so both pay attention but don't worry about it too much. For those of you who haven't realized it, replaced chapter 2, which had formerly included a list of all my Gundams and vehicles, with a less spoilerish list of all my characters. Well, most all my characters, except for the ones that would be spoilers with just their names. Should check that out, my long term readers. Hope you enjoyed this fight, it was and will be the biggest fight for a while, between the underground and aboveground sections. Much more to come and it only gets more suspenseful as it goes.


	77. The Morning After

The day of the protest would go down in Orb... and indeed World... history. Orb gave the date, May 17, CE 73 and called it Purgatory Day, the day when Orb purged itself of the deceit and injustice that it had allowed to permeate its borders. The events that occured on Purgatory Day would be felt for years and years to come... the mass public outcry over the PLANTS and EA was probably the least powerful reprecussion, in the greater scheme of things, and national governments swayed and even collapsed under that tide of public anger. The death toll amongst the peace marchers was never fully confirmed, but most estimates agreed that the number was likely in the hundreds of thousands killed by the Merciless and the destruction it had caused alone, with tens of thousands more killed by panic symptoms... trampled to death, crushed by fleeing cars, drowning in the ocean, suffocating under drifts of people that built up whenever a street ended in a destroyed building or fire and flight was no longer possible in that direction. The casualties were not concentrated amongst the people of any one nation... there had been tens of thousands of people from almost every nation on Earth present at the peace march, along with of course the population of the city itself and the Orb protestors. Because of this, the sadness of grief and loss was universal as well... no country could sit back and say "whew... glad we didn't lose anybody.".

The population of the EA had shown that it could ignore the messy details of the war quite well. This was not a phenomenon peculiar to them... as a whole throughout history, the general population of any major nation at war is able to ignore the horrible acts and even atrocities that are committed in the name of winning that war, just because they only hear about them second or third hand, reading newspapers or watching TV. So far during this war the EA had already ignored the disaster at Carpentaria, which had a far higher death toll than Purgatory Day. But there was a difference... Carpentaria and the Oceania Union were the "enemy" and it was a "war" so they "deserved" what they got. It was the way of war propoganda... the enemy always "deserved" what they got. Orb was a part of the EA at the time... and it had been cruelly attacked by the EA forces stationed there, using mobile suits and soldiers to attack innocent, helpless men, women and children live on world-wide TV. It was like getting stabbed in the back by your own best friend... the pain of the wound was far less than the pain of the betrayal itself. Much as the PLANTS had experienced after the end of the previous war, when the purpose of the GENESIS space laser was made public knowledge, there was a colossal public outcry and lashback against the EA military. Nobody wanted to send their sons and daughters, husbands, wives or grandchildren off to fight for a regime that would order the massacre of hundreds of thousands of helpless and unarmed and peaceful people, merely excerising their constitutional rights to express themselves nonviolently.

Many wondered if the EA was now going to declare world wide martial law, so that it could enforce its mandates upon the people using its newly preferred tactics of strong arm intimidation and public massacre. The people wondering this were not Orbites or Coordinators... no, the people who were worried now were the general populace of the EA itself. They demanded answers from their governments. Why were they part of a system that used force against the helpless people of its own nations, excercising the principles of might makes right while preaching the ideals of enlightened democracy? Regional leaders in turn confronted National leaders with these questions, plus righteous indignation of their own. How were they supposed to deny their own populaces, especially when they felt the same way? National leadership panicked, especially those of the major nations that were active supporters of Blue Cosmos and knew that they had tacitly sanctioned the use of the Merciless, just because they had appointed Cervantes Zunnichi to oversee the war from behind the scenes. If it came out that they had allowed the massacre to happen because they set a madman in control of the EA military... well, it didn't take a political analyst to tell them that their careers would be over. Maybe their lives too, given the current public mood. The search for a scapegoat was frantic. Unfortunately for them, this was only the beginning of the problems they were to face over the coming days and weeks.

The Earth Alliance leadership had been forced to evacuate from Orb only hours after the Merciless was destroyed. The initial result of the attack by the Merciless had of course been panic, but after a few hours, when everyone had gotten the fear and panic out of their systems... something had to fill the emotional gap. That something was anger. They had been attacked... cruelly, maliciously attacked without warning or pity, by a corrupt and violent government regime none of them supported and only few of them remembered voting for. The peace march itself had been a wonder of nonviolent public protestation... the riots that followed hours afterward, when people fully began to realize what had happened to them were at the opposite end of the scale. They weren't just random acts of destruction though... the public works and buildings and shops of Orb were spared. The anger of the millions strong mobs was directed at only a few highly visible targets... mainly any place that harbored a large concentration of EA soldiers or administrators. The acts of public revenge that took place would haunt the minds and memories of many for the rest of their lives... few could later justify the way they had acted then... helpless and innocent low level administrators were hunted down and beaten to death by mobs of neighbors and friends... soldiers who'd not fired a single shot in anger were torn apart by hundreds strong gangs of people that charged their squads or companies heedless of warning shots and tear gas. To wear a uniform that didn't belong to the Orb National Military rapidly became a public death sentence.

Protest leadership struggled mightily to retain control of their protestors, but their words were dust in the wind against the mighty storm of fear and revenge that had enveloped the city. There was no way a few hundred people who had an idea of the larger picture could control millions of panicked, enraged and grieving people, hell bent on communicating their problems to the nearest symbol of EA authority in the most direct manner possible. The EA itself did what it could to protect its people and contain the riots, but with all the senior leadership fleeing like rats deserting a sinking ship, morale wasn't exactly at a fever pitch. You can watch only so many executive level directors and staff showing up to private airports in armored limosines with police escorts to board private jets that carried maybe one or two families at most at a time while your fellow soldiers were lynched in the streets of the city with orders to advance and control the crowds before you lost your desire to follow your orders very thoroughly. When the mobile suit regiments were given orders to move into the city to lay down the law, they flat out refused. They didn't cite mechanical problems, or personnel issues... they refused. Word of this "mutiny" spread rapidly through the thousands of EA soldiers recuperating in Orb after the disaster at Carpentaria. Entire divisions suddenly just stood down in their bases, stationing watches to ensure they weren't attacked by angry citizens, but other than that they sat tight, ignoring increasingly frantic orders from the senior officials fleeing the country.

World wide, the scattered forces of the Orb Military boarded their ships and stood ready at battle stations as they left their assigned battle groups and theatre bases, all heading back to Orb. It wasn't exactly a coordinated effort, but neither did a single Orb vessel or unit remain in the positions they had been ordered to station themselves at by the EA command. Few units tried to stop them from leaving... soldiers across the EA were sick at heart, just as sick at heart as their civilian counterparts at seeing the massacre. Contrary to popular belief, a soldier doesn't usually enjoy killing people... most people did not join a military to kill people. They joined to protect people... family, loved ones, friends... from being killed or threatened. It takes a thankfully rare sort of cold hearted bastard to enjoy killing the helpless... and even amongst soldiers people like that are extremely rare. Those units which did try and stop the "desertion" of the Orb forces were brushed aside in a matter of hours by the technologically superior and HIGHLY motivated Orb forces. One on one, the transformable technologic strength of the Gundam based M-4 Guardian far exceeded the much more mass produced capabilities of the Strike Dagger or even Strike Crusader. Within two days, the far scattered Orb military had almost entirely returned to their home nation, willing and able to lend their support to the new government that was being established there.

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Having escaped from the underground rail junction when the explosion of the Merciless finally collapsed the roof, which had been weakened by the shocks of the mobile suit battle on the surface, Lacus, Cagalli and everyone else found themselves almost alone in the government district. The Hellhounds, Asmodeus and Frost were nowhere to be seen... though they could not know it, their enemies had been amongst the first to evacuate the nation, called back to escort Cervantes away when the Merciless fell. He didn't particularly feel like staying around to be crucified by the howling masses, and leaving the Fury to be salvaged wasn't exactly an option either... he only had one BCPU left and without a mobile suit, he wouldn't be able to use Frost to the fullest. Cervantes left Orb quietly, with none of the bombast of his entrance to the nation, in a private shuttle escorted by the Purifier and the Fury. Cagalli was quick to lead her friends to the executive and parlimentary office buildings at the heart of the government district. It was not an easy journey for any of them... the streets were littered with the debris and deritus of Cray's attack on the area... rubble and wreckage was everywhere. But worse than the stone and steel wreckage was the human wreckage. The primary weapon systems of a mobile suit were not designed to be used against soft targets like normal infantry or civilians... shells that were designed to destroy tanks or mobile suits in one shot were extreme overkill when used against people. There was actually less blood and gore than some might have expected... just because the heat of the shell explosions or beams tended to vaporize bodies, with the only bleeding wounds and deaths being suffered by those far enough away to be killed by flying shrapnel. But even so, they passed thousands of bodies, young and old, man and woman, whole and scattered.

When they reached the government buildings they found them largely abandoned. Fires had been set in some rooms in an effort to destroy vital or confidential paperwork and documents that the EA felt could not be chanced falling into the hands of the common citizen. However, these fires were only haphazardly set, as the evacuation had hardly been the orderly and organized evolution it was designed to be. Entire rooms full of documents and data storage were untouched by the squads designated to destroy all incriminating evidence of what Blue Cosmos and the EA officials had been up to in Orb during their tenure as all but overlords. It wasn't to say that all the EA administrators were power abusing and corrupt... but most of the senior staff were close cronies and minions of Cervantes Zunnichi himself, brought in as personal favors or political currency. They weren't exactly the most... rule oriented... group of men and women. When they wanted something, they took it. If they couldn't take it, they passed laws that let them take it. There were few indeed that weren't in the pockets of various special interest groups, thus all the customs reductions, untaxed import/export agreements and waived tariffs that those companies and interests had enjoyed for the duration of the EA occupation. Worse than that though were the Blue Cosmos records, records that showed how Blue Cosmos members had been given free reign to discriminate against any Coordinators or Coordinator rights groups they found in Orb. But the major find, the find that would have world wide reprecussions, was finding one of Cervantes's personal computers, lying open and forgotten on his desk in his hurry to leave and meet up with Asmodeus and the Hellhounds.

The computer was of course encrypted and password protected, but when you had the combined intellects of Kira and Athrun working on the problem... it really wasn't that much of a problem. Blue Cosmos used some of the best security software available and Cervantes's computer had the best of the best. One re-written security program and about twenty minutes later, they had a wealth of EXTREMELY interesting information at their fingertips. Cervantes's computer was of course configured to access the main Blue Cosmos databanks at CWM headquarters and before site security noticed the recently called in lost computer looking through their system Athrun had managed to download several tens of gigabytes of information. He didn't have the time to really look for anything in specific... once he was in he just started grabbing and copying files as fast as the computer would download, starting with the files most often looked at. Unable to do anything to halt the fury of the riots outside, despite public addresses by both Lacus and Cagalli, they had nothing better to do while waiting out the storm of public revenge than look through the files. Saying they struck paydirt didn't even close to cover it.

Within the records Athrun had downloaded, plus the data already on the computer hard drive itself, was a lot of crap... CWM profit figures and personnel lists, production quotas and payroll documents. About ninety percent of all the information they had downloaded were things of that nature... items that had to do with running the massive corporate empire Cervantes was the head of. Some had to do with the daily tasks involved in managing and running Blue Cosmos, including a list of every major supporter and money contributor to the group, plus a list of all the people to whom Blue Cosmos donated money... often a lot more money than the rules of a nation allowed. Nobody was really surprised to find people in National leadership positions on both lists, but the length of both lists was shocking. Blue Cosmos was far more widespread than any of them had imagined... probably far more widespread than even most members of Blue Cosmos imagined. There wasn't a nation on Earth that didn't have someone highly placed in one or two government departments who was either a dues paying member or a bribe taking lackey of Blue Cosmos. More often than not, the presidents or rulers of the individual nations that made up the EA were on one or both of the lists, along with the corporate heads of almost every major Earth based corporation. One entire section of the list was devoted to the Generals and Admirals in the EA military forces that were active members of Blue Cosmos. Also included in the information was the location and approximate force strength of every major Blue Cosmos installation or base on Earth.

Of more immediate concern to the awed and aghast Coordinators and various others present were the records of the assassination missions against the known protest leaders that Cervantes had ordered during the days before the protest, recorded in minute detail by the Hellhound team leaders and presented in a AAR (after action report) format that was startling in its cold dryness. The Hellhounds had gone in and "removed" entire families of people in swift, completely unannounced raids that had caught the protest leaders sitting down at breakfast or dinner, or in their beds in the middle of the night or in one case helping their kids get dressed for school. There were no survivng witnesses... anyone who had been in the homes at the times of the raids were killed just as surely as the original targets were. The photos and video taken by the Hellhounds as proof of death, before they disposed of the bodies by incineration at a waste disposal facility, were enough to turn the stomachs of more than a few. Just about the only people able to look through the photos and especially the action-videos without having to avert their eyes once or twice were the members of TEMPEST, who had first hand experience in missions similar in scope to what they were looking at, though never against civilian targets. Cagalli immediately resolved to publish their find, to show the world again just what sort of men and women they were supporting by supporting the current EA leaders.

Finally came the personal bombshell, one that set Cagalli and Athrun back on their heels, stunned and unable to do more than stare. When Cervantes had learned of the circumstances of Cagalli's birth and her intimate relationship with Athrun from Sai, he'd immediately organized an operation to steal the photograph that proved she was not Uzumi's daughter. However, he'd been unable to actually get someone into the Orb National Hospital to steal some of Cagalli's blood to do a real gene test. Instead he'd had one fabricated by Blue Cosmos scientists and had that test published along with the photo in the public announcement that had caused so much trouble for Orb and the world. In the uproar caused by the photo and the video of Athrun and Cagalli having sex, no one had looked closely enough at the gene test to realize it was just a clever forgery. But now that they had this report, along with several hundred pages of recorded conversations between Cervantes and various members of Blue Cosmos, in which he elaborated in great detail about how they were going to use their data, both real and forged, to destabilize the peace process and help plunge the world into war again. Even though the accusation that she was not Uzumi's daughter was in fact true, now that they had proof that the gene test was forged... well, a photo proved nothing, because photos were forged all the time.

"I'm not sure what I should do." Cagalli admitted after everyone had perused the documents. "On one hand, what Blue Cosmos said is fundamentally true... I'm not Uzumi's biological daughter and the Constitution of Orb precludes hereditary leadership positions from being passed down to adopted children. On the other, now that we have this document, we can show the world that the gene test was false, even though if they did a real one, it would be true."

"Obviously Lord Nara Attha was aware that he wasn't your biological father." Athrun pointed out. "That's probably why it was impossible for Cervantes to get someone to steal some of your banked blood... it's probably not even in the Orb National Hospital, its probably somewhere far more secure. It seems to me that he had already taken steps to ensure that people did not find out that you weren't his daughter, because of what that would do to Orb. No offense to the Orb Government, but none of the other royal family heirs are exactly Representative material, in my opinion."

"They do have their fair share of problems. More than their fair share, to be truthful. We've kept most of it under wraps... but that would be hard to do if they were Representative and in the public eye all the time." Kisaka allowed.

"Cagalli..." Kira said slowly. "Regardless of who our biological parents are... we never knew them. My parents and yours... they're the people we grew up with. Just because my genes aren't from my parents does not make me any less their son, or you any less Uzumi's daughter. If you're worried about living a lie by telling the people of Orb that you really are Uzumi Nara Attha's daughter... don't be. That's what I think anyway. As far as I'm concerned, you are his daughter and always have been."

"I think that this might be one of those times when it's better to bend the rules to acheive a good end, rather than follow them strictly and end up who knows where." Miriallia spoke up. "I'm a citizen of Orb... I know the rules of succession just like Cagalli does. But I don't know anyone better suited to being Representative than Cagalli. Kisaka is right... all four other houses... well, they supported Cervantes Zunnichi, lets just leave it at that. They're not all bad apples, but none of them are the sort of people to sacrifice themselves for the good of the nation and the world, like the Attha family."

"Lacus? Any advice from you?" Cagalli asked. Lacus looked at her and smiled, then shrugged.

"I'd say do what your heart tells you that you should do. People look up to me because I take a public stand on moral and ethical issues and do my best to help the world solve them. I'm a political figure, but I'm not a political person. I've never studied law or politics... I don't know whats right or wrong in this situation. It's never a good thing to lie to people, to make them think you're something you are not... but like Kira said, are you really lying to them? Are you not Uzumi's daughter? Are you not Cagalli Yula Attha, the Representative of Orb who has fought and bled and hurt to help Orb become a country the world can be proud of? I think you are... do you?"

"People are who they want to be, are what they make of themselves." Alkire said, his voice jerky and labored from the injuries he'd sustained fighting Cyprus. Though Cyprus had not managed to kill him, it hadn't exactly gone Alkire's way either. He privately felt that if Cyprus hadn't been distracted by the fact that Glory had been seriously injured that he probably would not have survived. Who'd have thought the Lieutenant of EFSOU had a heart after all? But even though he'd been in a perfect position to break Alkire's neck, he had hesitated when Glory was shot and Alkire had been able to break free of the stranglehold. The entire rest of the short lived fight, before the roof caved in and Alkire helped evacuate the kids and his surviving teammates, Cyrpus had seemed almost hesitant, as if distracted by some worry. This didn't prevent him from wiping the floor with Alkire's face, but it did seem to prevent him from pulling off a finishing blow. "Personally, I'd follow a national leader like Cagalli, regardless of who the fuck her parents are. At the moment Orb doesn't have a government... should you decide to get off your ass and fix that situation, I don't think too many people are going to be all that fussy about you leading Orb again."

"Alkire makes a good point." Waltfeld added, seated across the table from the TEMPEST members. He wasn't looking at anyone, but rather was studying the item he held gripped in his hand, turning it over and over before his eyes, not sure whether he should be reverent or disgusted. When Frost had killed Vladimir, he'd torn his mechanical arms off where they connected to the flesh and bone of his shoulders. The right arm had landed almost at Kisaka's feet and the Orb bodyguard had picked it up almost as an afterthought. After they'd reached a safe location after fleeing the collapsed subway junction, Kisaka had come over to Waltfeld and explained the matter of Vlad's death. Waltfeld wasn't sure how he felt... the man had been directly responsible for the deaths of many members of Waltfeld's family. But that had been years ago... and the man Andrew Waltfeld had promised himself he'd one day find and kill was not the Vladimir he'd met on board the Archangel. He held the arm Kisaka had given him and considered what Kisaka had said. "He wouldn't have wanted this to go to waste." Kisaka had said, his eyes pointedly looking at Waltfelds own empty right sleeve. There was still blood on the wire and mechanical connections that had secured the arm to Vlad's body, Waltfeld stared at the gory end again and again. This was a relic of a great man... a man who had sacrificed his life to save a young girl from a monster, who'd bled and died so that peace could have a chance. It was also the arm of a mass murderer and Kisaka had as much as said he felt Waltfeld should be the next man to use it. "Given what people have already given up to bring you this far, Yula Attha, I don't see how you can avoid becoming Representative again."

Cagalli looked down at the table for a few long moments. When she looked up again, her face had changed from the slightly hesitant, unsure expression she'd had pretty much ever since the Merciless had dropped out of the sky. "You're all right." now her face was steely with confidence and resolve. "I'm the Representative of Orb. I'm Lord Uzumi Nara Attha's daughter and now I can prove it. Its not going to be easy, but with the support of the people in this room and all the people of Orb, I'm sure I'll be able to manage. And as my first act as Representative, I'll tell you what we're going to do. Lacus, you are going to get on the PA system and please don't stop until the riots are under control. This is now my city again, and I'm not going to tolerate rioting... use your abilities if you have to, please. Ms. Ramius, Commander Waltfeld, I need you to work with Kisaka to contact the Archangel and the Kusanagi, as well as whatever Orb military forces you can get a hold of. We may have scared the EA off, but they've shown they're more than willing to use excessive force to do their job and Orb is fragile right now. We need a solid shield to protect us. Alkire, I need you and TEMPEST to go through these buildings from top to bottom... I don't want any surprises from EA assassins or troops left behind disrupting the government. I wouldn't put it past them to have hidden bombs all over the place here. Kira, you and Dr. Simmons work with the protest leaders to restore order and start getting the word out that Orb has a government again. And Athrun, you're coming with me."

"Coming where?" Athrun asked as people got up and started moving, not arguing their assigned tasks. They had all accepted Cagalli as the person in charge at the moment, after all.

"To the nearest populated chapel. We're getting married."

"NOW!?" He exclaimed, shocked. He looked out the window, at the ravaged and still burning in spots city. He looked back to see Cagalli march over to him and grab him by the wrist. "But..."

"Shaddup! No arguments about this, Athrun. We've waited far too long... I'm not going to let any Blue Cosmos or EA propoganda campaign strike at my government again just because I'm with you and we have sex out of wedlock. We ain't stopping the sex, so I guess that leaves us with getting wedded, doesn't it? The sooner the better." She pulled at his wrist hard enough to cause him to stumble a few paces forward, his face flushing when he saw everyone was still in the room, staring at them. "Come on, Athrun, work with me, or I swear to god, I will sap you on the skull and drag you behind me."

"Go Cagalli." Raine commented as Cagalli pulled the still surprised Athrun bodily out of the room, trying to mumble some sort of protest about it not being the appropriate time. "There's a girl with her priorities straight."

"This is going to be such a fucked up government with her in charge." Alkire added. "Not that I'm complaining... the world could use a few fucked up governments, the kind that play fast and loose and shoot from the hip to solve the serious issues, without getting bogged down in procedure and politics. I think we're going to see some changes around here... some good changes."

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By the dawn of the next day, the riots had been completely stopped, both because people were exhausted, emotionally wrung dry and because of the heavenly voice which resounded from every public announcing station in the city... a voice that spoke words of peace and forgiveness and hope, that urged calm and restraint, a voice which carried such vibrant emotion in it that even the most enraged or grief stricken rioter could not help but pause and listen to. It wasn't known until later the next day who exactly had been talking to the people of the city... because of her work that day and indeed much of that night, Lacus had acquired a new title, to go along with her role as The Songstress of Peace. She was also now referred to by the people who had been present on Purgatory Day as the Angel of Purgatory, the guiding light that had brought millions of people out of the darkness they had been driven into and restored them to humanity. People looked around themselves with new eyes and wept, seeing what they had almost been reduced to, suddenly ashamed of how they had allowed themselves to act. The early part of the day had been a masterpiece of the best parts of human emotion and humanity in general. The latter part of the day was the exact opposite, and many people experienced a second crisis as they recollected the baseness and ugliness they'd displayed while in the throes of the mob mentality that prevailed during the afternoon and night.

They searched for a ray of hope to cling to in their moments of crisis and they found one. At seven thirty one AM, May 18, CE 73... only hours before she turned eighteen... Cagalli Yula Attha, newly proclaimed Chief Representative of Orb... was married to Athrun Zala in the Hameya Cathedral, on the outskirts of the Government district. The service was small, partly because it was completely unannounced and partly because the city had yet to recover to the point where people could move freely enough to attend. It had taken her longer than she thought it would for Cagalli not only to find a pastor willing to perform the service, but to get all the proper legal documents drawn up in the middle of the night when almost everyone with an ounce of common sense was hiding at home or if not that, then out rioting in the streets. But she'd perservered, and with Athrun's help she'd even managed to find a set of uniforms that fit her to replace the ones that had been destroyed by the various battles underground. There hadn't been anyone around to look at her broken nose or other minor injuries, so it wasn't the most decorous of wedding ceremonies. Both the bride and groom were battered and bloody, their clothing singed and covered in brick dust... but the light and life in their eyes... that was something special, something that made their appearances inconsequential.

The pastor doing the ceremony had been hesitant at first, being burst into in the middle of getting dressed by a fiery blond haired girl waving a gun in one hand, with the other tightly around the wrist of a slightly lost and helpless looking guy with purplish hair, but once he'd recognized Cagalli he'd been more than happy to perform the ceremony, especially when Athrun showed him that they had somehow managed to acquire all the proper documentation. He'd shot Athrun a few disapproving looks once he learned who he was, but after Cagalli shoved her gun under his nose and told him that if he had a problem with Athrun, then she was going to have a problem with him, he kept his thoughts to himself. He stared out at the wedding party and told himself that this was certainly going to be the most unique wedding he'd ever performed. The massive cathedral was unlit, having lost power sometime during the mobile suit battle that had raged throughout the city the afternoon before. Morning sunlight trickled in hazily through the stained glass windows, filtered by the clouds of smoke and dust which still clogged the air outside. The cathedral was almost empty, with less than a dozen people witnessing the ceremony, and they were a villianous and rough looking bunch.

One man had only one arm and one eye, holding what looked like a black metal skeletal limb on his lap as he smiled cheerfully at the pastor. Other men and a women hefted dangerous looking assault rifles and other firearms, not quite pointing them at the pastor, but keeping them close at hand. One man even had a sword buckled at his waist. Both the bride and the groom wore guns as well, with the rather large and unfriendly looking man who was overseeing the whole deal looming behind the pastor's shoulder with a camera in hand to record the event. Kira was Athrun's best man, and Lacus the bridesmaid. The pastor recognized them both, having seen them on TV the day before. But they were a lot more battered and even bloody now, also covered in brick dust and looking like they were running on the dregs of an adrenaline high. Dearka, Miriallia, Ysak and Katie had also been informed of the wedding plans, and had managed to show up about thirty minutes prior, while the Archangel patrolled through the skies above the city. Ysak in particular looked terrible, withdrawn and pale, though his injuries were relatively minor. He walked with a stagger and only seemed to have been upright because of Katie's arms around him... but he'd managed a smile and a triumphant thumbs up when asked about Cray and the Merciless.

"... and I do declare you to be man and wife." the pastor finished up nervously. Wedding his head of state to a Coordinator he personally didn't much care for wasn't exactly what he'd imagined he'd be doing today, but he knew his job well enough to not let his personal feelings about a marriage affect his performance of the ceremony. He'd given plenty of marriages he knew would break up within a few years... but he didn't get that feeling from these two. There was really something there... a common bond that was stronger than almost any he had ever seen... something special. "You may kiss the bride."

The home recorded video of the wedding done by Kisaka was shipped out to every major Orb news channel within the next two hours, along with photocopies of the legal documents and marriage license, with Kisaka signing his permission as Cagalli's guardian, while Alkire masqueraded as a member of Athrun's family, signing a messy scrawl with an indecipherable first name and an almost picture perfect "Zala" at the end. Athrun didn't think his family... uncles, aunts and cousins, none of them very close... would mind his subterfuge at their expense. He doubted many would even notice. Along with the marriage video was a condensed version of the Blue Cosmos documents, with the details on the assassination missions and the frame job against Cagalli highlighted. Other video files and documents were sent to EA controlled news stations, but perhaps predictably, most of these were confiscated before they could be aired. Despite this, no one doubted the truth of the documents when they were displayed on the web sites of the Orb News stations, despite the vehement denials of EA officials, which only convinced many that the documents were true, rather than the opposite.

Cheering people lined many streets as Kira boarded the Liberty and carried Athrun and Cagalli through the city in the mobile suit's hands. The accusations against Athrun by Cervantes were washed away and almost entirely forgotten in the joyousness of the moment, a phenomenon common to public opinion. The public has a notoriously short memory, they are quick to live in the moment without too much care for what was said in the past. This was not to say that Cagalli's marriage was well received by all of Orb... many people in the other four royal houses were quite disgruntled, as many of them had planned on either marrying her themselves, or having children marry her, in order to solidify their own positions of political power under the EA government. The house that could net Yula Attha and her public popularity would be assured of a strong position under Cervantes... but now that was just a dream, dead in the dust. Others were still unhappy because Cagalli was marrying a Coordinator, especially Athrun Zala, but these people suddenly found themselves in the very tiny minority, especially after some people pointed out that hadn't the Justice fought to protect Orb during the last war too? And hadn't Athrun Zala been the one to destroy the GENESIS laser? These thoughts, and many more besides, caused most people to sit back and think a bit before they made a gut decision to hate him just because of his last name.

Kira brought them back to the executive offices after a brief tour of the city and its people. Spur of the moment marriage now over, they had a lot of work to do. The Orb Government had experienced a total collapse almost overnight. Almost every senior position in the executive, legislative and judicial branches had been held by an EA appointed official... and most of those officials had fled the country within hours of the fall of the Merciless and the evacuation of Cervantes Zunnichi. Those that had stayed were lucky if they weren't already dead, victims of the outraged public lashback at all things EA. In any case, they were no longer part of the government, most content to huddle in various safe houses or prison cells, glad for their lives and completely unable to oppose the new government, led by Cagalli. Things were already chaotic, as Cagalli and the protest organizers struggled to deal with creating a government pretty much out of scratch, with less than a day's notice. None of them were even slightly prepared for the endeavor... never in the wildest dreams or nightmares of anyone present had they thought they would have ousted the EA government so soon and so completely, leaving an enormous power vacuum to fill. Cagalli was Chief Representative, but there were dozens if not hundreds of other positions that had to be filled, and you can't just dump becoming State Treasurer on someone and expect them to do a good job right off the bat. Things were so breakneck hectic that Cagalli still hadn't managed to find the time for someone to look at her broken nose.

Cagalli and her fledgling government weren't the only busy people. The other Orb cities had denuded themselves of fire fighters, police and other emergency response personnel, all flooding to the capital to help with containing and relieving the disaster. The entire city was filled with so many people that you couldn't seem to walk down a single street without being force to rub shoulders with other people, all rushing around seemingly on the most important business. The first Orb military units started arriving back at their home nation at about noon and more ships kept arriving by the hour for the rest of the day. The EA divisions encamped in the Orb military bases and countryside areas of the nation rapidly found themselves surrounded by the new arrivals. Things were tense at first, until Waltfeld and Ramius arrived on scene with the Archangel and Kira in the Liberty. Both sides instantly recognized that particular mobile suit and especially that particular warship. After Murrue and Waltfeld explained to the EA that they were going to be expelled from the nation, not killed, things calmed down. There was a brief heatup when Murrue stated that the soldiers were to be disarmed and would be forced to leave their war material behind, but Kira merely took a single step forward in the Liberty and the EA commanders got the point. They weren't exactly sitting in a position of strength, with the Archangel hovering overhead and one of the most feared mobile suit aces of modern history watching their every movement like a hawk, while their own soldiers were tired, unmotivated and ill-prepared. They didn't have to like it... but they didn't have any other choice.

There were a surprising number of soldiers who actually defected to Orb, conscripts from other world nations that had long been suspicious of the motives of their predominately Atlantic Federation and Eurasian Federation superior officers. Others were inflamed by the injustices they had observed the day before, as well as others they had either observed or even guiltily took part in during the months long EA occupation of Orb. Still others were just people who hated war and had been drafted anyway, seeing this as their chance to get out of the military they had no desire to be in, to get back to their regular lives, as much as possible. In the end, almost a division and a half of EA soldiers ended up switching sides to serve under the Orb Government, rather than return "home" to Panama and other EA bases. Orb's military forces were suddenly bolstered by an additional fourteen thousand combat trained and experienced infantry troops, as well as several hundred MBT's and assorted armored vehicles and more than one hundred mobile suits, mostly Strike Daggers but there were several squadrons of Strike Crusaders as well. All this in addition to nearly a thousand armored vehicles of all sorts and two hundred more mobile suits confiscated from the expelled forces, plus tens of thousands of tons of other military equipment. No one particularly felt like trusting them all just yet, as soldiers who would turn their backs on their own home nations, even conscripted soldiers, just because the war turned against them were hardly the sort of people you wanted to go around relying on until you were sure they weren't going to switch loyalties again.

Over the next week or so, the framework of a Government that strongly resembled the Orb under Lord Uzumi Nara Attha... strong in people and principles, with lofty goals and iron strong determination... began to assemble itself from the wreckage of the capital city and the ruins of the EA regime. During this time Cagalli found herself working almost nonstop, sleeping for an hour or two whenever exhaustion claimed her, but there was no time for real rest... as she constantly reminded herself whenever she felt like just sitting down and crying in frustration, every single moment counted, if they could get a solid and working Government established before the EA recovered enough to try and come back, then Orb's independence would once again be assured. If not, all those deaths and the suffering of her and her people would be for naught, as the EA would return, angrier and stronger than before. Blue Cosmos would return and revenge would be had... especially since Cervantes Zunnichi was still Lord of Blue Cosmos and he was not one to take humiliation lightly. It wasn't that she had to do all that much traveling around... quite the opposite, she would sometimes remain closeted in meetings in the executive buildings for so long the sun would rise and set without her seeing it. But as the reclaimed Chief Representative of Orb, nothing major seemed able to get done without her personal signature or permission.

_If it wasn't for Athrun I'd prolly have keeled over dead yesterday._ Cagalli thought for what must have been the dozenth time in the last two or three days. No matter how hard she worked, no matter how long she stayed up, no matter how grouchy or disagreeable she became... and she did become quite unpleasant to be around after about halfway through day six... Athrun never left her side for more than an hour. She never saw him fall asleep before her, and he was always the one who woke her up to get started on yet another suddenly critical task, though he always seemed so terribly regretful about it she never quite managed to get angry enough to shove him head first down the biggest flight of stairs she could find... probably why he was the one to wake her up, rather than other people. Whenever she felt like throwing in the towel he was always there with encouraging words or sometimes just a hand on her shoulder or around her waist. When pleading governmental supplicants seemed to close in around her like a living ocean, it was he who stepped forward and glared them away, declaring that the Representative needed both her personal space and personal time if she was to get anything meaningful done. Given that he'd taken the time to retrieve the Righteous from the Archangel and had parked it right outside the front doors of the building, he usually recieved few arguments. The one time he had, the other guy had ended up with half his teeth shattered, lying on the ground drooling blood when he'd ignored two direct warnings from Athrun that Cagalli was too tired to deal with his problem right then.

"Listen up, people." Athrun had said, voice cold and steely. "None of you have to like me. A number of you already don't. But like it or not, I am Cagalli's husband and while I have no governmental power, do not think I won't exercise my rights to defend, protect and nurture my wife, even if it means I have to put you all bleeding on the ground to do it. When I say back off, she needs some rest, it's not a idle recommendation... it's an order. Do we have an understanding?" He'd finished, glaring at the nearly one hundred stunned and shocked people crowding the room, his eyes washed of their normal bright color as muscles visibly pulsed in his jaw. There had been no further arguments.

Later on, once they'd reached a more private location, she'd tried to scold him. "You can't just go punching everyone who's rudely persistent in trying to get my attention, Athrun. It's a very sweet gesture, but I can't have my administrators scared to come see me with their problems because my big bad husband is going to mop the floor with their faces if they come at a bad time. If it comes down to the point where some heads need banging together, I'll handle it, please."

"I meant what I said. I don't have any real governmental influence... yet... since the position of consort or partner or significant other of the Chief Representative isn't actually a political office. But like I've said several times before... as long as you're the one who picked up the burden of responsibility in the first place, theres absolutely nothing wrong with me helping you carry it till the end. In fact, its a vocation I think I'll be glad to devote my life to." Athrun had replied. "And vice versa too, of course. Right now you're the one who's picking up all the burdens... but love and life like ours is not a one way street... once we whip Orb into a shape relatively resembling that of a world government, you and are going to have some issues of our own to flatten out."

"Like what?" she'd asked, her voice sharper than she'd intended as she slumped into a nearby chair, looking out a wide picture window at the mid afternoon sun glinting down on the Pacific ocean... assuming you looked past some still smoking buildings and acres and acres of rubble first. The last thing she wanted to hear about was more problems. Athrun surprised her slightly by sitting down on the floor next to the chair, leaning his head against the side of her leg as he clasped one of her hands in both of his own. He'd sighed and it was then she realized that he really was just as tired as her, if not more so, he was just usually better at hiding it. He smiled at her, refusing to be goaded by her tone of voice.

"We'll probably start with the bigger issues. Children, for one. So far we've... well, you know... been careful. But now that we're married... umm... the glove can come off, so to speak."

"Athrun!" Cagalli flushed crimson, checking the room out of reflex, afraid there had been some unfortunate witness to that rather personal comment... a witness she decided then and there would either be sworn to silence or thrown from a high balcony... but the room was empty except for them.

"What?" he'd turned his head to peek out the window himself. "You're the one who pulled me by the arm into the chapel to get married... you're going to have to deal with the consequences now. I wasn't going to bring it up for a while, but now that everything's all nice and legal... well... heh." she could almost see the sunlight reflecting off his smile. "Believe me, Cagalli, I know this is an uncomfortable topic... for me as well as you. I mean for one, we still have no way of knowing if I'm even capable of producing children, being a second generation Coordinator. And we're both going to be so busy for the forseeable future that our present day labors are going to seem restful, once the EA decides if they want to contest your rule of Orb or not. But I'm not going to let this go, either. I assume you have no problems with children?"

"Ah... uh... er... don't you think this is a little unfair, springing this on me when I'm out of my head on fatigue poisons and caffeine?" she'd protested.

"Nah... I think it's better this way, with both of us so tired neither of us has the energy for subterfuge, only total honesty. So how about it, love? Are you up for helping me try and produce some little Zala-Attha's, eventually?"

"Attha-Zala's." she'd corrected him. She'd weighed the thought long and hard in her mind... as much as she could manage in her exhausted state anyway. Maybe there was something to Athrun's theory... she was so tired she couldn't muster up any of the usual excuses or escapes that she would have otherwise used to delay or muddle her choice enough to put off for another time. At length she'd sighed heavily, just like Athrun had earlier. "I don't see how we can avoid it, given our bed time habits." She'd smiled, feeling him twitch slightly, looking around the room himself for unwanted listeners. "Hell... yes, of course we'll have kids, Athrun. You thought that was a big issue? Come on... how could we not?"

"That was an awful big blush for an issue you didn't think was very big." He'd commented. She'd slapped him lightly on the top of the head. "Hmm...I wonder if I can do it again. See, there's this other issue... now that we can safely go out in public again, I was thinking, you see, of some of the rather more... uh, how should I put this... interesting... clothing articles I saw in one of Dearka's magazines. I think they'd look really good on you. Really, really good."

"You'd better not be saying what I think you're saying." her hand had clenched itself into a fist, hanging unnoticed above his head.

Apparently Athrun was farther gone into his exhaustion throes than even he was aware, because he missed that warning flag. "No, no, no, don't get me wrong. I mean, obviously, theres a limit... I only scanned through the first few pages... okay, the first dozen... twenty, fine, whatever. There were some very complimentary items in lace and silk, and red is both our color, righ... OUCH, what the hell was that for? OUCH! Damn it! OUCH! Stop that, it hurts... OUCH!" his sentence had become jumbled with exclaimations of pain, as her fists relentlessly pummled the top of his head, with a few judiciously delievered seated kicks to his side for flavor. Even so, he could not help but smile... he'd been right, he could make her blush again... just as red as the first time too. As things ended up, both of them found themselves glad that Athrun managed to momentarily escape her furiously embarassed and outraged attack long enough to lock the doors leading into the viewing room... some things just weren't for public viewing, especially given the delicate situation at hand. But that was not to say that either of them regretted it, in the slightest. The day itself seemed to get brighter, the sun shining down on the renewed Nation of Orb with a smile that grew bigger by the moment.

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The same sun shone down on other people, people who were just as careworn and weary as the Representative of Orb and her husband, but not nearly as cheerful. It really wasn't the happiest of times for the five people gathered high up the western slope of the large central volcano, Hameya itself, that sprouted from the center of the main Orb island. In fact, while funerals were never happy events, the two farewell ceremonies being conducted that day were especially grave, given that they represented the loss of two fifths of TEMPEST, the loss of two men who'd gladly walked into harms way time and again to preserve the ideals of peace, until the reaper had finally come calling, tired of being denied his due. James was in the casket, the lid closed over his corpse, which was hardly intact enough for a final look from the mourners, none of whom wished to look upon the ruined mess that James's head had been turned into by Asmodeus's bullets. James was dressed in the full dress uniform of the AFAR (Atlantic Federation Army Rangers), in whose ranks he had been a Captain until the end of the previous war, when he'd left to join TEMPEST with Alkire. His chest would have been sparkling with medals, if any light had been able to penetrate the simple hardwood coffin to glint off them. His beloved .50 caliber machine gun and twin auto-pistols were lying in the coffin with him, the weapons of an honored warrior being sent into the lands of reverence with him. An Orb flag was folded over the foot of the coffin, while an Atlantic Federation flag covered the middle portion, with a picture of James himself resting at the head of the coffin.

Alkire, Victor and Raine had taken turns digging the grave with utility shovels appropriated from an Orb Military Engineering depot that morning. Ysak and Katie were not allowed to help out, though Alkire had promised Katie she could help with the actual burying itself. In truth, Ysak felt uncomfortable being included in the funeral ceremonies at all, he could not help but feel like a total outsider, intruding on a sacred ritual. If Katie's hand had not remained around his waist, he probably would have either sneaked off or more likely fled running, but she was holding him... holding him and quivering in such sadness and distress that he could not dream of doing anything more than stand there and support her through this time of crisis. He'd known both men not nearly as well as he'd have liked to, looking back on it. Surprisingly, he found that he'd really gotten along better with Vladimir than with the rather jocular and too open James. It was disturbing in a way, that he found himself identifying with a confessed mass murderer and terrorist over a professional soldier, but he could not deny that it was the passing of Vladimir that was tugging hardest on his heart strings.

Vladimir was not in a coffin. His will had specified that he did not feel worthy of the honor of a military burial. He'd demanded that he be cremated and the ashes buried deep in a sealed container where they could not even begin to contaminate the environment further with their touch. It had caused many a frown when that part of the will had been read out loud, as Vladimir had not spared himself even the slightest of criticisms... Ysak had been startled by the depths of self loathing and embittered hatred recorded in the dry prose of the will, obviously written sloppily by hand at least a decade ago, with more recent additions in a far more precise style, owing to the steadiness of his artificial limbs. Truly, though most Coordinators would have gladly shot him on sight if they had realized who he was, the person who hated Andre Forkav the most was himself... a man who had willingly drained away large portions of his own humanity becoming a consumate killer for an organization that ended up betraying him and leaving him with absolutely nothing... no life, no children, no future, no happiness or satisfaction. Parts of the will had read like the confessions of a fanatical self flagellant, determined to scourge his sins from his soul with the fiery whips of his own sorrow and regret. Others were more lucid and less cataclysmic, by and large these were the sections written in the precise style denoting recent additions... plainly Vladimir had come a long way towards accepting himself and his past since he'd first written his will... these sections contained explicit instructions on what to do with Vladimir's worldly possessions.

His liquor supply, ten vintage forty ounce glass bottles of vodka, distilled before George Glen had been born and easily worth thousands of dollars each, he'd given to James, of course unable to foresee that their deaths would coincide. Alkire had kept half the wish, with five bottles back at the Orb Palace and the other five sitting in a cooler nearby, waiting for their destiny to be acted out presently. His modest monetary holdings, saved up from what he'd earned working for Blue Cosmos plus some invested money, he'd turned over to Alkire, to use as additional funding for the fight against Blue Cosmos. To Victor was given a small black notebook, again handwritten. Victor had not shared what the book contained, but Ysak's sharp eyes had detected a faint etching on the front cover of the book that read "Tricks of the Trade". His silenced pistol was gifted to Raine. That left only three items... well, four technically. Two of them were weapons, one was his artificial left arm and the other was a small plain box about the size of the palm of Ysak's hand. Of the two garrotes,Vlad had wanted the one with metal handles and diamond dust coated wire... the modernized expression of the ancient assassin tool... to be buried with him, inside the small steel urn. Fitting it inside had been a chore, but eventually they'd managed to wedge the two handles and accompanying wire into the foot high by six inches wide urn.

The other garrote, the one with oiled dark hardwood handles and an oiled woven silk string, was Vladimir's gift to Ysak. Ysak felt the oddly light and small mass of the assassination weapon bump against his chest with every breath he took... the weapon folded together tightly enough to fit inside his interior coat pocket with barely a bulge. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the donation... whether he should be awed or frightened at the idea that Andre Forkav had willed him one of his favorite death dealing tools. He wasn't sure if he should be insulted or honored... after looking at Katie, who tightly held the small box that was her gift in her free hand even as tears coursed freely down her face next to him and decided that he knew the answer to that. Vladimir had been who he was... an assassin, a murderer, a terrorist and a bogeyman... and perhaps the most dedicated, gentle and self-sacrificing man Ysak had never gotten the chance to know well enough. He brought his free hand up and patted his pocket, touching the weapon again. "Time for being an assassin... time for being a soldier... time for being a man." he whispered, finding his own eyes unaccountably blurry.

Vlad's left arm was to be donated to whatever medical research hospital or group would take it, hopefully it would become the prototype for a whole new generation of useful prosthetics, though that would not likely occur for some time, as the arms were highly experimental top secret technology of Blue Cosmos... they didn't exactly come with instructions or end user certificates, which would delay their acceptance by the public authorites. His right arm had been taken by Ledonir Kisaka from the battleground and given to Andrew Waltfeld. Alkire had considered asking for it back, but had reconsidered. What Kisaka said was true... Vlad would not have wanted the arm to go to waste... donating one to medicine would be enough, the other would serve better uses elsewhere. Assuming Waltfeld had the guts to accept the responsibility and the challenge Vladimir had given him inherent to the arm. Privately, Alkire had no doubt that the Desert Tiger would be man enough to step up to the plate... it was only a matter of time.

Finally, the graves were dug... the long and deep rectangular hole for James's coffin and the equally deep but far smaller pit for Vladimir's urn. Both gravesites were well sited, with Vladimir's urn going to rest under the spreading branches of a ancient tropical tree, well hidden in the shadows from any casual passerby, while James's coffin was buried facing outwards towards the ocean that extended to the horizon like a infinite plain of silver glory in the mid afternoon sun. The coffin was gently lowered into place, again unassisted by Ysak or Katie, who'd both moved forward to help, only to be thoroughly stopped by icy stares from the three tempest members. Katie and Ysak were family, but there was family and then there was teammates. Raine took the urn by herself and slowly dropped it into the pit on a line, before letting the line drop into the pit afterwards. Finally, the three remaining members of TEMPEST took several steps back and total silence descended upon the mountainside grove. The silence stretched for five minutes... ten minutes... fifteen minutes. Ysak did his best not to fidget as the people around him made their last, silent and personal goodbyes to the adopted family members and brothers in arms they'd lost.

Alkire was the first to speak, as usual. "Today, we stand here in sorrow, staring into a storm sadly diminished before its path could be completely followed. We were five, five of the best who ever walked this Earth, this we can all say without false modesty or hubris. Now we are three, still among the best, and now we are even further empowered. We've lost two brothers... two friends... two uncles... two men, men who gave their all for the principles they believed in, fighting to the last breath to preserve their honor and accomplish the goals they set before themselves. There is no higher dream to pursue, no greater accolade to bestow upon them than the simple acknowledgement that they willingly made the sacrifice all of us secretly fear and hope we will never have to make." Alkire paused to wipe away a glimmer of moisture in the corner of his eye. "However, neither James nor Vlad would want us to spend overmuch time standing here mourning their passing, since they died doing what they believed in. The TEMPEST has quieted... but it will rage again anew, fiercer and more powerful than ever before." he stepped back and saluted both grave sites before stepping over to pick up a shovel and wait patiently.

"I'm not nearly as eloquent as Herr Major." Victor added quietly. One hand played idly with the hilt of his curved saber as he stepped forward to stand at the very edge of Jame's grave. "James was always the one who brightened my day the most, the one who kept me sane when insanity raged around me. He was my battle-partner and my trusted back up... I... I cannot praise higher than that. I will miss you, James... may you find what you arelooking for in the beyond." Victor drew his sword with the sound of slicing air and slipped it through an elegant flourish before saluting with the blade. Keeping it unsheathed, he walked over to Vlad's pit. "Vladimir was... Vladimir. Between the two of us, I know not of any more devious pair of villians you'd ever have the misfortune to trail through an ambush zone. We all had history with Vlad... history good and history bad. Sometimes he seemed like every part of me that I was missing on the field of battle, smart when I was dumb, perceptive when I was blind, calm when I was angry... for that reason, amongst many others, I will always miss him. Good bye, Vlad." Victor saluted with his sword again before sheathing it and picking up a shovel next to Alkire.

"I was never as close as I should have been to Vlad or to James." Raine admitted. "I saw one as a sort of peculiar half-relation and the other as a childishly amusing but ever constant younger sibling. Looking back at things now, there's so much more to them that I never bothered to explore and now I'll never have that chance... that's what saddens me most. I don't need to say what they meant to me as soldiers and fellow members of TEMPEST... everyone here already knows about that. My family was lost to me when I was young, and they replaced it in ways I'm only now beginning to fully appreciate. Thank you both, I'll always remember you." Raine was her typically to the point and concise self, though Ysak could easily see there was a lot being left unsaid, a lot going through her head that no one else was ever likely to hear. But that was her business, not his. Katie moved next, dragging Ysak along with her for the first few paces before his mind caught up to his body and he remembered how to walk.

"They were my uncles... my surrogate family, best friends to my older sister Raine. They were the people I looked up to, the people I trusted to protect me when I was scared, to guide me when I was lost, to cheer me when I was sad. They... they... they are... my family. They... died... died so that we all may have a chance to live in a world where deaths like theirs are the anomaly rather than the norm. I'll never forget them, never forget what they've done for me and the people I care about! Thank you... thank you both so much, Uncle James, Uncle Vlad!" Katie gasped, at times overcome by her tears. _Thank You!_ The beepcall was so loud Ysak felt like his head was going to split. After he opened his eyes he had unknowingly shut in pain to look at Katie questioningly, he saw how tired she looked, and the very surprised and shocked expressions on the faces of Alkire, Raine and Victor, all of whom were looking at Katie. "Heh... that took more than I thought it would." she whispered, almost fully supported by his arm as she swayed, suddenly exhausted by the mental effort of beepcalling three Stumps, even Stumps whos minds she was intimately familiar with. "Worth it though."

"Katie..." Ysak trailed off, concern warring with his own surprise. _Say something._ Her voice appeared in his head again, this time much quieter. "What?" he asked. _Say something for Vlad and James. Please. For me._ "Uh, I'll give it a try... I don't have much experience in euologies though." _As if any of us do._ Katie reminded him. Ysak swallowed and cleared his throat. Alkire, Raine and Victor were looking at him expectantly, correctly deducing that the one sided whispered conversation between Ysak and Katie had something to do with their parting ceremony. "I... I didn't know either James or Vlad very well. I hardly knew them at all, to be truthful. I... I don't even know where they were born, where they grew up, if they have any family... all I ever saw of them was their business side, the side that carried death to their enemies and hope to their allies. Despite that, both of them... their deaths... they... they really... mean a lot to me. I feel... feel like I've lost something... something I barely knew I had until it was gone." Ysak stumbled over his own train of thought and paused for a moment. "I suppose they were... no, they were, there is no suppose. They were friends of mine... are friends of mine. We all share the same dream... a world without this stupid, senseless, destructive and needless war. Though I am a Coordinator, once one of their enemies, I feel as close to them because of our dream as I do to my own family. Huh... never would have thought..." Ysak trailed off, a contemplative look on his face. After it became apparent that he wasn't going to say any more, Alkire stepped forward again, handing a glass bottle of vodka to each person present.

"Vlad wanted to give these drinks to James. James can no longer drink them, Vlad could not have foreseen that. So instead of letting them go to waste, I have set some aside to keep for special occasions, so we can raise a special toast to comrades lost in the future. Here and now, I propose exactly that. A toast, to lost comrades." Alkire cradled his shovel in the crook of his arm as he used his hands to twist open the bottle's sealed cap. He held the bottle in front of his face for a moment, eyes staring unseeing through the cystal clear liquid inside before he tossed back his head and took a deep swig. He then turned the bottle upside down and let its contents drain out onto the flag bedraped coffin. "Drink up, my lost comrade." Alkire said, his voice slightly hoarse from the burning impact of the extremely fine aged hard liquor. Victor stepped up next and repeated the toast, also letting several thousand dollars worth of limited edition seventy three year old vodka pour into the grave, to splatter off the coffin before soaking into the thirsty earth. Raine also drank her swig, though she nearly choked on the fiery liquid, it being far stronger than what she customarily drank. Katie and Ysak looked at the bottles in their hands and then over at Alkire. "Normally, I don't encourage underage drinking." He told them. "But this is an exception. You don't have to keep it down for long... just until we cover the graves."

_Whatever. Never really tried vodka before._ Katie commented, her voice slightly drowsy as the continuing usage of her Newtype powers began to weary her out more and more... intentionally, Ysak suspected, so she wouldn't have to worry about her emotions keeping her awake. "I should hope not. Its not the most girlish of drinks." he replied, hopefully keeping the fact that he'd never drunk it either locked down deep in his mind out of her sight. _On three then?_ She asked, a slight smile on her lips telling him he was unsuccessful in his subterfuge. "On three... two... one." Ysak twisted his bottle open in concert with Katie. Like the TEMPEST members before him, Ysak held the opened bottle in front of his face and contemplated the transparent, watery looking liquid. Water it may have looked like, but the fumes coming from the surface were strong enough to make his eyes burn. _I know I'm going to regret this._ He groused mentally before steeling himself and looking over at Katie, who was similarly a bit overwhelmed at the potency of the drink.

"To lost comrades." they said in unison, taking rather deeper swigs than they had intended. Ysak didn't know what Katie felt, but to him the aged liquor didn't have any taste at all... no flavor, just an staggeringly volcanic fiery kick to the back of his throat and a feeling like molten steel trickling down into his stomach as his admittedly virgin throat took a double shot of roughly 97 proof alcohol. He doubled over, gasping, just barely able to remember to turn the bottle over to empty its contents into the grave, Katie on her knees beside him doing similarly. They both croaked something that might have been "drink up" but probably wasn't and then wobbled away from the grave, supporting each other by the barest of margins. The sound of shovels scraping at dirt came from behind him as Alkire, Raine and Victor buried the other two members of TEMPEST, faces grim once more as they completed their impromptu funeral ceremony... a practice they were getting rather too good at for their own liking, considering this was the second such ceremony they had put together.

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Much as the sun shone down uniformly on different people, so too did the act of digging lend a similarity between the actions of two disparate and widely seperated groups of people. At the same time that Alkire, Victor and Raine were burying two lost comrades, a quarter of the way around the world to the East, a massive excavation project was just drawing to a close. Where the base formerly known as JIHAD had once stood, ensconsed within three mountain peaks and presiding over several tens of square miles of mountainous jungle territory, now there were only ruins, the mountains that concealed the workings of the base blasted and destroyed by the avenging might of the Archangel. That had been some weeks and days ago, but still parts of the mountains leaked smoke or gently collpased under their own gradually weakening structure. Three days after the base was destroyed, the first search and rescue teams had arrived on scene, though there had been precious little to search and even less to rescue... weapons designed to be fired thousands of kilometers against hardened space warships were only too effective against stone and the reinforced metals the base was constructed of. Soon after the initial teams scouted the area and determined the base to be a near total loss, a huge contingent of miners and engineers was flown in, along with several companies of mobile suits and reinforcing infantry to serve as guards as the remains of the base were searched and shifted through for technological salvage.

The residential and factory mountains had been the hardest hit by the weapons of the Archangel, and there was not much to find there... all the most top secret facilities and projects were located in the sub levels, all of which were buried under thousands of tons of collapsed base and mountain. Efforts were initially made to try and blast through the rubble and when those efforts failed, specialty tunneling lasers were brought in and used to begin boring a new tunnel into the lower levels. However, soon after the tunneling lasers were first employed, all efforts to further excavate into the depths of the residential mountain were forced to cease because the workers and guards refused to enter the mountain. Solid, dependable and couragous men shared dark glances and muted whispers... there was talk of ghosts and monsters haunting the place, ghouls which scratched with bony fingers at the stones above their heads, trying to claw their way through to the people above. Supervisors scoffed at the rumors until a special team was at length sent in with ground penetrating radar and sonic imaging equipment, as well as sound recorders to prove to the workers that there were no spaces between the walls or ghouls scratching at the stones. When the crew came back out, they were white as sheets, shivering with terror and missing one of their number.

When the data they recovered was looked at by the supervisors and called in to their supervisors, all work was immediately halted and explosives set, sealing off the tunneling lasers and whatever they were digging towards under hundreds more tons of debris. What the radar and sonic imaging equipment had revealed was a huge network of tunnels and partially collapsed passages that honeycombed the area of the mountain the base had been built into, the result of some parts of the base being built stronger than others, creating a veritable warren or labyrinth. Interesting as this discovery was, it meant nothing until you listened to the sound recordings... recordings which clearly, if faintly, recorded the sound of something... animal... human... or neither... moaning in either agony or hatred... a noise which came from nowhere, its source indirect to even the precision equipment the team carried... but undeniably not from their side of the walls. There had also been barely audible scratching noises and even visible vibrations in the walls recorded by the video camera... probably just the noise of the base ruins settling under the weight of the mountain... but the scratchings got louder the longer the team had stayed in one place... and there was always the moaning to consider.

The member of the team who did not come back had seperated himself from the group for a moment, going off to measure a wall that was vibrating more strongly than any other they had encountered thus far. The sound of scratching coming from this wall was almost to the point where you could imagine some sort of slightly yielding but still strong object being dragged along the stone over and over again in an endless monotonous repetition. The other team members had all been attending to their own readings, their helmet cameras turned away. The cleared space they were working in was brightly lit... but it didn't matter because there was the sound of splitting stone, a hideous yelp and a horrendous scream and then a cacophony of noise as part of the roof collapsed and cut the size of the room the team was in in half... forever burying one man beneath the mountain. But then they had thought about the scream... it sounded more like terror or horror then surprised or profane, as one might expect from an experienced spelunker who saw an unsafe wall about to collapse... and they also thought about the noise that had preceeded the scream... it sounded like the cry of a hunting beast, the warble a victorious predator would make when leaping upon prey. All video and audio recordings taken of the tunnel were sealed and quickly flown away from the site, never to be seen by any man who had been there ever again.

Slightly shaken and wondering what sort of cursed place they had been assigned to excavate now, the crews had turned their attention to the remains of the factory mountain. Because of the volatile nature of most industrial sites, and especially ones that produced mobile suits, there was very little left but scorch marks and blast melted wreckage. What few parts of Strike Crusaders or other, as yet unnamed or constructed prototype units as were discovered were rapidly boxed up and shipped away by teams of men monitored by tense, shifty eyed supervisors, while large groups of other rough looking men, who'd been brought in after the episode at the residential mountain as additional guard forces kept even the workers who'd discovered the materials well away, pointing assault rifles at them and yelling profanely until they retreated, shaking their heads at the foolishness of the security precautions... what good was the junk they were finding anyway? Why did it matter if they looked at it? But apparently it did matter... matter a lot. One inquisitive worker got his jaw broken and a bullet put through his shoulder for his troubles when he lifted the corner of a drapery that had been place over the severed arm of a mobile suit that he himself had discovered, desiring a better look at the lines of the uniquely formed arm. After that, the workers were almost afraid to call away discoveries, fearing they'd be harmed in the guard's zealotry to perserve whatever secrets this base harbored.

With working morale reaching a fevered... as in diseased... level, all attention was turned to the storage mountain. Of the three primary base locations, it had been least affected by the destruction visited upon it by the Archangel, largely because it was basically just a very large warhouse structure, without much in the way of internal structures besides extremely solidly reinforced floors and ceilings. Workers who were first inside the cavernous spaces inside the mountain were awed by two things... one was the relative intactness of the structure, with emergency generators still operating and even some elevators working un-impeded. The other was the nearly complete loss of anything and everything that had been stored within the mountain. Billions of dollars of raw material had gone up in smoke and ash, or else been melted into the congealed lake of mixed metals that filled the bottom two layers of the mountain. Almost predictably to the hard worker excavators, their supervisors directed them towards focusing their efforts on the lower levels of the facility. Alert for any more wall scratchers or moaners, guarded by dozens of heavily armed men, workers slowly cleared their way through the fragments and ruins that had once been huge stacks of various types of metal or finished parts. The lower into the mountain they ventured, the hotter it became, until it got to the point where huge fans had to be set up to move air around to cool the men as they worked.

Once the work parties reached the top of the congealed metal lake, absestos suits were required for any person spending more than casual time in the proximity of the work sites, and workers were only able to work two hour shifts before they had to be rotated out to rest and recuperate for eight or more hours. Progress was slow because of this, despite the increasingly frenzied directives of the supervisors, spurred on by their bosses, and them by theirs and them by Cervantes himself. There was still a chance that the prize of prizes was intact, buried whole and hopefully undamaged in its maximum security lockers at the very roots of the mountain, safe even from prolonged orbital or strategic nuclear barrages. With agonizing slowness over the course of the next several days, the congealed metal was reheated to molten temperatures and then siphoned away, ejected from the mountain to form a huge fan shaped spoil field that marked the entrance to the storage mountain like a giant arrowhead fused to the stone of the mountain. At long last, after three days of gruelling, non stop shift labor, gargantuan hardened titanium-steel blast doors were revealed, their outer surface pocked and warped slightly by the heat of the molten metals that had inundated it, but the gate was still structurally intact and inviolate. Seeing this extremely good sign, the Blue Cosmos supervisors set the EA assigned engineers to clearing away a path away from the doors to the surface, and to constructing a door on the surface big enough to fit a space warship through. They refused to explain why they wanted such a thing, but they were resolute in their demands, and they had the authority to back it up.

With the EA soldiers working in the upper levels and on the surface, it fell to specially picked and trained Blue Cosmos experts to enter the mobile suit vault. The door mechanisms still worked, with only a little repair work needed before the two three hundred ton doors slowly levered apart and receeded into the floor to allow the humans access into one of the most secret places in all of Blue Cosmos. At times in the past this hallowed ground had been used to stage and store the nuclear missile that was fired at Junius Seven, before it was smuggled into space, as well as holding the three GAT series Gundams after they were constructed but before their BCPU pilots were grown to wield them. The disk that contained the schematics of the Freedom, the Justice and most importantly the N-Jammer Canceler, was enshrined in a safe in one wall of the vault, the safe had a clear front so its prize could be viewed without having to compromise security. Other prizes included the gun that fired the bullets that killed George Glen as well as the bullets themselves and some of the first Blue Cosmos flags. A computer bank which contained the complete schematic details of every mobile suit Blue Cosmos had ever designed or constructed was shoved up against the opposite wall, along with another bank of computers which housed the Blue Cosmos main data system, next to a rack of scale models of the same mobile suits that the computer could show you how to build. The rack contained more than twenty models, only half of which had been fully built or been taken past the prototype stages. The Strike Dagger, Strike Crusader, Raider, Forbidden, Calamity, Bane, Merciless, Fury, Purifier... each lined up next to each other like dolls, all still menacing despite that. The final remaining model was unnessecary... because the mobile suit it had been built to model was contained within the vault at that very time.

This mobile suit was called the Judgement. Currently it was in its pre-final construction phase, divided into three fully constructed but as yet unincorporated parts that would be combined into the finished machine. The reason for this awkward form of construction was the sheer bulk of the mobile suit... if stood upright, each section of the Judgement would be taller than the Merciless... indeed, the machine might be better described as a single person walking battleship, not a mobile suit. Much as the three GAT-Super model mobile suits... the Bane, Fury and Merciless... had been designed to put the EA ahead of the Coordinators in both terms of technological power and piloting skill, the GAT-Ultra series, the Judgement, was designed to be a superweapon... something a bit like the GENESIS Gamma Ray laser, but less vulnerable and far more precise. And far cheaper, though that wasn't precisely the concern. Combining many of the technological advances incorporated into the GAT-super series, but all rolled into one juggernaut of annihilation, the Judgement was the crowning glory of the new Blue Cosmos vision... a walking, fighting embodiement of death and racial superiority that would lead the crusade to wipe out the Coordinators once and for all. Mounting dozens of weapons, some of such size that they were usually only found on battleships like the ill fated Dominion, the Judgement was the Natural answer to the Coordinator concept of the mobile suit... bigger, tougher and more powerful than anything the Coordinators could come up with, if somewhat lacking in terms of speed and maneuverability.

The supervisors wasted no time in calling in their discovery... just about the same time as Purgatory Day was being broadcast live to the world in all its terrible glory. Because of this unfortunate coincidence, Cervantes and Asmodeus did not get the good news until they were about to land in Panama. This tremendous stroke of good luck had them both smiling and nodding, joking together much like they had back when they were close friends, before they had started this most current war. Cervantes was quick to congratulate the excavation supervisors, and even quicker to order that the Judgement be fully uncovered and shipped piecemeal to Panama under the heaviest of security as soon as possible... the sooner the better. His second call went out into the Blue Cosmos leadership of the Panama base, which included several of the Generals and Admirals responsible for the base itself, requesting... in a demanding sort of way... the largest mobile suit hanger on the base as well as slot on the ever busy Porta Panama mass driver launch schedule.

Cervantes did not intend to waste the Judgement on Earth... he'd take it straight to the PLANTS and use it like a sledgehammer to crack them into pieces until there were no pieces left. Cervantes's uplifted spirits and good mood lasted exactly one quarter second after he entered the terminal building where he would find his ground transportation to his quarters in Panama. There was more than just his driver waiting for him... Hellhounds recently disembarked from their carrier jets stood around in small groups, talking in hushed voices. But the thing that stopped him short in his tracks and turned his smile into a frown... was the sight of Sai and Vanai, bandaged and obviously still in some pain, standing under a banner that read "Isolation is the only way to prosper", emblazoned with the Blue Cosmos logo. His face colored with fury... he knew a political banner when he saw one, but he hadn't authorized any banners like that... what was Isolation anyway? And why was his son in law and daughter standing beneath it, backed by a contingent of Hellhounds, staring at him... him of all people... with undisguised distaste and annoyance? And why did the fine print of the banner read "The new Blue Cosmos endorses a peaceful solution to problems over physical force, bringing you a bluer and purer world one word at a time."!? As far as Cervantes was concerned, there was only one Blue Cosmos, no new or old about it... HIS Blue Cosmos, which most certainly didn't seek a peaceful solution to their problem... unless you counted the stillness of the death of all Coordinators as peaceful.

"Ahh, Cervantes... we've been waiting for you." Sai said, his voice calm and quite self assured. "We have issues we need to address with you. Concerning your retirement from the stage of history. Blue Cosmos no longer needs a man like you to lead it to destruction. I'm sorry sir... but you had your chance. Now it's my turn to do it the right way."


	78. Cosmos of Light and Dark

For those of my readers who have wondered where I've been, I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you. Underwater is the best I can do. For those curious about this, read my profile page and it should become clearer. Heres one more chapter, and hopefully a few more soon after, but no promises, I don't know how long I'll be in port.

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"YOUR TURN TO DO IT THE RIGHT WAY!?" Cervantes's exclamation was loud enough to turn heads in his direction even outside the debarking terminal. His fingers curled into fists and he took a single step forward, staring incredulously at his son in law and the banner he was standing under. "What exactly does that mean, Sai!? What the hell do you think you're doing? I must say, that if you've picked up the habit of playing practical jokes, you chose an extremely bad time to show it."

"No one here is more serious than I am, Cervantes." Sai replied quietly. "I didn't think my statement was all that confusing. Still, let me re-phrase it for you again... you've dropped the ball one too many times now, and I'm no longer going to sit on the bylines and let you make an embarassment out of our family name."

"You little bastard! I made you into the man you are today and this is how you show your gratitude? Kicking me while I'm down? I always knew you were a blind, foolish idealist, Sai, but I didn't realize what an idiot you were until just now. You honestly think you can replace me? Me, Cervantes Zunnichi, the Lord of Blue Cosmos? Have you gone mad? No one can replace me... no one else is even close to worthy to replace me." Cervantes snarled

"When a man starts to think of himself as irreplacable, no matter what he does, that is when his replacement becomes a necessity." Sai retorted firmly. "I didn't plan this from the beginning, Cervantes... I would have liked to work with you to address the Coordinator problem, to find a viable solution together. But you constantly refused to see any view but your own... you wouldn't even let me speak about any goal that did not end with the violent death of all Coordinators. By blinkering yourself to just that one solution, you blinkered all of Blue Cosmos and were starting to do the same to the rest of the world, dragging billions of innocent people down to hell with you in the name of racial fear and hatred. I'm very sorry, sir, but my own conscience would not let me sit by and let you abuse the lives of others for your own ends any longer."

"You're sorry? Not yet you aren't. You're not even close to sorry yet. You know me, Sai... I've never been tolerant of disrespect or understanding of rebellion. I'm the man who made you into the person you are today, who elevated you to the heights of power you enjoy and are now misusing against me... or trying to anyway. I know your game... its the same game that's been played by the young and lustful throughout all of history... you just want a bigger slice of the pie and you think my grip is slipping enough that I won't be able to stop you. You're wrong. Dead wrong. I can take everything from you... your job... your money... your respect... your society friends... everything, even including your love. Isn't that right, Vanai?" Cervantes replied with a sly wink towards his daughter, who had initially pumped Sai for information at her father's request, almost a year ago.

"No, it's not. Father... I will always love you for all the wonderful things you've done for me. You've made my life into the paradise its been... but I cannot side with you now. Please believe me, father... I have not abandoned you... I'm still your daughter... I still love you. But I can't let you do what you've been doing any more. I can't let you misuse your power to drag other people into a conflict that has no end." Vanai answered, her face set in stone though the pain in her voice was strong. It's never an easy thing for a child to tell a beloved parent that they think what they're doing is wrong... especially when you and your parent agree on so many other things.

Cervantes's face was white with anger now, and pinched with a mixture of displeasure and outright shock. The one thing he'd never expected was his own daughter, his own flesh and blood whom he'd lavishly spoiled since birth, whom he'd indoctrinated into Blue Cosmos personally, would turn on him like this. He'd underestimated the persuasive powers of young and lusty love apparently. The thought that perhaps it was his own increasingly desperate and unbalanced philosophy that might have driven this wedge between him and his daughter did not enter into Cervantes's mind. To him it was almost inconceivable that anyone could think his methods were anything but the most effective and correct methods available. He was fighting to win the war, damn it! Casualties were a part of the equation... people had to die to win a war, it was unavoidable. That's what soldiers did, wasn't it? Died to win wars, died to follow the orders of people like Cervantes? That was the natural order of things, after all. If you had power you made the decisions... if you did not, then you followed the decisions and sometimes that meant you had to die doing it. Sad perhaps, but there was no use fighting it. "So you've turned her against me as well, haven't you?" Cervantes said heavily, disappointment dripping from his words. "Frankly, Vanai, I guess I shouldn't be surprised... faith and loyalty are always hard to maintain when the man has a big cock and your father is far away, aren't they?"

"Father... no... I haven't lost faith in your teachings. I'm still loyal to Blue Cosmos... I... I just can't follow the same ideals you follow now. Can't you see... it's not us who have deviated... its you. Your path can only lead to genocide... Blue Cosmos was never about genocide... it was about preventing humanity from utilizing the evils of genetic engineering to erase their own roots and natural characteristics. It was about preventing science from perverting nature... to keep the essence of humanity pure! It was never about death... it was never about the killings before! Even Blue Cosmos never espoused rampant use of WMD's on terrestrial battlegrounds, or used military war machines to break up peaceful protests! Can't you see that you're going too far?" Vanai protested.

"There is no such thing as going too far. This is a war of survival. It's us or them... in a fight like that, you can't hold back... not even a little bit." Cervantes snapped.

"This is not a war of survival. This is a war of rampant misunderstanding and hatred, inflamed by the rhetoric of extremists like yourself." Sai countered. "I was there at the end of the first war... I know as well as anyone that peace was the only thing on anyone's mind then. No one wanted another war... no one wanted to keep fighting. It wasn't until the truth about Cagalli came out that things started to return to the way they were before the first war... and you can bet that the crap you shoveled down my throat for an explanation as to how someone found out about Cagalli isn't going to satisfy me now. How could a father countenance using his daughter like that, to force a man she loved to betray his friends? No wonder Athrun and Cagalli hate me... they think I betrayed them to Blue Cosmos willingly." Sai continued, his own voice lowering now as he warmed to his subject, keeping his next accusations more personal. "And don't think I'm stupid or blind, Cervantes... you think I haven't figured out that the giant mobile suit that destroyed Pearl Harbor with nuclear weapons and the giant mobile suit that attacked the crowds in Orb on your orders are the same mobile suit? Most of the rest of the world has no idea, obviously, but it seems to me that it is quite unlikely that two identical mobile suits would be in use by opposite sides, hmm? But then that would mean you ordered the nuking of Pearl Harbor as well... ordered the death of an entire city, just to provoke the public."

"That's... that's..." Cervantes stammered, unprepared for the highly accurate accusations. "You never said anything before..."

"I never had as much time to think it over before. See these bandages Vanai and I have... they aren't for paper cuts. Several days ago I rescued a man from being beaten to death by friends and neighbors who thought he was a Coordinator. It turns out that I was the one who was decieved, not them... he was a Coordinator, a deep planted spy. When he found out who I was, he killed the bodyguards you assigned to watch over me and tried to kill both me and Vanai, along with our children, who should be born in about two months now, if you care. If it weren't for additional security precautions I myself arranged for..." Sai had vowed to Ashino that he would not let Cervantes find out about him and so he embellished his account a little. "... we would have died. As you can see, we did not, though both of us were injured. We tried to call you and tell you... I wanted to at least talk to you about regaining my original security team while we recovered. But you ignored us... if it wasn't for a tipoff I received from some friends in the operations department of Blue Cosmos, I wouldn't even have known you were coming to Panama... though I guess I shouldn't be surprised, now that you've chased yourself out of Orb with your own stupidity. Attacking the crowds with a mobile suit!? How insane are you, anyway?" Sai demanded harshly.

"I did what I felt I had to do, just like always. If it hadn't been for the interference of that blasted Archangel and your former friends from the wedding, it would have been the right choice too. If the Merciless was still intact, I'd still be in Orb and you can bet they'd never protest my rule again." Cervantes spat.

"Your rule?" Sai asked, eyebrow raised. "I thought the EA was in charge of Orb... not you. You may have played your part in the peaceful annexation of Orb... but by no means were you its ruler. Despite your mudslinging, that title still rightfully belongs to Cagalli, I would think."

"A seventeen year old girl? Don't make me laugh. A national leader can't be a seventeen year old girl... she's nowhere close to mature enough to run her nation the right way... her public affair with Zala is more than proof of that much, I should think!"

"I don't think you have any understanding of Cagalli at all, if you're the one calling HER maturity into question. I didn't even know her very well... but let's do a quick comparison... she lost the only man she'd ever known as father to Blue Cosmos attacks... but instead of seeking revenge against our organization, she was mature enough to put her own pain aside to try and bring peace to the world again, working tirelessly to end the war not for her own goals, but to advance the cause of all humanity. Then we have you... you haven't even lost anything and you're still seeking revenge against people who cannot help how they were born. Who's not mature now?" Sai said in a withering tone. "And her "affair" with Athrun was quite discreet, in terms of national news, until you found out about it from me and revealed it yourself, so I would hardly think it fair for you to criticize her on that score either." He paused again, and closed his eyes, struggling to contain his own anger. "And what exactly is the right way to run a nation? How would you know what's right? You tried to run Orb like your own personal playground, oppressing its people, squeezing them for every red cent you could get in both money and manpower to fuel a war they wanted no part of... no national leader worth the name would run a country like that."

"Your own words turn against you, Sai." Cervantes smirked. "I may not know how to run a country, but can you say you really know how to run an organization like Blue Cosmos? I don't think so... you haven't the slightest clue as to how to maintain your authority over a political movement like Blue Cosmos. It's too big a responsibility for a moral weakling like you."

"That's not what the board of directors say." Sai replied calmly. "Do you honestly think I'd be foolish enough to confront you like this, in public, if I didn't have two legs to stand on with a lot of backup as well? Before you got off your jet, you were easily the most powerful and influential man in the world, Cervantes... and now, you're still unbelievably powerful. Thousands if not tens of thousands of people live and die at your behest every day this war goes on. If I didn't have the support of a lot of very powerful people, it would be suicide to confront you like this... politically and literally, given how you seem to solve problems these days."

"The board is a bunch of old fools... they never had any real power. They were never anything more than advisors to Azrael or I." Cervantes retorted, a superior smile on his face. "Even if you do have their backing, which I find dubious, given the amount of time I've known them, it doesn't mean anything. All they can do is ratify my decisions anyway... if they won't follow my orders, I'll just get rid of them and find people who will. There's always people who desire money like that which the board members make. Blue Cosmos does not lack for qualified people. No one is irreplacable."

"This time its you who have stumbled into a trap of your own words. Let's see if you can weasel out of it too." Sai observed. "Blue Cosmos is full of qualified people... and no one is irreplacable. Especially not the person who fills the role of figurehead leader. Any highschooler who has a few years of drama club under their belt could do your job, Cervantes... all you have to do is be the public face of Blue Cosmos and all that requires is a force of personality and a big smile."

"But that's not all I do. I'm the one who makes all the decisions." Cervantes smiled. "Without me to order it, nothing would get done."

"I think you'll find a surprising amount of things get done without you even knowing about them. I've managed to fund and manage my little breakaway party right under your nose for months now and you never had any idea. You've been too worried about the war you caused to mind such little details. Yet another reason why I can't let you continue on as leader... you've lost touch with the organization... what sort of leader lets a member of his own family rebel against him, after garnering the support of the board of directors of the company and organization the leader is nominally head of? Not a good one, I can tell you that."

Cervantes smiled again, crossing his arms over his chest and regarding Sai through slitted eyes, casually looking around the room, noting with satisfaction that it was still mostly full of Hellhounds... his own personal elite troops, the best of Blue Cosmos. "Well, I can't say this was a pleasant surprise, son in law. But this little coup of yours ends here and now. You may have support, you may have political backing. You have my daughter and you have your arguments. But you have not won. In fact, confronting me like this has resulted in you losing. You know me as well as any, Sai... and thus you know I have no ethical problem with ordering your death, even now, in public." Cervantes looked around the room again and his smile grew. He raised his voice. "Hellhounds... you know what to do with traitors!"

"Too right we do." the inflectionless voice of Cyprus Finch replied from off to his side. Cervantes had still been smiling as dozens of armed men within hearing distance had drawn their weapons in unison at hearing his order. He was still smiling when he turned to regard the Lieutenant. He stopped smiling when he saw that the Lieutenant was pointing his rifle at him, not at Sai. Indeed, as his eyes darted around in shock, about half the Hellhounds present weren't pointing their weapons at Sai at all... they were pointing them at their fellow Hellhounds, who had followed Cervantes's order. From a distance of less than six feet, the small caliber muzzle of the Gladiator rifle still managed to look big enough to fit one of his fingers inside now that it was pointed between his eyes.

"What is the meaning of this!? Asmodeus, what the fuck is going on here!?" Cervantes demanded as everyone within sight froze, unprepared for the sudden rifts within their unit... it had been less than a day earlier when these men and women were all fighting and dying together... now they were at gunspoint with each other.

"I would imagine that Sai has more support than either you or I guessed, sir." Asmodeus answered quietly, his icy blue eyes blazing with anger as he stared at Cyrpus Finch, his star pupil and most valued subordinate... a man whos loyalty he had thought to be utterly unquestionable. The thought gave him pause... if Sai's views were enough to bring around a man of Cyprus's caliber and intellect, this wasn't just some power grab on Sai's part. There had to be real meat to his arguments for Cyprus to betray his superiors like this. In truth, Asmodeus had been worried about Cervantes's mental state for a while now, and his rash decisions in Orb had done nothing to reassure him about his friend's stability. But Asmodeus could not change camps now... there was too much shared blood on his and Cervantes's hands for him to turn away from his oldest friend just because of the path he was taking would likely end in ruin for everyone. If you couldn't be loyal to your friends then there was no point in you being alive, in Asmodeus's opinion.

"Get your people under control, Asmodeus! I won't stand for insubordination in my soldiers!"

"They aren't our soldiers anymore, sir. They're Sai's soldiers." Asmodeus pointed out, one hand on his pistol grip, though he did not dare draw it while Cyrpus already had a gun pointed in his direction... he was nowhere close to that fast, especially not at his age.

"They aren't my soldiers... they're my friends and companions, people who support my plan for ending this war and bringing peace to the world once again, a peace that will prevent any Natural-Coordinator conflicts for all time, once the fortifications are fully completed, that is." Sai replied. "I don't want this to turn into a political war, Cervantes. Such a thing will only prevent Blue Cosmos from becoming the force it will need to be in order to bring the war to a rapid close. I'm asking you now... begging you if you want... but however you want to look at it, please, just step down. Relinquish your death grip on the fate of the world... for the good of all mankind and for the preservation of our blue and especially our pure world. Please."

Cervantes chuckled and the chuckle turned into a laugh... and from there became a full blown fit of amusement. After nearly a minute he pulled himself together again and he turned to jab his finger at Sai, ignoring the weapons pointed at him in his fury. "I don't think so, Sai. The only way you'll ever get Blue Cosmos from me is if you pry it from my cold, dead fingers. And I don't think you have the balls to kill me... or even order me killed. Oh, your pet dogs here will do the deed for you if I were to order you dead here and now... but you yourself will never be the one to order an assassination. It's not in your character... it doesn't play well with your ethics or morals." Cervantes growled with a terrible grin. "You argue well, but words mean nothing... only actions... and you are afraid to take action. If you weren't, you would have greeted me with a bullet, not a banner. You think you speak from a position of strength, but your support is a house of cards and I will delight in kicking it out from underneath you and grinding you and your little group of supporters into bloody paste beneath my heel. This is not the end of things, Sai... this is just the beginning. You accused me of starting a war for my own ends... well now its a crime we're both guilty of." Cervantes reached out slowly and purposefully and pushed his finger into Sai's chest, causing the slim young man to sway backwards. "For the Preservation of our Blue and Pure World... stand by. Just stand by."

Asmodeus eyed the Hellhounds who'd joined Sai's faction warily... most of them looked ready to open fire at less than an instants notice, as their leader was threatened by Cervantes. "Sir, it might do well to remove your hand..." Asmodeus started to say.

"We're done here, Asmodeus. Let's go. We have a very big guest to prepare for, let's not forget. Come now, we have no time to waste." Cervantes spun on his heel and walked out of the terminal, head held high, utterly ignoring the guns that followed his every move, dismissing them, daring them to shoot him because he knew they wouldn't... because it wouldn't be right... it would be murder to shoot him... and Sai was no murderer. Which was why Sai was not going to be around too much longer if Cervantes had any say in the matter. He smiled again as he walked outside to meet his driver, Asmodeus and the still loyal Hellhounds warily following him, weapons still to hand as the tension in the terminal room gradually died down. Cervantes reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, which he casually flicked open with his thumb. He paused in front of the open door of the limo and looked back into the terminal building, meeting gazes with Sai one more time. He hit a speed dial button on the phone and held it to his ear. "Frost... I hope you haven't gotten too comfortable..." he slowly drew a finger across his throat meaningfully while maintaining his gaze lock with Sai.

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Sai maintained a stubborn and resolute expression on his face until Cervantes's car was well out of sight. Then he allowed his true feelings of worry and concern to show. He turned to face Cyprus and the other members of the Hellhound teams who had chosen to side with Sai's party, the Isolationists. "That didn't go nearly as well as I was hoping it would." he admitted. A ghost of a smile crossed Cyprus's lips as he slung his rifle across his shoulders once more and picked up the gunny sack that contained his other gear and supplies he had brought to Orb with him.

"I don't know, nobody died... thats more than I was expecting." Cyprus said dryly. He glanced over his shoulder, where the stretcher that held Thomas Glory was just being picked up again by four Hellhounds... one for each handle, since two men by themselves weren't strong enough to carry the massive Sergeant-Major for very long. The tiny smile left his face when he regarded his friend of longest standing, still unconscious from the sedatives he'd been force fed by Cyprus on the flight over. He tried not to think about how close he'd come to losing one of the few people that really understood him... a commodity he was always careful never to underestimate the value of. Of course there was very little... almost nothing... he could have done to prevent Glory's injury, only a desperate man or a madman would have done what Captain Ramsgoth did and he paid the price of his actions... but though Cyprus kept his emotions supressed much of the time, he was still more than human enough to feel guilty that he hadn't been able to prevent his friend's suffering. A .50 caliber slug fired from close range into your side would have been enough to kill a great many men that Cyprus knew... there was a reason why action heros always fired the big guns, never got hit with them... they were designed to be deadly, one shot kills almost no matter where you hit your foe. Even the redoutable Thomas Glory had been near death for a while, until they'd reached the jets and got him hooked into some blood replenishment.

"There's less of you than went to Orb. I didn't realize the mobile suit battle involved the Hellhounds." Sai noted, seeing only eighteen soldiers present counting Cyprus and Glory, considerably less than the thirty or so Cyprus had assured him had been converted to his views before going to Orb.

"It did not. At most it had a subtle effect... when the Merciless went down, the roof of the room we were fighting against the members of TEMPEST and your friends in collapsed. Before we could pursue them and finish them off, we recieved a frantic distress call from Cervantes and we were recalled to help guard him as he evacuated. There was such a rush that we were even ordered to leave nonambulatory wounded behind." Cyprus saw Sai looking around, seeing several Hellhounds with leg or torso bandages, besides just the insensate Glory. "Naturally, he didn't exactly do a headcount and Asmodeus had already turned control over the battle to me earlier, so he was in no position to complain."

"And what of..." Sai trailed off, not quite sure how to ask what he wanted to know.

"Our objective was to kill Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yula Attha." Cyprus said heavily. "We failed to complete that objective utterly. We did kill Captain James Ramsgoth and I've received reports that Captain Vladimir Valkavich, aka Andre Forkav, was killed as well, but until I see his body myself I would not count on that. In the process we lost almost twenty Hellhounds and more than thirty EA infantry soldiers dead and many more wounded. By any standard I know of or follow, the mission was an abject failure, a career ruining event." Cyprus paused and grinned slightly. "For all that, its a failure I think I can live with... even more than I could live with success." Sai smiled back, relieved that his friends... estranged friends but he as a whole wished them no harm... were alright.

"I cannot help but agree with you there... though our viewpoints differ, I am still working in parallel with Lacus and Cagalli... and the more people working for peace, the easier it will be to gain it." Sai replied. His face clouded again quickly. "Assuming we can remove Cervantes from power quickly enough. I don't know about you, but to me he looks like he's in a tailspin, going down in flames and hellbent on dragging whoever and whatever he can down with him to justify his failures. Like I told him... its not me vs him in a personal battle for power and prestige... this is a warranted and necessary step that I personally find quite distasteful, but I could not delegate to someone else... he is my father in law and he was right, he did make me the man I am today... and I aim to show my gratitude by saving him from himself."

"And everyone else along with him." Cyprus mumbled. "He's not going to go quietly though, I'm sure you realized that. He is not able to see that we are not acting out of selfishness and he will treat us all as enemies now... barely above the level of the Coordinators he hates so much."

"He was spot on on his characterization of me. I won't countenance sending people to kill him. He may be insane... he may be the single biggest contributor both to the start of this war and its continuation... but if we just kill him off, if we resort to that level of persuasion, we wouldn't be any different from him and I refuse to be like him. I may start out just ordering the necessary deaths, but soon, the definition of necessary death might start to change to mean what I want it to mean and from there its only a matter of time before I start sending mobile suits out to attack helpless civilians. No... he's right, he's safe from harm coming from me or mine." Sai said firmly. "Bodily harm that is. I intend to murder him politically, socially and reputationally, you can rest assured of that. It won't even be all that hard, with all the ammunition he's given me to use against him from Carpentaria and his rule over Orb."

"He's not stupid. He's going to try and silence you." Vanai piped in. "I don't think he'd try and hurt me, despite his hurtful words, but he'll be seeing all of you..." she waved her hand at Sai and the Hellhounds. "...as vermin to be exterminated as quickly and finally as possible. Knowing my father, I'd say he's probably already on the phone... or has Asmodeus on the phone... setting things up to kill you all."

"His resources exceed ours, especially here. We need to leave Panama and return to safer waters as quickly as possible." Cyprus agreed. "Too much can happen on a military base like this... a mobile suit misfire, a defensive emplacement program error... there are many ways for people to die accidental deaths. Cervantes might not even care about making it look accidental anymore... he still has Zacharis Frost and the Fury and while my men and I may be able to protect you against a large number of infantry, theres extremely little we can do against even a mobile suit like a Strike Dagger, much less the Fury."

"What is this Zacharis Frost anyway? I've had people tell me a little bit about him, but thats only been recently and I'm not quite sure what to make of what I've heard." Sai asked. He thought a moment. "We'll return to my home in Hawaii... its on its own island and your team already has defensive positions set up there, I'd assume. It's as safe a place as any for the moment, until I can contact some of my supporters and set up a real hideaway."

"That's acceptable for the moment. At the very least we should be able to see any enemies approaching from far enough away that we can effect an evacuation." Cyprus agreed. "As for Frost, well, I know only what I've read about him in various briefing documents, which were frustratingly sparse on the details and strong on the hinted assumptions. From what I understand, he's an engineered human... not genetically, but chemically and mechanically... designed to counter the potentially superior physical and mental abilities of the Coordinators. His purpose is to engage them on their terms and beat them. His specifications... I use their term... exceed those of any Coordinator ever born by significant margins. Personally, I've yet to see him doing anything particularly amazing, but I've heard the rumors... dodging bullets, tearing through brick walls with his bare hands, being shot multiple times without dropping, killing with a punch... he's supposed to be absolutely unbeatable in a mobile suit too."

"Sounds like a real monster." Sai observed.

"Good word choice." Vanai commented with a shudder. Sai and Cyprus looked at her, equally surprised.

"You know about him?" Sai asked.

"Not really know, no. I've met him before though. He was at the party back in Swtizerland, before we got together. You may remember someone dressed as the Grim Reaper standing at the door greeting people. That was him." Vanai explained, leaving out her rather more personal involvement with the vicious little killer... what good would it do to tell Sai about how she'd slept with Zacharis several times? None, none at all. "What Mr. Finch did not cover was that despite his many science gifted powers, Zacharis might have lost more than he gained. He's twisted... evil in the strictest sense. My father is misguided and probably crazy... Zacharis is irretrievably insane, the sort of being whom normal humans cannot even connect to any more, his psychoses so terrible that he has become apart from humanity. My father may see people as tools or pawns to be used... Zacharis sees people as things upon which to vent his rage and pain by killing them as brutally as possible. He would think nothing of attacking crowds of people in a mobile suit... he would enjoy it."

"Wonderful." Sai noted, trying to hide his concern... from the conviction in Vanai's tone he knew she was not exaggerating. "You said he was designed or engineered... does that mean there are more people like him?" He asked Cyprus as they walked outside, headed for the jets that were being fueled and prepped for another flight, the crews having been forewarned by several Hellhounds who'd run ahead as soon as Cyprus agreed with Sai about their destination.

"Not like him, but there are other's similar to him. The term my father always used was BCPU... don't know what that stands for, but Zacharis was called a BCPU 6 and there was another one, a girl, who was a BCPU 5." Vanai volunteered. "Maybe she wasn't as strong as him... she was pretty warped and fucked in the head too though."

"Biological Computer Processing Unit." Sai furnished, the term Ashino had supplied him to use to describe who Ashino was. He noted Cyprus's look of interest. "A... new friend gave me some information, I was seeking to expand my knowledge base by asking you." Sai explained.

"New friend?" Cyprus raised an eyebrow eloquently. "I take it he's that security measure you spoke of?"

"You noticed."

"I may have loaned you my pistol, sir, but you're no combatant... if a Coordinator spy had entered the house and managed to neutralize your guard detail, you were as good as dead without outside help. I knew something was going to happen as soon as I left your side... just knew it."

"I did manage to get a few shots off... but you're right, I wasn't even close. I remember I tried to pilot the Strike Gundam once, soon after we landed in the African desert... I just felt so useless, with Kira defending us all the time and me being unable to do anything at all to help. Since then, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm just not the sort of man who's worth is decided by how he can physically protect the people he cares about. I'm no pushover, but I'm certainly no soldier and even less of a mobile suit pilot. My battles are fought with words, in online forums and on the floors of political offices or courtrooms... that's why I have friends like you, Cyprus, and my new friend... to provide me and those I care most about with the physical protection I am unable to provide."

"I take it we're going to meet this "new friend" of yours?" Cyprus asked. "He must be pretty good, to take down a ZAFT spy by himself. And he seems pretty dialled in on some very sensitive projects of Blue Cosmos, to even know the name Zacharis Frost."

"Frankly, I still haven't completely made up my mind about him just yet." Sai replied as they boarded the private jet, which was filled with Cyprus, the comatose Glory and seven other Hellhounds, while the others rode in another jet. "He saved my life... saved Vanai's life and our children's lives... but theres so much about him I don't know and I'm not sure of the reason why he hasn't opened himself up to me more fully, since he professes complete friendship."

"So you don't trust him?"

"More I'm waiting for a second opinion before I feel completely safe. He and I are getting to be friends, he reminds me a lot of Kira... and that's both a good thing and a bad thing. I've been burned once in the fires of a sundered friendship... I'm not eager to go through that sort of hell again."

"I'm honored that you think so much of me as to ask me to check him out." Cyprus said, taking a seat and closing his eyes.

"Why? Who else would I ask? Vanai has much the same opinion of him as I do... he's a wonderful person, gentle, kind and loyal... but those things are more like a skin over what he really is... we don't know how deep those qualities go and until we do... well... that's why I'm asking you." Sai replied. "Besides... its not like he could fool you... one look into those eyes of yours and a mute person could start babbling out all their secrets."

"Heh..." Cyprus chuckled once, almost like a hiccup of amusement. "It's just psychology... prey animals tend to have nervous eyes, always evaluating their environments for threats, while predators have focused vision to pick out a target and bring it down. Prey are uncomfortable when they are forced to stare at one thing... especially at a predator. Humans are no exception, most of the time... those who lack confidence or are less than completely sure of themselves tend to be unable to meet the gaze of a true predator... unless they are a true predator themselves. Cervantes for instance... I could stare him down to my hearts content and he wouldn't even twitch... same for you, I believe. But humanity as a whole... most would look away, uncertain which of their faults I know of, wondering why I have to stare so hard."

"Are you tired? I'm sorry, you've probably been up for a long time... and fresh out of combat too. Damn it, you're supposed to say something... I'm not going to deprive you of your sleep just to talk with me!" Sai protested, seeing that all the rest of the Hellhounds were already dozing in their seats.

"There's tired and then there is in need of sleep. Tired is when you've done enough work of any sort that you don't want to do it any more... I'm tired, but I won't be able to sleep just yet." Cyprus replied. "Not until I've satisfied myself that everything is as it should be."

Sai shook his head and sighed. "You certainly are hard on yourself."

"My job is the easy one... you are far harder on yourself, adopting the role of leader, sir. I only have to worry about keeping my men and myself alive, and you and your wife alive and safe... you have to worry about saving the entire world... and the world currently doesn't seem to particularly want to be saved. Don't waste your concern on me, sir, I've endured much worse than this before."

"Maybe so, but I'm still going to worry about you. What sort of leader would I be if I wasn't concerned for the well being of my friends and supporters? No... we're on a jet and theres not a damn thing either you or I can do to affect our own safety until we land again. So until that point in time, you're going to sleep... it'll be an order if it has to be, but I'd prefer it to be a recommendation. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be getting some rest too... that confrontation was not easy on the nerves."

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Ashino watched as the helicopter slowly approached the landing pad of the splinter island that Sai's mansion was built on, some twenty or so miles from the Big Island of Hawaii. It had been almost a full day since Sai had left with Vanai and a few supporters to meet Cervantes in Panama, the most likely place for the leader of Blue Cosmos to flee to after being chased out of Orb. Well, former leader now, if Sai and the world were lucky... Ashino didn't have much hope for that though. He'd never known the exalted leader of Blue Cosmos personally, and was glad for that... but given what he did know about the man, giving up power was not something he would do quietly or bloodlessly. He'd been concerned enough that he'd considered going along with Sai to Panama as protection, despite the risk of discovery and massive confrontation that that would have sparked, but Sai had counseled him against it, revealing that many of the people he was going to meet in Panama were highly trained soldiers already on his side of things. Ashino still had misgivings... he knew well what sort of soldiers Blue Cosmos tended to recruit... slovenly at best, with notoriously fickle standards of loyalty or else utter fanatics, not the sort of men who would see any sort of end to the war but what Cervantes saw. He supposed the sight of the helicopter returning on time, with no worldwide news proclaimation of Sai's death, was a good sign, an indication that at least his newfound friend was returning alive.

Ashino was casually dressed in some clothing that Sai had ordered for him... durable dark blue slacks, not quite military fatigues but not civilian wear either, with a light blue undershirt and dark blue overshirt that matched the slacks in construction, with many large pockets on the front and sides. Combined with military boots, sturdy belt and dark blue garrison soft cover, his "working clothes" brought to mind the uniform of a professional janitor or exceptionally clean mechanic. The pistol holstered at his side and the compact assault rifle slung over his left shoulder quickly dispelled that illusion, leaving no doubt that the short but muscular man was at the very least a security guard or soldier. Ashino fingered the hilt of the long combat knife sheathed across his lower back as he watched the helicopter make its final security passes before coming in for the landing, tapping the rubberized grip almost nervously in anticipation. At length he noticed what he was doing and quelled his rebellious twitching with a stern thought, though he did smile briefly... such nervous tics were a sign of normalizing to him, an indication that he was really becoming more human the longer he stayed around Sai. He looked out at the landing pad again from his position in the shadows of the tree line, squinting his eyes in the sandstorm briefly blown up by the rotor wash as the helicopter settled to the ground.

The men who came out of the helicpoter first were not familiar to him. There were two of them, rangy of build with tense stances, dressed in an odd form of urban camouflage that featured splotches of orange as well as the standard white, grey and black. Both men were well armed, with assault weapons similar to the one Ashino carried held confidently in their arms, while pistols and knives were holstered at waist and thigh. Grenades hung in tight clusters across their chests, which were bulky in a way that suggested high quality body armor to Ashino's eyes. Both men wore full face helmets of slightly fanciful design, with the face masks being constructed in the form of leering hound faces complete with snarling fangs and glowing red eyes. Still, there was nothing flighty or jocular about how they scoped out the area, always moving so that one covered the other, with overlapping fields of fire and constant motion. These were professional soldiers, among the best he'd ever seen. Ashino did not wait to be detected by them, a forgone conclusion given his relative lack of cover and the no doubt high tech sensors built into their helmets. Keeping his hands near his weapons but not overtly threatening, Ashino stepped calmly into the daylight of the landing pad, staring at the polarized window of the passenger compartment door. The soldiers hadn't shot at him yet, but he declined to take that as meaning they were friendly... they were cagey sorts and a lack of action did not indicate a lack of intent.

His fears and worries were put to rest a moment later though, when the helicopter door opened again and Sai jumped down onto the ground, one hand on his sun hat to keep it from blowing off in the fierce rotor wash, the other raised to help Vanai down after him. Once his wife was safely down on the ground, Sai turned and gave Ashino a brief wave and a nod, heading over towards him as more and more of the soldier types came spilling out of the helicopter behind him, this time with their masks up, revealing tired but resolute looking human faces. The back hatch of the helicopter lowered with a hydraulic hum and more soldiers crabwalked slowly down it, carrying stretchers with injured soldiers on them, including one man who was a true giant, so big that two men could not carry him farther than the edge of the landing pad before having to set him down to rest their arms. One final soldier jumped down from the helicopter, a lean and mean specimen even amongst the other soldiers, who all exuded a tough aura of competence and deadliness. This final soldier kept his face downturned from Ashino's vision while waving for the helicopter to take off, before falling into step a few paces behind Sai.

"Ashino, it's good to see you, my friend. I hope things have been restful for you during my absence." Sai said warmly as he approached, his steps only slightly hitching from the pain of his wounds, which were still some time from being fully healed. Ashino's own wounds and injuries had closed within days, but he forced himself to remember that Naturals or even Coordinators were not nearly as robust as a BCPU.

"It's good to see you as well, Sai. I must admit to fearing that you might not return." Ashino replied, remembering to extend his hand to shake Sai's... one of many everyday customs he was learning. "Cervantes is not a man to confront lightly." Sai reached out and took the proferred hand without hesitating, despite the slightly unnatural feel of Ashino's skin, which was more leathery than even the most hardened outdoorsman, despite looking no different from any other skin.

"Well, I cannot say it went as planned, but we all came back alive and whole, though given what my father in law hinted, that's a situation that might be changed at any time." Sai answered with a smile and an unconcerned shrug that didn't fool any man present. "I hate to be abrupt, but has anything come up that I should know about? Anything at all?"

Ashino did not immediately reply, his gaze and attention focused upon the lean and mean soldier that had shadowed Sai ever since he left the helicopter. As usual, he was looking up into the man's face, but Ashino found himself unable to get more than a peripheral view of his features... due to the fact that his eyes were locked onto the pale grey orbs of the soldier's eyes. Ashino wasn't one for primacy rituals or pissing contests, but he wasn't just going to back down from the hard stare of this Natural soldier either. Besides, even he, empathically deadened as he was, could discern that this was a good deal more than just a game of comparing manhoods. The soldier wasn't trying to get him to look down or away... entirely the opposite actually, Ashino felt like his gaze was being inexorably drawn into the others, like his soul was being slowly pulled out through his eyes and examined in minute detail by the other. His mouth twitched in a slight smirk... he was no stranger to a penetrating stare, as any man who had worked long with Asmodeus Sark had received more than a few of them. He took his own measure of the soldier as the soldier took his measure of Ashino. For nearly a minute the two men stared each other down, barely even blinking as each tried to rummage around in the other's head to get a handle on what sort of person they were.

"I can do this all day if need be." Ashino said at length. "And while it is interesting, I don't think it serves either of us much purpose besides entertainment. It certainly won't help Sai any. My name is Markov Ashino. I'm a Biological Computer Processing Unit, level 4. I used to be the pilot of the Blue Cosmos Gundam designated the Bane before it was destroyed some weeks ago in Panama. Currently, I'm a guest at Sai's mansion, though I don't think I'll be going anywhere on my own... I've sworn myself to his service in whatever capacity I can manage or he can find for me. Pleased to meet you."

Cyprus narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second before reluctantly cracking a small smile as well. It had been like staring into a room with a couple of active smoke grenades inside. He could get some sense of Ashino, a general layout, a basic map of his psyche... but any sort of detail was occluded from his view, either by years of mental and psychological conditioning or mental damage of some sort. Given what he'd heard on the unofficial grapevine about what sort of processes it took to become even a BCPU 2, he strongly suspected it was a combination of both. Despite this, he hadn't gotten any sort of feel that Ashino intended any harm, however minute, to Sai or his cause. Ashino was likely a troubled individual with a troubled past, several psychoses and a great deal of hidden angst, but Cyprus couldn't make himself hold any of that against the short BCPU. His smile turned bitter for a brief moment... indeed, such a description could be applied to more than just Ashino. Without breaking eye contact, Cyprus held out his hand.

"Lieutenant Cyprus Finch, formerly of the Hellhounds of EFSOU. Commander of Sai's security detail and his personal bodyguard." Cyprus said firmly as he shook hands with Ashino.

"He's also a good friend of mine, though he has trouble saying that out loud." Sai chipped in. If Cyprus was shaking hands with Ashino, that must mean everything was cool between them and Sai could let out a small sigh of relief. He wouldn't have wanted to witness a battle between two men like Ashino and Cyprus. It wouldn't have been much fun for him either, having two close friends at each other's throats. But luckily, that didn't look like it was going to happen. "In fact you'll probably both find you have a lot in common, including a sometimes frustratingly taciturn nature."

"I choose my words carefully, that's all." Cyprus retorted, turning towards Sai to shoot him a barely perciptable nod of permission.

"Why say something when it has no meaning?" Ashino asked, noting the nod and deducing that he'd just been examined and given the green light. He didn't mind... he thought it was quite prudent of Sai actually... there was a great deal about Ashino that was unknown to Sai and it would only be natural for him to want to be sure Ashino was no threat to him, even if he had already saved his life. Of course, there was a great deal about Ashino that was unknown to Ashino himself, so unfortunately he wouldn't be able to open up to enlighten his friend about him anywhere near as much as he'd like to. "The only message of note was an encoded document from the people at Research... they're nearing the final stages of blueprints for the Archmage and Cataphract designs. Assuming everything goes well and nothing bad happens to their funding, they'll be moving into prototype construction within the week."

"That's good to hear. ZAFT is retrofitting their entire force with new models of mobile suits and the Strike Daggers and Strike Crusaders just aren't going to be a match for them any more. It'll be back like it was at the start of the last war... we'd have the extreme numerical advantage, but thats not much of an advantage when one of their machines can destroy five of ours." Sai replied. "You're a pilot... what did you think of the schematics for the Cataphract and Archmage?"

"How about I tell you as we walk?" Ashino offered. "If trouble really is at your heels, its best not to stand around in the open too much and the day is hot... we don't need you or the soldiers getting sunstroke just for the sake of my opinion."

"What about yo..." Sai was about to snappily rejoin with a smile when his mind caught up to his mouth. "Oh yeah... little bit of tropical sun and heat probably doesn't bother you too much does it?"

"Not generally." Ashino admitted. "I can remain optimally functional in temperatures ranging from eighty degrees F below zero and one hundred eigthy degrees F above zero for an indefinite period without the need for protective clothing."

"Not that he's bragging or nothing." a Hellhound whispered to a friend. Ashino turned his head towards them where they stood in some shade about forty feet away.

"It's merely a statement of fact, not a boast. Its nothing for me to be proud of... I'm not resilient because of personal achievement or training, merely because it is how I am made."

"You have keen ears." Cyprus commented as he, Sai, Vanai and Ashino stepped off the helipad onto the path through the trees that would lead them to the mansion. Cyprus noted without looking that the hale members of his teams were already fading into the palm forest, spreading out into a defensive perimeter across the area around the mansion while others carried their wounded comrades inside to the guest rooms. He didn't have many soldiers to command, but he didn't really need many when he had Hellhounds. Ashino shrugged, another human mannerism he was now proud to display whenever he got the chance.

"I'm a weapon, Cyprus." he replied casually, disdaining the use of ranks or titles... they reminded him too much of his old life. "What good is a weapon without sophisticated targeting systems?" Cyprus shrugged in return and nodded once. "But to answer you about the mobile suits... I think they admirably fit your outlook and strategy, Sai."

"So what's wrong with them then? I sense a bit of reservation... just tell me what you really think about them... I'm not thin skinned, a friends opinion isn't going to make me cry." Sai pressed. Ashino frowned and struggled to order his thoughts into something coherent, something a non pilot would be able to understand.

"Well, obviously they aren't perfect, since the Cataphracts are woefully slow and clumsy, being heavily armed and armored centauroids. They're more mobile artillery platforms than mobile suits really. Even more so for the Archmage... its just a big floating box with guns and repair facilities. In any sort of running engagement your forces are going to be at an extreme disadvantage. From what I know of ZAFT, their machines are going to be quite maneuverable... I'm worried that despite the heavy armor and weapons the new models sport, because of the speed and agility of the enemy, it will do them little good. Look at what Kira Yamato did to Cray and the Merciless at Carpentaria... all the firepower in the world doesn't matter a bit if you cannot hit the target."

Sai smiled and nodded, considering what Ashino had said. "I agree with you up to a point. Fortunately, not all Coordinators have Kira's skills... if they did, the war would have been over months ago. But I think you've slightly misconstrued my intent for the Cataphracts and Archmage's. Unlike ZAFT, our new designs are not going to be replacing all our old models, but will merely be added to our inventory. Deployed in groups of four Cataphracts and one Archmage, armed with their artillery weapons and defended with their linkable Citadel shields, they will form a sort of mobile stronghold on each battlefield, from which the rest of our forces can resupply, repair and rest, not to mention use as defensive positions. Think of it like this... we are men with spears... ZAFT is cavalry. We cannot stand against them alone or even in small groups, because they are faster and more agile than each of us individually. But if we all work together and form a hedge of spearpoints, a square to defend all sides... well, then they will break upon us, unable to penetrate our defence no matter how hard they attack."

"That's an alien idea to me. Formation fighting died out centuries ago, with the advent of heavy mobile artillery and other long range weapons of destruction." Cyprus said contemplatively. "To think that the new counter to the Coordinator war machine would be to revive an ideal from so long ago, in the days of the beginning of gunpowder use." He smiled. "Frankly, I must applaud you, sir... I can honestly say I never would have thought of doing something like that."

"I studied a little bit of history... the Napoleonic wars of the late 1700's and early 1800's AD especially. That's where the idea came from. It would all fall apart of course if ZAFT managed to come up with some form of new "cannon" to break our "square" with, but they've showed a great deal of reluctance to use WMD's so far in this war and I can only hope they continue to do so. Thanks to Kira and the others, our own efforts to use such strategic weapons have likewise been mostly stymied, thankfully. As soon as I'm able, I'm going to have all those nukes dismantled or shot into the sun... we don't need weapons like that... they're just a curse on humanity, of no use to any moral right thinking person." Sai replied.

"What about Gundams?" Vanai threw in suddenly. "I'm no military tactician or student of history, but it seems to me that only foolish people would disregard the effect only a few powerful mobile suits piloted by exceptional people had on the last war. Think about it... throughout all of history, sure, battles have been fought and won or lost by strength of arms, or numbers or strategies... but they've also been won because troops were properly led, inspired by great leaders, special individuals who turned the tide of seemingly lost battles merely by their presence. To me, Gundams represent people like that in modern warfare... a force stronger than its physical characteristics would indicate, a force multiplier to use a military term my father likes. Something that when added to an already powerful unit increases their abilities to astounding new levels. I would think that Lieutenant Finch would be a good example of such a thing."

"She has a point. My men and women do perform better when I am on the field of battle with them. Not to say they don't always give their best even when I'm not around... but their best seems to get better when Thomas or I am there." Cyprus admitted after a moment's thought.

"Cervantes is not blind to that idea. Thats what I and the other BCPU's are." Ashino said. He bowed briefly in Vanai's direction. "Thank you for pointing that out to me, something of the sort had been nagging at me but I was unable to put it into words until just now. Ordinary soldiers are well and good... but now that the Gundams have been introduced they must be accounted for. Currently ZAFT has no Gundam, though I've heard a few reports of some new prototype that had a hand in destroying the 12th lunar fleet. Of the Earth Alliance, only Frost and the Fury remain, but he alone is an enormous advantage. The three of us could have turned the tide at Washington DC and saved the city if we'd been allowed to. Cray and the Merciless very nearly compromised Carpentaria's defenses before Kira showed up. These are examples we cannot afford to ignore. I myself am easily capable of annihilating a company or more of mobile suits alone, assuming I was in the Bane. If ZAFT does have a Gundam in development, that could very well become a "cannon" to use your analogy, that would break our formations and spell doom for our cause."

"It seems ludicrous to think that the actions of a single man and machine could have such a drastic effect, but I cannot deny you your points. After all, I was aboard the Archangel at Jachin Due." Sai said quietly as they reached the patio. A sudden thought occured to him. "This might sound a bit counter culture for me, but would it be possible to use this Frost character and his Gundam? You've told me that he's a monster and I don't doubt you, but the raw fact remains that he's a very effective monster by all accounts."

"I wouldn't recommend that." Ashino said instantly.

"Hell NO!" Vanai cried vehemently.

"That would be inadvisable." Cyprus added, speaking almost at the same time as Vanai and Ashino. Sai held up his hands placatingly.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I guess that leaves us with one real choice then. Somebody hand me a phone. I need to call R and D and get them started on a new project. A new Gundam."

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Frost looked out of the small window that pockmarked the fuselage of the long range cargo transport aircraft. If he'd been human, he probably wouldn't have been able to see much of anything at all... it being well past midnight. It didn't help that they were a good thirty thousand feet in the air either and there was moderate cloud cover between them and their target. As things were, he fancied he could just barely make out the whitish outlines of crashing surf along the coastline of the large island below them through occasional breaks in the clouds. His mind was blank, not quite asleep but not at normal active level either... much like a computer that goes into low power mode between periods of intense activity. He might have even dreamed once or twice, but he was never sure. These last few months had been unusually lucid for him, but he'd learned long ago that he couldn't trust his own mind even a fraction, because it wouldn't hesistate to mess with him. Even just thinking something like that caused a slight reaction... shadows seemed to elongate and drip from the ceiling, almost humanoid in shape, shrieking mouths open soundlessly as they were torn apart by something he couldn't see. The tang of fresh blood drifted past his nostrils and he imagined he could feel a liquid warmth seeping over his palms. There was a burst of background noise, like static, that caused him to shake his head slightly before looking out the window again. The glass was cracked now, and a slick blackish-red substance coated the lower half. He paid it no mind.

"Holy fuck... holy fuck... holy FUCK!" a soldier screamed from across the compartment, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the ravaged body of one of his fellow squadmates, who'd gotten up from where they were huddled in a pre mission shoot-the-shit to take a piss. On his way back from the bathroom stall, he'd for some reason decided to take the long way around the compartment, perhaps stretching a kink out of his legs. In any case, his meandering path had led him to pass right next to the small, half catatonic form of the special agent that had been attached to their company for this mission. None of the members of the MAGOS (Marine Assorted General Operations Squadron) company knew what to think of the kid. They'd been ordered by the mission leader and their officers to give him a wide berth, but to the hardened mission specialists of one of the most elite fighting units in the EA armed forces, he didn't look so tough. But then the soldier had stood between the kid and a light source, casting a long shadow over him where he sat hunched by a porthole. What had followed had happened so quickly no one had seen anything but the aftermath. There was a gasp of shock and pain and then the sound of shattering bone and cracking glass. The soldier was now headless, his neck a ragged stump from whatever force had twisted his head off and slammed it so hard into the glass porthole that the reinforced glass cracked and the skull fragmented into a dozen clattering shards.

"What in all the names of god is going on bac..." a senior enlisted NCO poked his head out of the small forward room beneath the cockpit where he was getting the final premission brief from the mission leader along with his fellow NCO's and officers. "Oh shit!"

Asmodeus heard the exclamation and sighed, knowing that his good fortune had at last run out. He'd dared to hope Frost would remain introverted and quiet until they reached their target, barely twenty minutes away now, but he should have known things were going too well. Maybe if he'd had the rest of the Hellhounds with him... but no, they were all either undergoing intensive loyalty and psychologic retesting following the defection of fully half their number or else directly guarding the Judgment in its hangar, assuming they passed the tests. Two had failed so far and that had necessitated their... retirement. A waste of talent and training perhaps, but better that than another schism in the ranks. So instead he'd been forced to make do with another special forces group under the umbrella command of EFSOU. He'd pulled a few strings, called in a few favors and ended up with a company of almost seventy MAGOS soldiers. MAGOS was a little too strictly military for his tastes... EFSOU was more a paramilitary or truly "Black" operations group, while MAGOS served the Naval branch as their own personal elite fighting force, much like AFAR for the ground based forces. But they were adequately trained, if not nearly to the same extent as his Hellhounds and they were very well motivated and perhaps most importantly, completely and totally loyal to Blue Cosmos. This was a mission about as far off the books as it could get... military soldiers assassinating a political leader who was well loved by many people in the EA without provocation or notification. There would be no speaking of this event... not ever.

"Calm down." Asmodeus ordered flatly, moving away from the lecturn board where he'd been laying out the general plan of attack against the Zunnichi family mansion situated on the small island off the coast of Hawaii's Big Island. He was dressed in his Hellhound's uniform, with his helmet-mask set upright and facing out into the assembled officers and NCO's sitting in the briefing chamber. A unsubtle but undeniably effective reminder to them that his words were to be taken extremely seriously. Normally infamous for their rowdy and bawdy conduct before missions, the MAGOS soldiers hadn't so much as whispered behind his back ever since he identified himself and set out the helmet. Reputation did have some uses after all. "I warned your soldiers to stay away from that man. This is why."

"He tore Simmons's FUCKING HEAD OFF!" the NCO, a First Sergeant, shouted with one hand pointing at the gory mess while the other scrambled to unbuckle the mean looking automatic pistol holstered at his side.

"Then Simmons was an idiot. Do not approach within ten feet of the man dressed in the cloak... how hard is that to understand?" Asmodeus retorted, placing his hand firmly on the sergeant's gun arm. "Stand down, Sergeant. And relay that to your men. The very last thing we need is for a gun battle to break out inside an aircraft at thirty thousand feet. It wouldn't even make a difference anyway... it would only provoke him."

"But sir... he's just attacked and killed one of my men!" the commander of the MAGOS company, Captain Kiffon, protested. "That man needs to be restrained for court martial. I demand his incarceration and trial!"

"Demand noted and denied. Zacharis Frost is not governed by the military code of conduct. He is also exempt from civil laws, since he is a non-citizen of every nation. He doesn't even exist, do you understand, Captain? Your man had a terrible accident during a training mission. That's all. Believe me, you do not want to take this any farther up the chain of command than it's already gone. Training accidents can be depressingly common. Now, since we've resolved the situation, let us get back to the briefing... we don't have too much longer until we reach the DZ." Asmodeus informed everyone in the compartment loudly, firmly and coldly. He stared the Captain down for only a second or two before the man cast his gaze down and ducked back into the room, pale and trembling with pent up anger. Asmodeus didn't care even one bit. Let the man hate him... the hate would help sharpen his reactions... and he'd need every advantage he could get, because they were very likely going up against the Lieutenant. Asmodeus had not revealed this fact to his troops for reasons of morale... no one would perform well knowing they were going to be fighting against a legend.

He strode quickly back up to the temporary podium and picked up his pointer stick again, ignoring the glares from everyone else in the room. "We're going to be utilizing HALO drops. The DZ is going to be cold... the enemy has no anti-air defense capability or any form of long range sensors. Rapier team... that is, myself, Frost and the command squad plus the heavy weapon squad will deploy into the forest here, on the northen tip of the island. Trident team... squards 2, 4 and 6... will conduct an ocean splashdown and come up towards the house from the eastern beach while Broadsword team... squads 1, 3 and 5 lands on the western beach and comes across in a pincer movement. Are there any questions about the basic plan of attack?"

"What sort of OppFor (Opposing Forces) are we looking at here?" the MAGOS XO wanted to know.

"The exact number is unknown, but theres anywhere from twenty to thirty hostiles in residence at the manor, approximately one fifth of which are non-ambulatory wounded. The primary target is a noncombatant, but his guards are top notch. Consider them at the very least equal to you yourselves and you'll have a good starting mentality. I won't lie to you, gentlemen... the enemy is likely to be well dug in and in fortified positions. The house itself is hardened against anything smaller than a RPG. Luckily, we have complete diagrams for the layout of the built in defensive locations and command center that were built along with the house for security purposes."

"If these guys are anywhere near as good as us, they won't be using those anyway." the First Sergeant who'd been first to respond to the scene in the cargo bay replied sourly. "How are they armed and equipped? Any vehicles or heavy support?"

"No more than light civilian vehicles and oceangoing surface craft. The enemy forces may have a heavy weapon or two, but there are no dedicated heavy weapon units and I have very strong information which says that their heavy weapons will be inoperative or ineffectively used." Asmodeus answered. _Unless Glory somehow manages to do the miraculous and recover from a .50 caliber gunshot wound in less than a week... which isn't possible for a human._ "I would expect to encounter traps of all sorts, ranging from IED's (Improvised Explosive Devices) to mines to satchel charges to bundles of grenades on a tripwire."

"This is going to be a bloody fucking nightmare." the First Sergeant muttered. "Night time HALO drop, cold DZ or not, into an unknown number of well trained and entrenched hostiles in a FUCKING JUNGLE and REIN-FUCKING-FORCED house, likely equipped with at least one heavy weapon and through who knows what sort of fucked up booby traps they've set up."

"You don't have to like it, Sergeant... you just have to do it."

"Not to mention we got a goddamn psychopath dropping with us!" Captain Kiffon added venemously. "What's his deal, Captain Sark?"

"I could tell you what his deal was. But if I did, none of you would ever go home to your families ever again, successful mission or not." Asmodeus shot back. "I can say this much though... he's our trump card." Further conversation was interrupted by a series of three loud pings and a blinking red light up on the wall above his head. "There's the five minute warning. This briefing is concluded. Good luck." He did not wait for any more questions, picking up his helmet-mask and striding briskly from the room. He turned and stalked over to his private cubicle just across the hall, barely bigger than the bathroom stall just a few steps further down the passageway... cargo aircraft not being known for their luxurious and spacious accomodations. He felt the aircraft dip and slide as it slowly descended towards the drop altitude of twenty three thousand feet and made the final course corrections that would lead it to fly over thier target. Without wasting motion or time he threw on his body armor and equipment, patting his side once absentmindedly where his sword was missing from its usual place... a long blade had no place on a para-drop mission... more hassle than it was worth.

Once he was prepared he took a heavy metal case from a rack along the wall and pressed a thumb into its genetic lock scanner, popping it open with a snap of rotating metal gears. Carefully he withdrew two short and heavy bladed machetes with chainsaw teeth running along their edges instead of a normal edge. Holding them in the crook of one arm he took two heavy batteries from other indentations in the foam interior of the case and slipped them into firmly secured belt pouches, one on either side of his body. He was no fool... Frost would carry his weapons down... but he wouldn't be able to fully use them until Asmodeus supplied him with the batteries on the ground. He didn't delude himself into thinking Frost couldn't wreak bloody havoc with the inert blades anyway, but it was a small measure of control and he was glad for it. With a final look around to make sure he hadn't missed anything, he set his helmet onto the top of his head and strode out into the cargo compartment, where the MAGOS soldiers were completing their final mission preparedness checks, heavy oxygen masks and NVG visors perched on top of their heads, hunch backed with bags of gear or tanks of extra oxygen for the ocean dropping teams.

The alert siren pinged three more times and the warning light turned a steady red. "Two minute warning!" an NCO bawled, making sure his squad was properly strapped into their parachute-gliders. Asmodeus made his way over to Frost, stopping a good ten feet away and out of easy reach. The dead soldier, Simmons, lay where he'd been killed, his blood congealing on the floor as the cargo bay was slowly vented to the atmosphere outside. Decompressing like this wasn't the most comfortable way to do things, but it was fast and easy as long as portable oxygen supplies were used by the troops, there being little to breath at 23,000 feet. Asmodeus set the chain-machetes on the ground and kicked them over to Frost, who looked up at the sound of metal grating on metal. His eyes glinted with triumph when he saw the gift, though it dimmed somewhat when he picked them up and noted they were inert. Asmodeus snapped his helmet-mask down over his face, feeling the portable oxygen supply kick in. He heard the various MAGOS squads conducting their own oxygen and commo checks through the tactical net. No helmet or oxygen mask had been provided for Frost. He did not require one. Three more pings sounded and the light started flashing green. One minute. Asmodues shrugged into his own parachute-glider and snapped all the closures tight. Frost had been wearing a parachute the entire time, it being locked on to him before he boarded the plane. He was a valuable asset after all... if something happened to the plane they wanted to be able to stand a good chance of finding him at least.

"Thirty seconds to DZ." the pilot announced over the tactical net. "Conditions are cloudy and calm, with a fourteen kph wind out of the north. Temperature at altitude is negative thirty... temperature at LZ is seventy four... a nice night for a fight."

"Fuck you, flyboy." Captain Kiffon snorted, from his position at the ramp. He hit the interior control button and with a almost silent humm the ramp dropped, affording everyone in the cargo compartment a great view of a sea of grey clouds below them and the cold starry night above. There was a period of time where there was dead silence. Then the light above their heads turned solid green. "DROP DROP DROP! GO!" Captain Kiffon shouted putting word to action and diving headfirst out of the back of the plane, followed in well drilled progressions of a second exactly by his men. Asmodeus and Frost were the last to leave the plane, with Frost jumping first and Asmodeus leaping after him, making sure that the little BCPU was never out of his sight or gun range. Below, a peaceful tropical island slumbered, quiet and expectant.

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Ashino looked up at the night sky, at the faint moonlight filtering through the cloud cover at about ten thousand feet or so. There was a storm coming, he estimated. Not tomorrow, but the next day. Nothing major, just a rainstorm. The air had that slightly charged feel to it. His stomach panged and sent a frissure of momentary pain through his abdomen. He grimaced and gritted his teeth until the pain was gone. It wasn't a hunger pang... he ate better and more copiously here than he had anywhere or anytime else in his life. But his metabolism required more than sugers, proteins, vitamins and fats to sustain it... without the chemical compound Gamma Glipheptim his various biological modifications and augmentations would begin to wear down at a rapid pace. Normally he received continuous doses of the drug, which also served to heighten agression and sharpen reflexes, every two weeks. His internal stores carried enough supply for a month before they would run dry. But his last refill had been before his fight in Panama and he knew he was beginning to run low. The stomach pangs were like a biological alarm light, meant to warn him that he was running low on fuel so to speak.

He did not look forward to the time when the drugs ran out. Crippling pain would be the initial symptom and would continue without abating until he received a dose of the drug. If he went for a sustained period of time without any in his system, his biological and chemical upgrades would begin to... deteriorate... the end result of which would be his death by massive internal bleeding in four or five days. Maybe a week all told after his supply ran dry and he'd be dead, unless he managed to somewhere find more. Which didn't look likely, the drug could only be synthesized at great cost in a very few specially equipped laboratories in the world. The primary source had been JIHAD, but that was of course gone now. Another facility existed in Panama, but that wasn't an option either. There were bound to be others, but Ashino had no idea where they might be. He'd of course informed Sai about this problem of his and a blood sample had been sent off to the Research and Development scientists who had defected from the Puritan Blue Cosmos to join Sai's Isolationists... but he held little hope that they'd be able to adequately supply a replacement source in time. His blood had so many chemicals and other additives in it that it could barely even be called blood by some standards. Isolating a single compound, when not even he knew what it was composed of... well... needle in a haystack, so to speak.

His train of thought diverted slightly after he thought about the R and D guys. Isolationists... Puritans... Blue Cosmos had been fractured into two political camps by Sai and Cervantes. The line had been drawn in the sand with Sai's confrontation of his father in law in Panama and the schism had become a public reality only a day later, when Sai sent out a message to every major chapter house of the organization worldwide and on the internet as well. He had called for all moral and right minded people to come forth and stand with him to oppose the madness and bloodlust that had gripped the old echelons of command in the organization, the ones who would perpetuate such bloody horrors as Carpentaria or Purgatory Day. Personally, Ashino had had some doubts as to how much of a return Sai was going to get on his investment but he'd been pleased to be proved shockingly wrong. Sai had smiled when Ashino admitted this and said "Well, since all you were ever around were the die hard fanatics of Blue Cosmos, I can hardly blame you for having that opinion my friend. But Blue Cosmos is much more than just the extremists... its a world wide organization made up of everyday people. Shopkeepers, students, businesspeople and yes, soliders. But by and large these people... these regular, normal people... are as sick of this war as you or I am."

Ashino smiled and shook his head again... truly he understood nothing about the great scheme of things. But he was learning... slowly but surely. A creaking floorboard behind him alerted him to the presence of another person walking out onto the third story balcony, though in truth he'd been aware of the man as he made his nearly silent approach through the empty guest room behind him as well. "Couldn't sleep eh?" Corporal Richard Ramierez, the scout of Hellhound Alpha team commented, coming out onto the balcony to take in some of the night air as well. Like every other Hellhound, he'd of course been briefed in on the BCPU project on several different occasions, but he'd never expected to encounter one personally... special forces and the mobile suit division didn't have much to do with each other, generally speaking. Ramierez hadn't yet made up his mind about Ashino... in truth his mind was so filled with conflicting thoughts about the current world situation and the memories of the disastrous battles in Orb not so long ago at all that he hadn't actually thought of the short red head at all until he spotted him standing out on the balcony.

"I'm not very tired." Ashino replied noncommitally. These Hellhounds reminded him too much of the old Blue Cosmos... it was of course to their eternal credit that they had chosen to side with Sai, but he could not bring himself to trust them just yet. He was betting the feeling was mutual. They didn't go out of their way to avoid him per se, but neither did they seek him out to talk with him. At least until tonight. "You?" Ashino asked in return.

"It's too quiet out here. Almost expectant... theres a charge to the air." Ramierez replied, putting his hands on the railing and looking out across the moderately dense jungle that covered much of the small island. There was nothing to see but the tops of the trees, barely swaying in the shore breeze and the dim glint of refracted moonlight off the water miles away. Birds called sleepily as they were disturbed by the movements of rodents or lizards in the underbrush and the constant hum of flying insects provided a soothing background intermixed with the sounds of the waves washing up on the sandy beaches. "Maybe I'm just getting a case of the post battle shock... Purgatory Day isn't something I'll be forgetting any time soon."

"You... uh... lost... friends?" Ashino asked hesitatingly, unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. Ramierez gave a deep sigh but did not turn to look at the BCPU. There was a long pause.

"Yeah. I lost a lot of good friends." Ramierez answered tightly, closing his eyes in grief. "Damn those bastards in TEMPEST... fiends, bastards to the last. Those goddamn booby traps... urgh!" Ramierez shook his head in remembered frustration.

"I'm sorry." Ashino said, doing his best to be sincere. He was unsure of how successful he was until Ramierez turned his head to look at him.

"Heh. Didn't expect that." Ramierez commented. "No offense, but sympathy wasn't something I expected from a BCPU. I thought they tried to burn that out of you guys."

"For a long time, I thought they had." Ashino admitted, taking his turn to look introspectively at the inside of his eyelids. "It's only recently that I've started to realize how much of myself I still have."

"Well, it sounds like we've both got a bit to get off our chests, doesn't it?" Ramierez noted. "Most of us aren't sure what to make of you, Ashino, I'll freely admit that. A lot of us don't like being around you just because of what you might be. Hell, I'll man up and admit that you scare me. You could kill me right now and theres not much I could do to stop you, is there?"

"Yes." Ashino agreed after a moments thought. "Given the proper provocation I could kill you with an eighty nine percent probability of receiving no more than minor damage, with most of the other eleven percent consisting of killing you with various amounts of more severe damage to myself."

"See, thats another thing... you just don't act human all the time either. To most people thats a real off putter."

"To most people... what about you?" Ashino asked.

"I'm a scout. We tend to be more lone wolf types. Not the most amiable of people, if you catch my drift. Sure, you're a little more out there than most, but you're not the most dehumanized person I've ever talked with." Ramierez said, turning around to lean back against the railing.

"Thank you." Ashino told him sincerely. He was about to say more when a faint noise reached his ears. "That's funny..."

"What is?" Ramierez asked, staring up at the cloudy night sky.

"Why is a plane flying overhead at this time of night? We're well outside the normal air traffic lanes." Ashino replied, his skin prickling as the charge in their air seemed to intensify for no discernable reason. He cast his gaze upward, his enhanced eyes cutting through the murky gloom of the night with far greater ease that Ramierez. The drone of the plane's jet engines gradually receeded, but by then something new and far more alarming had revealed itself to Ashino's sharp senses. "This is bad."

"What's bad?" Ramierez hissed, his posture tense as he slipped the radio from his belt and flicked it on.

"Multiple falling bodies... at least two dozen, most likely more. They're wearing parachutes and they look to be armed."

"Oh, fuck." Ramierez breathed. He held the radio to his lips. "Sir, we have a problem..."


	79. Cosmic Ruin part 1

Cyprus Finch had not been sleeping when the alarm had been called in by Ramierez. He didn't tend to sleep much during the night and never more than four hours at a time under even the most relaxed of circumstances during the day. It wasn't that he suffered from insomnia or even paranoia, though he had to admit that he was a very cautious and suspicious person, it was just he always found that there were more important things for him to be doing than sleeping. It had been hard at first, adjusting his body to the rigors of near continuous activity, but after years of strict personal discipline and training he found that he didn't even find it odd anymore. He'd been sitting by the recliner/bed where his friend of longest standing, Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory, formerly of the Hellhounds of EFSOU, much like Cyprus himself, was ensconsed, stationed in front of a table practically overflowing with stacks of viewscreens and forests of connecting cabling. A massive white bandage covered Glory's bare torso from armpits to waist, with especially thick padding under his left arm and along his left side, where the terrible entry wound from the .50 caliber slug he'd been shot with was still slowly healing. Glory was still on light and very limited duty, but he'd defiantly refused to be consinged to total bed rest and Cyprus had eventually caved in and allowed his friend to stand stationary watches like the one he now had, at the new security command center they'd hastily constructed in one of the long disused studies inside the mansion.

"Sir, we have a problem..." Ramierez said over the radio amplifier fixed to one wall, the tone of his voice leaving no doubt as to the severity of the situation. Cyprus glanced at one of the four clocks spaced throughout the room. 2341 was the time... just a little before midnight. A slightly unorthodox time for a night strike... he personally would have waited until after midnight, probably around 0300 or 0400... times when watches would have already been relieved uneventfully and even the most disciplined of soldiers would be slightly relaxed by the calmness of the night. But he considered that the planners of the attack probably had not been given their druthers with Cervantes calling the shots. He shook his head slightly in sadness but a smile came to his face at the same time. If Cervantes wanted to rush to his own doom, well, all the better. Glory reached out and tapped a large blue button on his master keyboard, instantly transmitting an alert signal to all the HUD's of the on watch Hellhounds as well as triggering a series of silent alarms in the rest of the house that would rouse the off duty soldiers and the rest of the household.

"Report." Cyprus commanded, his voice utterly calm as he stood up and began gathering his equipment from the racks along the wall.

"Multiple inbound hostiles... several dozen in number. Ashino heard a jet fly by overhead and then spotted the parajumpers a short while afterwards. Hold on..." Ramierez cut off for several seconds. "He says that their trajectory will take them into the water just where it gets deep off the eastern shore."

"That can't be all of them." Glory muttered, his brows creased. "They'd want at least three to one, if not four or five to one odds to have any sort of chance of victory." Cyprus laid a hand on his friend's shoulder to quiet him and nodded agreement that Glory could not see, concentrating as he was on the myriad camera views that appeared on the viewscreens.

"Tell him to look around more. There must be more than one group." Cyprus ordered. While Ramierez and Ashino were carrying out this order, Cyprus looked to Glory. "They'll be coming from both beaches in a pincer movement, with a support team landing elsewhere. It's a fairly standard set of maneuvers, and one of Asmodeus's favorites."

"You think Asmodeus is here?" Glory asked.

"He's the only person Cervantes would trust to lead an assassination mission like this one." Cyprus replied evenly. "Start activating the new cameras and get the uplink going. I want to be live before they get to our perimeter. Feed me the reports from Ramierez and Ashino as they come in, I'm going to go brief the young master and make sure there aren't any last second changes to the plan."

"Boy, Cervantes really blundered this time, didn't he?" Glory commented, half to himself as Cyprus walked briskly from the room without a single backwards glance. "Did he really expect us to just sit here and wait for him to come after us without coming up with a counter plan?" Glory started tapping commands into the new set of cameras they'd jury rigged during the past week while they waited for Cervantes to make his move. Every member of the Hellhounds now had a camera on their chest and on their helmet, and dozens more were scattered around the grounds and interior of the house. All these new cameras did not feed into the security system, but rather directly downloaded their feeds to one of the house computers, which compiled it and sent it in burst data transfers via undersea dataline to the Big Island of Hawaii, where another computer in a rented apartment decompiled it and uploaded it to every major newstation on Earth. "You wanna brush us under the carpet and make your mess go away... well, it ain't gonna happen, you goddamn madman." Glory muttered. "Let's see how you like having your little assassination attempt broadcast worldwide."

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Sai had been sleeping the sleep of mental exhaustion when his alarm clock suddenly activated itself with a thrumming vibration and series of muted but directed blue and red lights that flashed directly into his bleary eyes. He could tell it was still very dark outside and slowly his tired mind put together the situation from the facts. His alarm was going off when it shouldn't... it was still dark... and the peculiar sequence of flashing lights... "Oh god damn it all!" he sat bolt upright in the bed, disturbing Vanai, who'd been sleeping with one hand draped over his chest. Her eyes cracked open and she frowned in displeasure when she saw that it was still the middle of the night. Vanai was not someone who liked having her beauty rest disturbed.

"Wha' is it?" she murmured, reaching up with one hand to drag him back down into the covers. "No impor'ant. Tiireed." her voice was still heavily slurred from being only partially awake. Sai was saved from having to explain the situation when the door to the master bedroom opened and Cyprus Finch stepped through, already fully dressed in his body armor and Hellhound pattern BDU's, his weapons slung on his back and waist. The only detail missing was his hound faced battle mask, which he carried in the crook of one arm. Light from the hallway spilled into the comforting cave like darkness of the bedroom like a fat laser beam that cut staright into Sai's weary eyes, forcing him to turn his head away and blink out the glowing purple and blue spots. He grunted a complaint and clapped one hand to his face to rub away the residual headache while the other grabbed selfconsciously at the bedcovers, dragging them up to more fully cover himself and Vanai... in the tropics and especially in his own house in the tropics, he usually slept in the nude and tonight had been no exception, even without the extracurricular activites he usually indulged in with Vanai, which were quite out of the question given her pregenacy now.

"Sorry to wake you, sir... ma'am... but we have something of a situation." Cyprus informed them in a clipped voice.

"Lemme guess... the board called back again and wants to rehash the new agenda protocols again? I swear, those people must be robots... how they can function at a time like this, after days of exhaustive meetings is quite beyond..." Sai grumped.

"Little worse than that, actually." Cyprus interrupted. "Ashino and Ramierez spotted parajumpers inbound to the near vicinity of the island. Heavily armed parajumpers, in large groups."

"My father?" Vanai asked, from where she lay, mostly hidden by Sai. Usually it took her most of an hour to fully wake up in the morning, but the tone of Cyprus's voice had done wonders in focusing her mind. "No, never mind. Who else would it be?"

"We need to move you two to a more secure location. My people are preparing the broadcast room as we speak. You should both get dressed." Cyprus advised. Sai nodded agreement and started to get out of bed. He stopped a second later, remembering that he was quite naked, as was Vanai.

"Uhm... I don't suppose I could ask you to turn around?" Sai asked Cyprus. The bodyguard gave him a level stare.

"Sir, ma'am, I'm your bodyguard. Emphasis on "Body" and "Guard". I can't do my job very well if I'm not watching you and the area around you for danger. I've seen women naked and men naked. More of either than both of you combined. Trust me, neither of you will shock me with nudity. And you needn't feel embarrassed... who am I going to tell?"

"Makes sense." Sai allowed. "Doesn't make it easy though." He slipped off the covers and stood up, then moved over to one of several dressers around the room. He tried to be nonchalant, but found himself unable to look back at Cyprus to see the expression on his friend's face. And he dressed very, very quickly.

"If it'll make you feel any better, once we have some time, you can ask Thomas to relate to you the story of the mission where he and I had to infiltrate a rival political group that only held its meetings at nudist beaches. Then you'll realize that you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about." Cyprus told them, his voice inflection completely unchanged. Within three minutes Sai and Vanai had managed to get dressed, though Vanai still felt she looked like a mess, as she did not have time to do her hair or apply makeup or any other the other myriad tasks that allowed women to be ready to face the public world, but with Cyprus there practically pushing them along she wasn't exactly spoiled for choice. The interior hallways of the mansion, the ones that did not have any windows to the outside world, were brightly lit and busy, with various members of the household live in staff and ex-Hellhounds moving around in urgent but directed chaos. Sai knew without seeing that any hallways or rooms with exterior windows would still be dark and silent, to give the incoming enemy the impression that they were still quite undetected.

They passed the study where Cyprus had had his soldiers set up a new security command center for the household and its grounds to replace the old one in the bunker outside the house, the location of which was sure to be well known to any enemy forces. Sai shook his head... it was still hard for him to consider the fact that other members of Blue Cosmos were now the enemy and would be trying their best to kill him and his friends. He tightened his resolve and found his teeth gritting in a harsh frown. He hadn't started this fight, but by all that was holy, he'd sure as hell finish it. If his father in law thought he was just going to roll over and let the assassins kill him, he had a nasty surprise coming. Finally, they reached their destination, in the second basement level of the mansion. Before they'd come back from Panama it had been a secondary storage room, unopened and unused for years, filled with old construction materials leftover from the last time the live in staff had had to make some emergency repairs to the house.

The Hellhounds under Cyprus hadn't had long, only a little more than a week, but they had done what they could to transform the room from a disused storeroom to a secure bunker. The single door had been replaced with a much more durable model with several locks and other securing mechanisms. The walls had been shored up and the ceiling braced in case heavy weapons were brought to bear on the mansion above. It was nowhere near as secure as some household bunkers, like several the Attha family owned in Orb, or even the original security bunker that Cervantes had put in, but it was the best they could get. The old bunker's access codes had to be considered compromised and so it was unusable. The bare concrete walls and floors of the storeroom-bunker had been hastily covered in carpet and thin wooden paneling to facilitate the secondary usage of the room. At the far end of the room from the door a speakers podium had been set up, with an enormous banner depicting the symbol of the Isolationists... a grey battlemented wall with a Blue Earth rampart... hanging behind it. Dozens of cameras, recording systems and broadcasting systems were crammed in along the walls of the room with their fields of view overlapping in such a manner that the entirety of the room was covered. Sai and Vanai wasted no time in moving over to the podium and taking up their positions behind it.

Cyprus crossed to one of the banks of computers arrayed along the walls and punched in several commands, bringing the wide screens of several closed circuit TV's flickering to life. The images broadcast to those TV's came from the external security system, plus the security system of the mansion above. What Sai and Vanai saw there was enough to draw a gasp of shock from Vanai and a further tightening of the lips and clenched fists from Sai.

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Ashino and Ramierez stayed out on the upper level balcony for as long as they could, while Ashino searched out the extent of the descending enemy forces to the best of his ability and Ramierez acted as his link to the rest of the security forces. Besides the initial group that he'd spotten inbound to the eastern shore, Ashino also located a similar group dropping to the west of the mansion's shoreline and a possible third group that might have landed somewhere to the north of the mansion, in amongst the thick jungles along the higher elevations of the small island. After nearly a minute with no more sightings of the enemy, they were ordered by Cyprus to get to their preassigned defensive positions and prepare for emminent enemy contact. Ashino didn't precisely have a preassigned position, being outside the command structure of the ex-Hellhounds, so he just stuck by Ramierez, whose position was outside in the inland facing gardens. The pre-prepared position was basically just a hole in the ground with a cleverly disguised trapdoor covered in sod to make it blend with the rest of the garden lawn.

Inside the hole-position was a pair of automatic rifles with several boxes of magazines, along with twice as many handguns, also with ammunition. A dug out shelf in one side of the hole, which covered a medium sized man like Ramierez to just below his shoulders when he stood upright at the bottom, held a rack of two dozen grenades of various types, ranging from the standard high explosive or fragmentary to smoke and flash bangs. The hole also contained a portable medkit and a landline phone that connected to the radios the security team carried, allowing secure, unjammable comunications to the rest of the mansion and its outlying defenses. Ashino, being shorter than Ramierez by several inches, was forced to claw out several footholds in one of the clay-dirt walls of the hole so that he could see out. He kept watch while Ramierez struggled into his body armor and weapons, keeping a constant stream of muttered oaths going as he fumbled in the darkness of the cloudy night. At last the Hellhound settled the last of his gear into place and dropped his battle mask over his face and head and then it was Ashino's turn to get ready while Ramierez kept watch.

There was no body armor for Ashino, due to his odd size... most soldiers were not a tad bit under five feet tall, with massively muscled limbs and torsos. There was some armor from one of the smaller females that almost fit him, but it was so incredibly tight across his arms and chest he always felt like he was stuffed in a rubber sack when he was wearing it, so he generally didn't wear it. By no means did he consider himself above the need to worry about bullets or shrapnel... his skin was tough, but it was still just skin... but neither did he enjoy the loss of freedom of movement he suffered while in the armor. His rifle and pistol were back in his room in the mansion, there'd been no time to retrieve them on the way out, so instead he'd grabbed up two of the pistols and plenty of replacement magazines. His knife was sheathed at his back, like it was every waking moment. His final accoutrement was a speaker headset that patched into the comm net of the security team.

"This is Ramierez, I'm in position. Situation is green. I have Ashino with me." Ramierez reported as Ashino stepped into his footholds and peered out past the ex-Hellhound's shoulder.

"Roger that, Corporal, situation green, Ashino with you." the bass voice of Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory crackled over the commnet. "Lt, sir, all forces are in position. No enemy contact."

"Stand by. ETA of OppFor is one point three minutes." Lieutenant Cyprus Finch replied tersely. "Ashino, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Asmodeus is likely to be leading the enemy." Cyprus pointed out.

"You needn't worry, Lieutenant, I was never loyal to that man. I respected him at times, but never more than that." Ashino replied.

"That's not quite what I meant. If I know Asmodeus, he won't be relying on just numerical superiority to win this battle. Not when he has other resources at his command." Cyprus said. Ashino swallowed hard.

"Ah, yes. Naturally, he would bring Frost along on an important mission like this. The soldiers are just to keep us busy. I'll do what I can, but please remember, Frost is considerably more powerful than I am and my ability to stand against him will be very limited." Ashino informed them.

"Just try your best." Sai's voice cut into the conversation. "I cannot ask or expect you to do any more than that, Ashino my friend. Just remember though... our goal is not to kill them all... when this battle is won, it will not be because the enemy is dead."

"Sai..." Ashino shook his head. "I still feel that this entire plan is somewhat..."

"Flimsy?" Sai supplied. "Fanciful?"

"Reckless." Ashino answered. "Asmodeus and especially Frost will not hesitate to kill you, on public TV or not. You cannot even be sure Cervantes will care... the man did not hesitate to kill tens of thousands in Orb in order to try and kill his enemies there. I just cannot imagine a little more bad publicity would matter to him."

"It's not the amount of publicity that matters... it is who sees it that is important. Even in Orb, that tragedy of tragedies, Cervantes could claim that the Merciless acted on its own initiative. That was a far more public event than this and yet he still remained in power because he had deniability. He was able to deflect much of the blame to the Earth Alliance Military. Even now, he seeks to fade into the background, to allow public sentiment to be aimed at the Alliance as a whole, rather than just him individually. The one thing he cannot withstand right now is to be in the public eye unfavorably. His friends and supporters in the high echelons of power are itching to betray him... but they cannot hang him out to dry just yet, as the public still, by and large, likes him. Until he loses the protection of public favor, we cannot hurt him." Sai explained. "And sending his personal assistant to assassinate me is not something hes going to be able to deny, especially when Asmodeus is recognized on public TV."

"Still, Sai... it's going to be very hard to capitalize on Cervantes's disgrace if your head has been ripped from your body by Frost." Ashino countered. Sai chuckled briefly and Ashino could almost see the slight shrug of his friend's shoulders.

"I won't deny theres quite a bit of risk to my plan... but I have faith in your ability to protect me and Vanai. I have faith in all of you, my friends." Sai said quietly and then signed off the channel. A few seconds of shared companionable silence ensued.

"This is PFC Gomer, on the east side. Enemy contact! Enemy cont..." the blurt of noise cut out in a explosion of static, followed almost instantly by a plume of smoke and fire from the east side of the mansion. "Goddamn grenade launchers!" Gomer spat over the line a moment later. "Sir, I have multiple inbound hostiles, more than a dozen in number. They came up from the beach and are advancing towards me in good order."

"This is PFC Khan, balcony three. I see the force assaulting Gomer. Headcount is fifteen plus, armed with automatic rifles and at least two grenade launchers. Engaging to support."

"Corporal Bass, west side blind. I have a second force inbound. They've passed through the minefield without casualties and are approx. one fifty meters from my position and closing at stalking speed. I saw one grenade launcher and what looked like a medium SAW (squad assault weapon), plus standard small arms. I also got a visual on enemy insignia. Sir, OppFor is MAGOS. Repeat, OppFor is MAGOS."

"Fucking Marines?" Glory snorted. "They called in the goddamn cowboys this time."

Ashino's sensitive ears picked up a muted "whoosh" sound, accompanied by a rapidly growing whine. His eyes widened in instant recognition and he wasted no time on words, instead grabbing Ramierez by the shoulder and pulling him down to cover in the hole. Bare seconds later a surface to surface missile of the kind that was fired by a team carried multiple missile launcher streaked by about ten feet overheard before impacting on the front doors of the house, blasting the finely carved doors into kindling and collapsing the columns that flanked the entranceway with a roar of cracking stone.

"Evidence of enemy heavy weapon support." Ramierez reported once he'd recovered from the shock of being bodily manhandled like a baby by a man several inches shorter than him. "They've got a Hydra launcher set up on the elevation somewhere. Be prepared for multiple inbound missiles."

"Ramierez!" Cyprus snapped, clearing the line of the other communications for a moment. "Did you see where the missile came from? We need to neutralize that heavy support ASAP!"

"Sorry sir, I didn't see the origin point. Ashino detected it before I did." Ramierez answered.

"I do not know the exact spot, but I could get close." Ashino added instantly. Before the conversation could progress any further, evidence of more heavy weapon support became evident. A laser-like beam of bright red tracer fire seared by the hole, hundreds of hyper-velocity bullets chewing a path of destruction through the garden like a buzzsaw running along the ground before the enemy gunner walked the fire into the house, blasting out windows in showers of glass splinters and shredding every exterior room on the first floor of the north side of the house. "That's a gatling weapon of some kind." Ashino commented, stating the obvious, ducking back down before the machine gunner could notice the head poking out of the hole in the garden lawn.

"Ashino... Ramierez... I need you to take out those heavy weapons! If we don't neutralize those, our defenses will be destroyed in less than an hour. I'll be out in a minute or two to replace you. Cyprus out."

"So wait... he wants the two of us to assault an entire enemy emplacement?" Ashino asked, his eyes wide.

"I'm not particularly happy about it either. But when the Lt asks me to do something for him, I'm gonna damn well give it my best shot." Ramierez replied. "He's right anyway... if we don't get rid of those weapons up there, defending the house will be pointless. This hole won't do a damn thing to protect us from a missile launcher and we'll never be able to mount any sort of effective counter assault with a gatling weapon like that covering the open ground."

Ashino found himself smirking suddenly. He'd been shocked at the difficulty of the mission, but then he recalled that was he not the person who'd been flung from a destroyed mobile suit, floated across most of half an ocean and then fought and killed a Coordinator spy? What was a simple assault mission compared to that ordeal? "I guess that leaves only one question. Do you want the frags or the HE grenades?"

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Asmodeus stood with Captain Kiffon and watched the missile team blow the front doors off the house while the gatling gunner annihilated any possible defenders taking cover in the exterior rooms on the whole north side of the mansion's first floor. Two other heavy weapon specialists, armed with modified .50 caliber sniper rifles, hunted for targets of opportunity on the grounds or in the yet untouched second and third floor exterior facing rooms. Meanwhile, the command squad spread out in defensive positions, digging shallow trenches to lie in or building mounds of dirt to shelter behind, with a deeper hole being dug for a sort of command center, where the comm man was already setting up his tactical communications network. With a few more key taps, the comm man extended an antennae from the top of his comm set. "Sir, jamming is commencing." He reported. Moments later a green icon blinked into existence on his computer screen. "Jamming is in effect, sir. One hundred percent of all outbound comms are blocked and ninety four percent of all inbounds blocked as well."

"Work on those inbounds, sergeant." Captain Kiffon ordered firmly. "This is a black op and I demand a total comm blackout."

"Aye, sir." the man replied. "Sir, news from Broadsword and Trident teams. They have engaged the enemy. Broadsword team encountered a mine field, but passed through without incident. Enemy resistance is heavy, but concentrated. As expected, there are only a few positions firing upon us. No casualties yet."

"It's time to finish this." Asmodeus whispered. He turned to where Frost was standing, staring up at the sky, apparently completely unconcerned with the mission. Without approaching too closely, he unstrapped the batteries from around his waist and tossed them to the BCPU, who let them land in the dirt by his feet. "Frost. Frost!" Asmodeus snapped. _Damned monster can choose the worst times to zone out._

"I know." Frost replied lazily. He continued to stare up at the sky. "I'm soaking in the moment. Can't you just feel destiny charging the air around you, Asmodeus? Something very important is going to happen tonight. Something which will have consequences you cannot even imagine." He tilted his head down so his gaze met that of Asmodeus's helmet and grinned wolfishly. "Poor Asmodeus... so in the dark... so lost... so confused. You're just a pawn, caught up in the games of people of far greater consequence than you."

Asmodeus raised his rifle and sighted in on Frost's head. "I didn't ask for a meglomaniacal rant, Frost. Now hop to it, or all the people will be dead before you get down there."

Frost shrugged and picked up the batteries, slamming the heavy cylinders home into the grips of his chain-machetes. "Oh, Asmodeus... if only you could understand... we're not so unalike, you and I. But I can see for myself and you are just content to be blindly led." He shrugged again, and settled his grip on his weapons, which thrummed to life, the pressure sensitive triggers reacting to his grip.

"Movement!" one of the snipers suddenly called, his weapon firing with a loud "crack-slam" as the massive shell case flipped out of the discharge port along the side, sending the bullet flying at whatever its target was at more than one and a half times the speed of sound. The sniper snarled a muttered expletive and fired twice more. "Fucker moved fast!" the sniper complained. "I think I may have winged him with that last shot, but I can't be sure."

"Three shots, three misses? You need some more time on the range, Lance Corporal." Captain Kiffon commented with a frown, displeased at a bad showing in front of Captain Asmodeus Sark, arguably the most famous and respected Special Forces commander in all the Earth Alliance.

"That was no Natural, sir." The sniper replied. "He was out of his position and into the cover of the trees in less than a second and a half, and its a good twenty meter run across broken ground. No man moves that fast... though I've seen Coordinators do it."

"The brief didn't mention Coordinator involvement..." Kiffon said leadingly, looking over his shoulder at Asmodeus. Asmodeus returned the glare levelly.

"Even if Sai has fallen far enough as to be working with the Coordinators, it doesn't change anything. We have with us a most perfect anti-coordinator weapon. Frost... it would be a nice bonus if you could bring us the head of the Coordinator, along with Sai's."

"No sooner said than done, Asmodeus." Frost replied with a mocking half bow, before taking off into the jungle at a sprint, moving so fast that most of the MAGOS soldiers saw only a confusing blur of movement.

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Watching the battle outside on the TV's was one of the most surreal things Sai had ever experienced. It was like watching an action movie, but he knew a lot of the people involved and he knew that everything was actually happening... but for all that, it still seemed like it was happening somewhere else, someplace far removed from him. As far beneath the mansion as the soundproofed room was, they hadn't even heard the explosion of the missile taking out the front doors, though they'd been able to watch it on Ramierez's cameras. In some ways it reminded him of his time aboard the Archangel, where he had been in charge of sensors and electronic warfare. During all the battles he'd been focused on his screens, even though the battle was happening right around him, shaking him and blinding him with explosive flashes of light... he still hadn't really been part of the battle. He'd never pulled a trigger or fired a weapon... just pointed them out so others could do so. Just like now... he wasn't the one fighting... he was just pointing out the enemy so the fighters could do their job. Sai gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, fighting with the insane urge to go out and do what he could to help the beleaguered soldiers above.

"No casualties yet. We have the advantage of pre-built fortifications and knowledge of the terrain." Cyprus noted calmly. "They have numbers and unless Ramierez and Ashino do something about it, heavy weapons that will be able to nullify our advantages in a reasonably short time." He paused a moment, watching the view from Ramierez's camera judder and shake as he hauled ass towards the treeline after breaking out from his hole-position by using a flash bang grenade to temporarily blind the snipers who were undoubtedly using night vision scopes on their rifles. The snipers had nearly gotten Ashino and Ramierez was clearly less sanguine about his ability to evade enemy fire simply by relying on his reflexes.

"Sir, our outside comms are being jammed. No outbound or inbound transmissions will be able to make it through until someone does something about whatever jamming device they're using." a harsh burst of static underlined every word Glory spoke on the house intercomm.

"It's being taken care of, Sergeant-Major." Cyprus replied, unruffled. He stared at an unblinking green light on one of the computer screens arrayed against the wall. He smiled ever so slightly. "Aerial jamming is all very well and good, but its very damned hard to jam a landline without physically severing it... and if they were going to break the line they would have already done it."

Sai was just starting to feel reassured when three of the smaller screens that filled boxes on a larger display screen suddenly turned black. His stomach churned... he knew what that meant. Three soldiers... men and women who believed in him and his cause... had just perished for their beliefs. "Goddamn it!" Glory swore. "Fuckers dropped a missile right onto Balcony East... they never knew what hit them. Sir, we gotta get the fucking heavy support down NOW!"

"It's being taken care of, Sergeant-Major." Cyprus repeated, his voice completely unchanged. He snapped his mask down over his face. "Master Sai, please, stay in this room and do not open the door for anyone but me or Thomas. I'm going to lock it after I leave. There's a pair of pistols on the top shelf of the podium. I pray to god you'll never need to use them, but it never hurts to be cautious."

"Be careful Cyprus." Sai admonished, not even trying to dissuade his friend from going. For one, it would be pointless and maybe even counterporductive... for another, how could Sai order someone to stay when he himself so dearly wanted to go, even though he knew he'd only be a liability. "Don't do anything crazy. I'm going to need a bodyguard for a long time." _Man, that sounds so cold..._

Cyprus may have smiled... it was impossible to tell through his mask of course. Still, to Sai he sounded faintly amused. "Just who do you think you're talking to, sir? I've no intention of dying... I've a lot staked on the new world of peace you're going to bring about... I'm going to be around to see it, you can count on that." With those words he swung his rifle around to a tactical carry position and stepped confidently out the door, shutting it behind him with a firm click followed by the sound of a key faintly turning in a lock.

"What did I ever do to deserve all this?" Sai whispered, staring unseeing at the wall. A small flicker of color on one screen drew his attention... another square had turned dark. Sai's blood suddenly ran a few degrees cooler... from the ID tag on the corner of the box he figured the location of where the soldier was stationed... and that soldier, the one who'd just been killed... was one of the soldiers stationed inside the mansion. The enemy were already inside the house.

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MAGOS team 5 had infiltrated the building while the other teams kept the defenders pinned down, diving straight for the enemy heart like a dagger plunging through flesh, a surgical attack designed to end the fight quickly by ripping the support guts out of the entire enemy defense. The seven members of the team padded quickly through the surprisingly empty mansion, shooting out every camera they came across in an effort to compromise any still operating security system that the jamming hadn't rendered useless. MAGOS soldiers spent endless hours practicing urban combat, including building to building and even room to room scenarios, and so the soldiers had their strategy down pat. Upon coming to a doorway, shut or open, the point man would stop just short, while two other teammates would line up just behind him. Two more soldiers would take out grenades, one flash bang and one frag grenade, which were bounced into the room at an angle with practised flicks of their hands. After the twin blasts, the three just outside the door would sprint in, covering left, right and center, laser sighted rifles probing in precise sweeps for any movement. There were no warnings and no mercy granted. Unarmed household staff cowering in corners were gunned down or blasted to shreds with the same prejudice as the soldiers displayed for two wounded but ambulatory Hellhounds guarding an interior storeroom containing medical supplies.

Team 5 cleared twelve rooms in a little under eight minutes with these tactics, until they finally reached a long interior hallway that ran down the middle of the house like a spine. There was a room just ahead on the right, from which came the glow of many computer screens and the low hum of electronics. The team 5 leader smiled grimly... plainly this was a room of some importance, maybe even a command center. Maybe even THE command center, the one that would contain the target. With a quick series of hand signals, his team lined up in standard order once more, in almost total silence. Just instants before they commenced their routine though, cruel reality burst in and ruined everything. Thomas Glory was quite well versed in the hostile room entry scenarios practiced by EA soldiers... he'd after all practiced in most of them for long, long hours as well. And while the MAGOS soldiers were quiet... they weren't silent... and in Glory's experience, the distinction made all the difference in the world. Soon as he heard the first back bump gently up against the wall outside the door to the study, he twisted his recliner chair around and snagged a heavy automatic shotgun from where it was leaning against a nearby table. Wounded as he was, his body wasn't strong enough to handle the recoil of a grenade launcher or minigun or heavy machine gun... but a little shotgun was nothing to a man as big as Glory, especially well braced in a sitting position.

Glory didn't wait for the enemy to make the first move or even come into view. He closed his eyes briefly and pictured how the soldiers would be lined up and aimed accordingly. The shotgun was loaded with heavy caliber deer slugs, not buckshot, and the heavy slugs penetrated the unarmored wall like it was made of straw. The body armor the MAGOS soldiers wore didn't do much to slow them down either... or the bodies of the MAGOS soldiers for that matter. The shotgun roared and bucked in Glory's hands like a living thing as he hosed it back and forth, not bothering to conserve the twenty four round magazine, there being plenty more stacked underneath his chair. By the time team leader 5 figured out what was going on, three of his teammates were dead, their chests blasted apart and their corpses thrown across the hall in explosions of blood and viscera. A fourth was badly wounded, his leg blown off at mid thigh by an errant slug, areterial gore pumping out in a bright fountain as he lay screaming on the ground. Gritting his teeth, the team leader swung around the doorway, his weapon at tactical present, the butt snuggled up against his shoulder and his head pressed down close so that wherever he looked, so did the weapon. He just had enough time to comprehend the mountainous man reclining in a big chair in the middle of the room holding a smoking shotgun in his hands when his own head exploded, courtesy of a three shot burst fired from down the hall.

Cyprus Finch didn't bother to wait for the headless body to fall, he shot through the spurts of blood that jetted from the ravaged neck of the MAGOS soldier, another three shot burst that struck another surpised MAGOS soldier just above the collar of his armor but below the chin of his own combat mask, blowing his throat out in a messy slurry of pulped flesh and shattered bone. In a fluid movement Cyprus dropped to one knee and rolled sideways, clearing his line of fire once more, his next shots blew up through the groin of the man with the severed leg, the hollow point bullets exploding inside his lower abdomen with predictable results. By now the last remaining member of team 5 was shooting back, but he was extremely disoriented by the sudden and savage loss of the entire rest of his team, and his shots streaked high and wide, blowing a line of splintered craters along the wall where Cyprus had stood when he came out of the basement stairway at the end of the hall. Cyprus took his time and aimed a single shot that went through the eyepiece of the soldier and turned the upper half of his head to mush. As he rose, Cyprus reloaded and swept the hallway with his eyes... no more hostiles were in sight.

"I guess they forgot we do STS's (Standard Training Scenario's) too." Glory commented quietly, when Cyprus looked in through the doorway. He rapidly reloaded the shotgun and then turned back to his computer screens. "We've lost six, sir. Khan and Gomer among them. Damn missile launcher is hell on static defenses. We're starting to get pushed back... East side entrance reports at least twenty hostiles mustering for a big push about thirty meters outside their position. We've only got three guys there, sir, one of them walking wounded."

"Tell them I'm on my way. And tell everyone else on East side to muster on the East stairs, second level. That includes the three at East Entrance." Cyprus ordered.

"Ah, you're going to booby trap the door... damned clever sir, but won't they be expecting..." Glory started to say.

"Tell them to leave the doorway and their position clean. And I want them seen retreating." Cyprus cut him off.

"I don't understand... you're just going to give them the position and a way inside?" Glory was almost visibly scratching his head in puzzlement.

"Hopefully they won't understand either. Send the order." Cyprus commanded. Glory shrugged and whispered into his throat mic, utterly trusting his friend. Not that he really had much of a choice... if the three guys at East Entrance didn't pull back they were just going to get overwhelmed and slaughtered anyway. "Listen up East side... the LT's got some sort of plan..."

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Ashino grabbed Ramierez and dragged him fully into the cover of the trees as sniper fire gouged miniature craters in the soft sod of the garden lawn just a few feet behind the prone scout, who had slipped just short of full cover. The flash bang had done its job in blinding the snipers for a few seconds, but it still almost hadn't been enough to cover the ground. Ramierez was panting heavily and just lay there for a moment. "Twenty meters... open ground... I should be dead..." Ashino shrugged, recalling the bullet that had almost creased his sleeve just as he'd dived into the welcome cover of the thick jungle trees. It had been closer than he would have liked too, but he didn't have time to dwell on it now, as another missile streaked by overhead, plowing into the third story balcony on the east side of the mansion and blowing it to flaming splinters, sending at least one body cartwheeling through the air in smouldering pieces. "FUCK!" Ramierez swore as he clawed his way to his feet. "We gotta..." He never got to finish the sentence.

With a whine like a buzzsaw wielded by god himself, a solid laser-like beam of reddish-orange tracers cut through the forest canopy a few meters ahead of them and chewed through several slim trees in explosions of seared sap and scorched wood chips. The gatling gunner knew her business... while the tree cover hid the enemy from the view and thus the wrath of the snipers... she could just saturate the area with bullets and eventually she'd hit something. She swerved her fire back in forth in short arcs, probing it through the treeline where the enemy soldiers had disappeared from view like a woman with a garden hose might while watering hard to reach plants in an overgrown garden. She fired in bursts of a thousand rounds or so to avoid overheating her barrels and to give time for the enemy to think the barrage was over and leave cover, if they were stupid.

Neither Ramierez nor Ashino were stupid... but nor were they spoiled for much choice either. They had to disrupt the enemy heavy weapons, or the defenders at the mansion would be picked apart like fine meat at a delicatessen. Ashino thrashed through the undergrowth on his hands and knees, slithering along uphill faster than a man could jog, always staying low to avoid the intermittent bursts of gunfire, which were mostly aimed at waist height or a little lower. The highest point on the isle was only at about twenty meters of elevation, but that twenty meters stretched out over at least a mile from the beach and house. It was a long and frustrating crawl, with long puases forced every half minute or so while hyper-velocity bullets whipcracked through the air inches above his head and back or else smashed out small smoking craters in the dirt or foliage around and in front of him. Several times he was nicked or grazed by rounds that just wouldn't let him get low enough to avoid, but they were a minor pain and even less of a distraction. During one such forward crawl, Ashino clearly heard the sound of chainsaws resounding from somewhere nearby, but before he could pinpoint the location or the source of the noise, he was forced to stop and duck again by another burst of bullets. This time though, he was close enough to see the gun itself as it spun, illuminated by two foot long muzzle flashes.

Ramierez hadn't made nearly as much forward progress, as he'd been forced to move in short dashes, unable to crawl fast enough or low enough to maintain Ashino's near continuous forward motion. He too heard the chainsaws, but had even less of an idea where they might have been coming from, given how the jungle at night tended to distort sounds, even without all the distractions of the gunfire and whatnot. Still, he was close enough to make out the enemy position as well, using the scope on his rifle. They were well dug in, utilizing good cover. There were at least fifteen of them up there, including the two snipers, the gatling gunner and the missile crew, who were even now prepping to fire another wire guided missile at some defensive position down at the house. Ramierez scowled... he couldn't get much closer undetected, and if he was spotted he was going to be pinned down at best, if not immediately shot full of holes. "How the fuck...?" He muttered to himself angrily. His unspoken question was answered for him moments later. Ashino had taken the HE grenades and he popped up like a jack in the box on x16 fast forward, just as the gatling gunner was letting off from a barrage, his fingers in the process of relaxing from the triggers. In even the smallest motions, inertia makes a difference, and it took the soldier a fractional second longer to halt the offward motion of his fingers and press the triggers again than it would to just have triggered them from rest.

In that time, Ashino flipped the grenade forward like a pitcher throwing a fastball, a hard, straight line drive of a throw that cleanly intersected the fire line of the gatling gun. Bullets from the spinning machine gun struck the grenade just inches from the muzzles and the metallic sphere exploded, triggered by the hard and sharp impacts. The explosion peeled the gatling gun barrels back like copper straws and the concussive force of impact was enough to toss the gunner over backwards even from her kneeling position, while the flash of light and boom of noise was enough to distract almost everyone else in the enemy position. In the second or so it took for the MAGOS soldiers and Ramierez to clear their eyes and ears, two people had already reacted to the explosion. One of them was Ashino, who charged forward, pistol in either hand barking out steady streams of shots that dropped two of the dug in command squad as they stood there blinking in their hides. By the time the enemy realized what was happing, he was among them. The other person who was not slowed in the slightest by the grenade was, perhaps predictably, Asmodeus. As soon as he saw the grenade, even though he didn't see who threw it, he had dropped and rolled, shielding his eyes and ears from the explosion and by the time he actually felt the explosion he was already aiming his rifle at the figure darting into the middle of his command post.

Ramierez was a career soldier, in one of the most elite fighting units ever to exist. Among those men and women, he was a scout, used to the up close and personal brawls of infiltration combat. The number of people Richard Ramierez couldn't take on in hand to hand or close range combat could be numbered on two hands without using up all the fingers. Even so, he would never just jump into the middle of an enemy command post with guns smoking, like Ashino had just done. Its was plain fucking suicide... even in action movies, people got fucked up doing shit like that. But then again, he'd never watched a BCPU fight before. He found himself just staring at what was happening on top of the hill, though he did have the sense to stare through his scope, so that when an opportunity presented itself, he was already in position to take advantage of it.

Ashino felt the combat stimulants and synethized adrenaline pumping through his blood in full flow. The world itself seemed to be made from poured crystal and everything was so slow and sharply defined. Each spent shell casing ejected from his pistols traced its own spiralling line of smoke and fumes through the night air. He saw the MAGOS soldiers all around him beginning to react to his presence, but they were too slow by almost half a second. Two he dropped even as he entered the camp, single tap, right between the eyes. He bounced into a front flip and put three rounds into the chest and gut of the gatling gunner, who was just clawing her way to her knees again. The close range pistol fire shredded the light armor vest the woman wore and her chest underneath as well, though not badly enough to kill her right off. Landing from the flip, which left him with his back to the wrecked gatling gun, Ashino collapsed to his knees and dived right, putting another three rounds into the knees of one of the men huddled by the missile launcher, dumping the man to the ground, screaming horribly. Two low caliber but high speed bullets grazed Ashino's own chest in mid dive, the bullets did not penetrate but the impacts would likely have cracked the ribs of a human. Ashino just grunted and ignored the bruises, which would fade within hours.

"Damn Coordinator monster scumbag!" Captain Kiffon screamed, snatching at the rifle on his back, trying to drag it around into a combat position. He stepped forward even as he finally got the weapon into his grip, aiming down at where Ashino was even then rolling up from his dive. "I'll teach you to..." his sentence was cut off when a precision double tap from Ramierez hit him on the nape of the neck and severed his spine along with most of his neck. The Captain had stepped out of cover in his haste to make a shot... never a good switch off, in Ramierez's position. Not a mistake the man would be making again. Of course now the enemy knew there were multiple attackers, and fire started spraying his way as well, forcing him to duck down as divots suddenly appeared in the trunks all around him and spent rounds rustled through the undergrowth on downhill slides.

Ashino took advantage of the split attentions of the soldiers to kill three more with his remaining pistol rounds. Tossing the empty weapons aside, Ashino darted forward, towards one of the snipers, who was even then swinging his bulky weapon around in a vain attempt to defend himself. Ashino ducked in close, blocking the barrel of the sniper rifle wide with one arm while his other hand, fingers bent into claws, ripped the throat of the man out. Without waiting for the man to choke to death, Ashino kneed him hard in the groin and tore the .50 caliber rifle out of his slack hands, letting the spasming body pitch backwards and spinning the massive weapon around to point at the other sniper, still lying on the ground, trusting to his comrades to protect him while he did his duty. Misplaced trust, in this case. At such close range, the mammoth .50 caliber sniper bullet didn't so much as kill the prone sniper as blow him to shreds... everything upwards of the hips was just plain gone. Two more bullets struck Ashino, one more glancing across his back and one that actually struck home in the flesh on his arm, drawing a hiss of pain and a languid spurt of rapidly clotting blood. He spun around and swung the .50 cal rifle like a club, directly into the skull of yet another soldier who'd been coming at him with a knife. There was a moist crunch and the man dropped, the gun barrel warped and embedded halfway through his brainpan.

By this point in time, Asmodeus had recognized the dervish wreaking havoc in his command post, and to say the least, he was not pleased with the surprise of finding Ashino not only alive and well, but now working at cross purposes with Asmodeus and the true members of Blue Cosmos. He never would have thought such a thoroughly indoctrinated member of Blue Cosmos would turn against the organization, against everything they had been created for, but the evidence was impossible to dismiss. As the kill count mounted, despite his own attempts to stop the BCPU, Asmodeus started to slip away, but not before he carefully threw a camouflage netting over the comm jammer, which had been knocked over early in the fight but was still operating. With any luck, it would go unnoticed in the confusion. Already more than three quarters of the command and heavy weapons teams were dead or disabled, with only the missile team still frantically trying to fire their squad carried weapon even as Ashino closed in on them, bared knife in hand. One of those men suddenly twitched and fell away, his head mostly blown away by whomever was supporting Ashino from out in the woods, and Asmodeus reminded himself to stay down and low on his way to the mansion... no sense in ending a life like his with his brains around his ankles. He turned at the treeline and flicked his weapon to full auto, spraying fire out into the forest from where the support fire was coming from before fading away into the forest, mind boiling over with thoughts.

Ramierez threw himself down as a splurt of automatic fire sprayed through the forest around him, one bullet, unaimed but lucky, catching him high on one shoulder with the force of a hammerblow. He'd be feeling that one in the morning. _Thank god for body armor..._ He crawled forward a few feet, but when the fire died off he got up again and continued hustling forward... he'd lost sight of Ashino and any remaining enemies and he couldn't just let the little guy go it alone, no matter how frighteningly capable he seemed. Besides, he had to ensure that the heavy weapons were inoperable. He reached the position just as the fight reached its climax. Cornered and outmatched, the final member of the missile crew had turned from his own defense to defiantly slam a palm down on the trigger of the Hyrda multiple missile launcher, firing the missile at its last programmed target... the East side doorway position, currently manned by three Hellhounds. The man died even as he activated the missile, Ashino's knife bured in his heart, but the missile leapt from its tube on a tail of flame, reeling out a thin monofilament cable for in flight guidance behind it. In a move so fast and just insane that Ramierez could barely believe he saw it, even after the fight, Ashino snatched a gun from the ground and jerked forward, sweeping it in a short loop... actually twisting the loose slack of the monofilament wire around the stock of the gun. With a superhuman grunt of effort, Ashino jerked the gun to the side even as the line went taut. Before the wire sheered through the resistance of the gun, Ashino's beyond human pull managed to make the missile veer slightly... enough so that it missed short by nearly thirty meters, gouging out an impressive crater but nothing else.

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The First Sergeant who'd confronted Asmodeus aboard the plane gently craned his head around the corner of one of the outbuildings of the mansion... one of several outdoor equipment stoarge sheds that contained gardening tools and the like. He was just in time to frown in anger when the expected missile landed short and ineffective. He muttered a curse on all inept heavy weapon soldiers under his breath... could never rely on the bastards to hit the broad side of a FUCKING barn with a guided FUCKING missile! However, he was also in time to see the enemy soldiers turn tail and rabbit back inside the mansion, completely abandoning their positions. He tried to lean out and snap off a few shots, but his fire only managed to blow a few more divots in the already ripped up doors. "Top?" one of the other team leaders asked from behind him, where teams 2, 4 and 6 were crouched, readying themselves for the assault charge on the enemy position.

"They're getting tricksy, the bastards." the First Sergeant replied, sweeping his gaze around what he could see of the enemy position. It was a trap. It had to be a trap. The enemy had hung on like bastards till just now... a sudden retreat made no sense at all. He keyed his mic. "Sir, this is the Top. The enemy have abandoned their position... by the way, you and I need to talk about that missile crew... and apparently retreated. It must be... sir? Sir... are you there? Sir? SIR!?" He heard only static. "Goddamn piece of shit junk." The possibility that the command and support teams might have been wiped out never occured to the First Sergeant, referred to as "Top" by his men. "We're on our own now, boys and girls." he said wickedly. "Time to go a'scalping! Team 2, you're with me. We're goin a'thattaway!" he jerked his head straight at the empty position. "Teams 4 and 6 will provide cover. Come on, ye bastards, it's time to work a little bit of our magic."

Team 2's assault was not contested, the soldiers reached the abandoned position without taking a single shot of enemy fire, or encountering any mines or other nasty surprises. The abandoned position was clean too, which only served to raise the First Sergeant's suspicions, while also lending a lot of weight to the argument that maybe the enemy was on the ropes and was pulling back, consolidating. He grinned a shark's grin... they were getting their asses handed to them by MAGOS and they were running for cover. Fucking pansies. Still, there was no sense in rushing ahead blindly. "All right, boys and girls, we're gonna do this right." he waved teams 4 and 6 forward and waited until all twenty plus soldiers were mustered, hidden in cover, right in front of the doors to the enemy fortress. That it was an opulent mansion didn't matter to the Top... it was a building that held the enemy, thus a fortress. "This is how we're gonna..." he started to say.

"Top!" A man hissed, pointing out into the night. The First Sergeant broke off with a grunt and looked where the man was pointing. His eyes widened considerably behind his mask and NVG's. Running, no, sprinting directly at them, without regard for cover or sense, was the little psycho man who'd killed Simmons on the plane. The little fucker was FLYING across the ground... really FUCKING MOVING, so fast that his feet barely seemed to touch the ground. The Top had seen some men move in his time... hell, he'd once been in an ammo store when a grenade got accidentally armed... THAT had been some serious fucking movement right there... but the little psycho was putting that easily to shame, covering at least one hundred meters in about five and a half seconds. Enemy fire lanced out from upper story windows of other parts of the fortress, but it went sadly long and wide, impacting more than ten meters behind the little guy, who was moving so quick the enemy couldn't track down fast enough to shoot at him. "Fuck..." the Top finally noticed that the little killer was holding what looked like a machete in either hand, but the unmistakable shriek of chainsaws seemed to resonate closer and closer as the little guy raced towards them. "Chainsaws? WTF!? This a war or a fiction novel?" the Top complained. Barely had the words left his mouth when Frost came charging by, skidding to a halt directly in front of the doors.

"What in all the names of fu..." the Top started to say, but the guy... what was his name again? Frost? Yeah, Frost... just stepped up to the door and snap kicked one of the solid oak panels right off its hinges, against the swing of the door.

"Holy shi..." several soldiers gasped. Frost didn't wait for the soldiers... he had a job to do that he might actually enjoy. He didn't even wait to put his kicking foot down on the ground, he pushed off with his standing foot and leaped into the house head first, chain-machetes carving twin scars through the expensive wood paneling of the walls. Outside, the MAGOS soldiers eyed each other and the remnants of the door Frost had just cleared, in the most complete sense any of them had ever seen. The Top gritted his teeth and stepped forward. Ain't no way he was going to let some super secret, super soldier man killer get the better of him. So what if he'd just kicked a door down that would have withstood a motorcycle crashing into it... so what if he had two chainsaws in his hands and could sprint like nobodies business... the Top wasn't going to be intimidated. Right now anyway. "Right then, we're going in, boys and girls. We'll let that gung ho freak trip the bombs and we'll clean up the mess. Follow me." he commanded, and stepped forward at tactical present, his soldiers filling the hallway and doorways behind him as they flooded forward in a precision display of mobile cover and advance.

Frost let no barrier impede his progress as he tore through the house like a whirlwind. Every doorway he passed was either sliced open or kicked off its hinges as he spun past, eyes darting this way and that as he scanned the rooms for any sign of his targets or any victim of opportunity. He was barely slowed at all by this process and proceeded through the house at a fast jog, trusting to his instincts to keep him heading in the right direction. He indulged himself in some whimsical personal revenge, his chainblades hacking through precious works of art, paintings, sculptures, pictures and more mounted along the walls or on pedastals in the hallways. See how much Cervantes liked his pretty beach house after this! Frost was dimly aware of the MAGOS soldiers following behind him at a far more cautious pace, but he paid them little heed. They were ancillary soldiers, afterthoughts at best. They had their uses... bullet soaking, mostly and he was content for the moment to let them live to fufill that purpose. They might even be helpful, if the enemy decided to stay at range and blast away at him with their rifles, rather than just bowing to the inevitable and accepting their executions... if there was one battleground he wasn't fully comfortable with it was the coldness of a ranged assault. He saw another set of heavy double doors ahead of him and he smiled... according to the layout of the house Asmodeus had provided him to memorize, this next room would contain a stairway leading up to the second level. It was a natural place for a defenisve position. Revving his blades, he barreled directly at the doors, heedless of any danger.

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"What the hell is that noise?" one of the Hellhounds, a female sergeant not from Alpha team, muttured as she crouched behind a makeshift barricade on the landing between the first and second floors of the mansion's East wing staircase. Behind the barricade with her were two other Hellhounds from her old team, who'd previously been assigned along with her to hold the eastern exterior doorway before they'd recieved the orders to withdraw to this position. She personally didn't know what value this new place had over her old position, besides that it was slightly more protected from missile attack, but she wasn't going to argue with a direct order from a superior officer, especially one from the Lieutenant, of all people. Maybe he wasn't her Lt... but he was THE Lieutenant. It wasn't a distinction many outside the Hellhounds or the other elite arms of EFSOU understood well... but to those in the know, it made a massive difference. The Lieutenant was positioned behind her, on the second floor landing with four more Hellhounds who'd been assigned to other portions of the eastern wing but had likewise been pulled to here by his orders. With eight Hellhounds in one place, a significant portion of their defense was gathered.

The Lieutenant heard her over the tactical comm net and held up his hand in sudden warning, causing the four troopers with him to halt in their task, which was using spades and sledgehammers to break holes in the second story landing floor, which was the ceiling for the first floor room below. Directly below the holes was the doorway that led into the room from the hallway outside. Stacked beside the improvised murder holes and firing slits were boxes of grenades and several satchel charges, already primed and ready. The Lieutenant's strategy was surprisingly simple. To procede further into the house along this path, the enemy had to move through this choke point, which would also allow them access to the upper levels of the house, where they knew several defenders were. After battering or blowing through the locked doors downstairs, the enemy would be immediately engaged by the Hellhounds on the stairs, who were well dug in and protected by several tipped over tables, cabinets and armoires with a few sandbags stuffed into corners to make things fit together. Maybe not grenade proof, but it would be a difficult throw to get a grenade up the stairs in such a way as to deal significant damage to the fortification, especially with grenades and gunfire coming down through the murder holes above in steady streams. Cyprus didn't expect to stop the enemy here. But he knew that the foes would pay dearly to take this room. He listened and heard the noise too... a thrumming, almost a vibration in the air.

"Sounds like a chainsaw or a hedge trimmer." one of the Hellhounds next to him, PFC Wayard of Alpha Team, commented. "Handy for getting through these locked wooden doors I guess, but I think some MAGOS soldier is getting a little too macho for his boots if hes honestly expecting to use that as a viable tool in here." he chuckled, as did several other Hellhounds. Man with chainsaw vs men with guns... men with guns win every time.

"No." Cyprus said, bringing everyone's humor up short. Wayard frowned inside his mask.

"Sir... I know that sound... that's definitely a chainsaw... sounds like one of the portable lumber saws I used to work with in the Northwest Atlantic Federation during my youth..." Wayard protested. He voice died off when Cypurs glanced over his shoulder at him.

"It is a chainsaw." The Lieutenant said. "But MAGOS isn't using it."

"What do you mean, sir..." the female sergeant started to ask, but by then the sound of the chainsaw... chainsaws actually, there were two distinct rumbles now, was very close, just outside in the hall. And then it was there, in the room with them as howling metal teeth chewed through the thick wooden double doors, shortly before an object struck them both like a cannonball and flattened them inwards with a huge SLAP. An indistinct shape, kind of like a human rolled into a ball, ricocheted into the room and rolled to a halt a few feet in. "What the fu..." several Hellhounds said at once.

"Frost!" Cyprus shouted, his rifle already aiming down through the loopholes they'd punched in the floor. "Fire at will! Kill him quickly!" He put action to words, firing in short, precise bursts of three rounds each, aiming for the head, throat and upper chest area, a place on the human body rich with blood vessels, where a hollow point bullet could lead to a rapid kill due to blood loss at almost any location. The Hellhounds responded with instinct and reflex, opening fire themselves, while Wayard snatched up a pair of fragmentary grenades and tossed them through the murder holes directly at where Frost lay. Sadly, for all their training, skill and experience, the Hellhounds, even Cyprus, were still just Naturals... just human. By the time Cyprus had started his second order, Frost was already up and moving, flipping and rolling around on the ground like a fish in a frying pan. It might have looked ludicrous from a detached observers standpoint, until one took into account the entirely deadly nature of the scene. By the time the rest of the Hellhounds started to fire and well before the grenades had left Wayard's hands, Frost had regained his feet and dashed back the way he came, into the eastside hallway and well out of the line of fire.

"Cease!" Cyprus commanded, less than two seconds after he gave the command to fire. He cursed vilely to himself... his surprise had been prematurely sprung... the enemy could not fail to know there was a reinforced position waiting for them now. Worse, they were now dealing with a foe who was reinforced themselves, with a wild card whos abilities were not fully known to Cyprus, besides the fact that they were great indeed. It made it hard to plan accurately... and without a plan they were in dire straits indeed. Cyprus tongued his helmet mic again, changing channels. "Thomas, the situation has changed. Frost has entered the combat zone. Where is Ashino?"

"He's outside still, he took care of the enemy command and control squad as well as the heavy weapon guys, with Ramierez's help." Glory replied.

"Recall them both immediately. Tell them to head to the safe room. Then you head there as well. Hopefully I'll join you in ten to fifteen. We're falling back to tertiary positions." Cyprus ordered firmly, closing his eyes and starting to take deep, calming breaths.

"But... sir... we still have a good three or four strong primary positions left, not even touching the secondary ones. Why back to last ditch already?" Glory asked. He was packing up and beginning to move out as he did, but he still wanted to know the reason behind the seeming overreaction.

"We have an abhuman killer leading a group of at least twenty trained soldiers through the east wing, Thomas. The soldiers we can deal with, but the BCPU won't be stopped by conventional means. The best we can do is slow him down until we can get Ashino back here, and even then all of us combined might be enough to make the battle even." Cyprus replied, his breathing slow and even as he slipped into a near meditative state, a trick he used under only the rarest of circumstances... because only the most rare of situations was challenging enough to merit his all out, life or death effort, which commonly left him exhausted and near useless afterwards for some time. Cyprus was well aware of the sound of the chainblades below spooling back up to full speed as Frost recovered from his evasive maneuvers, no doubt preparing to charge back into the room at any moment. The MAGOS soldiers Cyprus had been expecting initially were due to arrive any second as well. A slight frown crossed his features, completely invisible to anyone else and barely even noticed by himself. He was a man who enjoyed order and discipline, and despite how he employed his training, this manifestation of the soldiery arts always felt... chaotic... for lack of a better term, to him. This slight concern, like all others, was almost instantly forgotten as, unseen by any eye but the imaginary one in his mind, a grey seed dropped through a featureless void before finally hitting an invisible ground and exploding with all the light and power of a universe being born.


	80. Cosmic Ruin part 2

Frost considered the room in front of him, which he had barged into scant seconds earlier, before being forced to evacate just millimeters ahead of highly accurate assault rifle fire and two frag grenades. Plainly the misguided defenders had erected a defensive position there, as common sense would dictate. He ran the blur of images he'd seen during his brief time in the room through his mind as the twin grenade blasts sent gusts of scorching air buffeting by him along with clouds of plaster dust and small wood chips, which he ignored as beneath trivial. A small portion of his mind noted that the MAGOS soldiers who'd been following like lapdogs at his heels had all thrown themselves into what scant cover the hallway provided, by far too slow to avoid harm if the grenades had been targeted at them. He smirked as he reconstructed the positions of the wayward Hellhounds... the team behind the furniture barricades on the landing between the floors, and the troops on the second floor landing, firing through their loopholes freshly broken through the floor. Someone up there had a cache of grenades too, and was apparently not afraid to use them. Frost considered all this information and then discarded it with a mental flick of irritation. It didn't affect his mission... the primary target wouldn't be up on the second floor, where it would be too easy to trapped by fire or killed by heavy weapon or even possible mobile suit fire... though sadly they'd been forced to leave the Fury behind... stupid covert operations missions.

No, Frost knew that Sai would be in the basement levels, and his grip tightened on his chainblade grips, causing the weapons to howl to even greater rpm in sympathy as he ground the pressure sensitive triggers against their stops. Through this room, down another hallway into the main hall, through a supposedly armored door into another offset hallway that would lead past several studies and office type rooms then to the door to the basement. Down a flight of stairs into the basements and then it was just a matter of discovering which of the sub-basments had been converted into the hidey hole and getting inside. Once that was accomplished the mission was as good as over... maybe six minutes tops, more if he took the time to play with the targets. Let the MAGOS meatsacks deal with the Hellhounds, he had more important things to do. He felt someone moving up behind him, and he only barely managed to restrain the urge to cut backwards and kill them for their presumption. But no... a distraction would be helpful and the more Hellhounds MAGOS tied up, the more time he could have of uninterrupted fun.

"Fortified position eh?" Top, the first sergeant of MAGOS, said, a slight hint of contempt riding a strung current of fear in his voice. "Lucky you they were slow on the draw." Frost let the provocative comment by... what did he care what this insect thought? "Don't worry, superman, we'll bust this nut for you. Just keep out of our way and let the professionals handle things, boy."

"As soon as I see some professionals, I might do that." Frost replied. He did not deign to look over his shoulder. "So far I've seen nothing but whipped dogs, content to follow and whine at my heels." He smirked, imagining the tortured expression on the Top's face. No doubt the human was angered at Frost's slight on the courage and ability of him and his soldiers, but Frost already had his measure of the man, and he knew that the human was far too scared to make a move against him. If only the rest of their pestilential population was as obliging, everything would be so much easier. Of course, it wouldn't be half the fun then, so Frost decided that he'd forgive them for making a fight of it. "Have fun here. I'll be taking care of..." Frost didn't get to finish his sentence. For one of the very few times in his life to date, he was caught a bit flatfooted by the actions of an inferior being.

Above on the second floor landing of the stairway room, Cyprus's eyes flew open, his mind and senses still ringing with the soundless, feelingless explosion of the grey seed in his mind. Epiphany... transcendance... there were a lot of names for the experience. Cyprus just called it Focus, with a capital "F". Soldiers had always had legends about warriors who could surpass the conventional limits of reflexes, stamina, coordination and mental quickness, heroes who could do things other people considered impossible. Cyprus had no proof, but he strongly suspected that such people had something like his Focus. Everything fell into place in his mind all at once... it wasn't quite precognition, but his subconscious mind took over his reflexes and conscious actions to a much greater extent than normal, making connections between his long term and short term knowledge that he could barely even see, muhc less understand. But suddenly everything was clear... Frost was going to bypass the room. He would just charge on through, heedless of the Hellhounds and their fortifications... his target was Sai and the BCPU knew that Sai would be in the sub-basements. Cyprus didn't know how he knew this, but he didn't waste any time in thinking about it. With a speed that was utterly breathtaking he turned and leaped headlong over the railing of the landing on the stairs side.

Cyprus turned a flip and roll in midair so that by the time he was halfway to the stairs below his head was facing out towards the ground floor room and his back was to the ground. A fraction of a rotation later and his feet were lower than his head, just in time to impact with the stairs, his knees bent for a moment and then, with a slight grunt of effort he redirected his downward momentum into a lateral backwards dive, propelling himself down the stairs and into the ground floor room like a line drive pass. Even as he leapt, his rifle was already beginning to aim, held in one hand while his other snatched a metallic cylinder from his armor harness. In the second or so it took for his arm and body to clear line of sight to the east hallway that led to the outside, Cyprus had primed the grenade and flicked the firing selector on his gun to fully automatic, so that when he did have line of sight he opened fire and tossed the grenade with near simultaniety. He noted the look of displeased surprise on Frost's face from less than ten feet away and the look of abject horror and shock on the mostly concealed face of the MAGOS Frist Sergeant standing behind him almost in passing, also noting the score of MAGOS soldiers behind them, just now starting to come out of cover or get back to their feet from positions on the ground, likely where they had thrown themselves to avoid grenade effects from Wayard's grenades.

The recoil from his assault rifle cooking off an entire forty shot extended magazine in about three quarters of a second drastically altered Cyprus's short term flight path, even as he allowed the rifle to be twisted out of his grip, trusting to its shoulder strap to keep it close to his body. He wasn't precisely aiming with the weapon... even when using his Focus, firing accurately on fully automatic while shooting one handed would be closer to miraculous than anything attributable to him. But he certainly got his point across, hurling the MAGOS First Sergeant back in a welter of crimson as his chest and lower torso was minced by the close range hi powered bullets. Three or four other soldiers took visible wounds from other rounds, dropping backwards with shrieks of pain or silent writhings of agony, while at least half of the soldiers had been hit in the armor and would be at least slightly slowed by the impact if nothing else. His gunfire did not hit Frost, but then again he'd been shooting mostly over the head level of the dimunitive BCPU. Frost had also managed to bring up his twin chainblades in a "X" in front of his face and upper torse, the wide flats of the blades towards Cyprus, where they could at least potentially deflect incoming fire. However, they did nothing to stop the grenade from smacking into them with a distinct "CLANG" before it detonated with a low "Thump". A huge cloud of billowing white and grey smoke burst out of the smoke grenade, almost instantly filling the entire section of the hallway and ground level of the staircase room to the point of zero visibility.

Now falling both forwards and sideways through the air, in the midst of an axial spin that left him facing away from the exterior hallway towards the doors leading to the hall that led into the interior of the house, Cyprus reached down with the hand closest to the ground and touched off, turning his half controlled ballistic leap into a handspring with a grimace of effort... a one handed handspring was hard enough when he was in practice clothes, much less the good sixty plus pounds of full battle armor and associated gear. But in the Focus, the pain in his wrist and lower arm was barely even preceptible, though he knew he'd certainly feel it in detail later. His free hand snatched at the pistol hoster on his thigh in his trademark lightning fast quick draw, a maneuver even further enhanced by the situation because he had no need or even ability to aim with the smoke around... it was still hot enough to confuse the thermal sensors in his helmet as well as all forms of visual tracking. He was already firing even as he touched ground, not really bothering to look, just blasting a steady stream of shots in the general direction of Frost and the MAGOS soldiers, to keep them ducking while he removed himself from the lines of return fire. Almost two and a half seconds after he first leaped from the second floor his feet touched ground again and he skidded into a crouch and roll, completely removing himself from line of sight to the exterior doorway. His rifle was empty and his pistol was half spent.

Frost wasted no time on regrets... he'd been taken off guard by the sudden unexpected maneuver of the Hellhound, but he refused to dwell on the momentary lapse, because he was determined to make up the insult by chopping the human into raggedy chunks in just a moment here. He cast about him with his enhanced senses, his eyes staring unblinking through the heated smoke that had the MAGOS troopers flinching in pain even with their goggles and armor. He couldn't see the Hellhound, nor could he hear him, but he knew the man was still nearby. A foolish decision on the humans part... he might have even gotten away with the insane stunt if he'd had the common sense to run like a rabbit after popping the smoke bomb into Frost's face. But no... this headcase wanted to stick around and slug it out, apparently. Frost was happy to oblige him, charging forward out of the center of the smoke bank, hopping in the air and spinning like a dervish, chainblades sweeping out high and low. He didn't hit his target, but away from the epicenter of the smoke cloud he had much clearer vision. Behind him, the MAGOS soldiers were just starting to recover their wits and their rage and several of them started heading into the room after Frost, using the cover of the enemy's own smoke bomb to advance with relative impunity.

Cyprus heard the chainblades whistle through the air off to his side and he felt more than heard the rushing footsteps of the MAGOS soldiers as they flooded forward, determined to take advantage of the smoke screen. Neither bothered him overmuch, and certainly didn't prevent him from calmly switching out magazines in both his pistol and his recently recovered rifle, which he pulled back into his grasp using the shoulder strap. He switched the rifle to single shot and then took it up again in one hand, with his pistol in his other hand and got to his feet in a slow, smooth motion, careful not to make any more noise than necessary. According to the briefings he'd attended on the BCPU project subjects, their senses, while exceptionally sharp, still did not extend to being able to see through smoke and there was so much ambient noise from the battle outside and the other soldiers nearby that hearing would do the enemy little good too, unless he made a loud and distinctive noise. Something loud and distinctive like taking aim at the dim shapes he could half see advancing towards him through the smoke and opening fire. He had the advantage of being the only friendly on the ground floor... anything else that moved was a safe enemy target. His first four shots took the life of two more Magos soldiers, who never even saw the merest outline of the man who blew their heads apart from less than twenty feet away.

The ground floor of the stairway room suddenly became an extremely inhospitable place, as the MAGOS soldiers, already nervy from the loss of their leadership and the stress of the mission as a whole, had a short term breakdown of discipline. All the remaining MAGOS troopers started to fire into the room, not quite randomly, but not coherently either. Cyprus hop-skipped a few paces back and dropped into a crouch, since most of the MAGOS fire was being directly at upper chest and head levels. He watched a blur in the smoke twist into a miniature cyclone for an instant as Frost spun his blades and body around and between the sprays of bullets, haloed by wreaths of sparks where the flats of the chainblades swept up to block bullets he could not twist past. Cyprus could not help but stare for a moment, seeing this mad engine of destruction at work for the first time. He shook himself out of it in an eyeblink and tongued his mic again. "Weapons free, repeat weapons free. Hostiles have entered the ground floor. There are no friendlies... repeat, no friendlies." he ordered, feeling the pause as his troops assimilated the last bit of the order, which told them to fire without regard to his wearabouts, as a moment of silence on the comm lines. "Weapons free aye, no friendlies!" a series of voices chorused back to him, shortly before the Hellhounds opened fire blindly, hosing down the room with full auto fire, which was enthusiastically returned by the MAGOS troops.

Frost felt a pair of bullets crease his shoulder and cheek and he snarled in irritation. It was fast becoming impossible for him to keep track of everything that was happening around him, with at least twenty soldiers firing near constantly, plus the added confusion of the smoke. They weren't shooting at him by design, but they were shooting past him and even through him, since they couldn't see to aim elsewhere, in the case of his so called alies, or were just shooting blind in the case of the Hellhounds. He snapped his blades up into a "X" guard in front of his face, feeling the hardened alloy-steel, the same material Ginn swords were made of, shudder as they deflected several more stray bullets in showers of blue and white sparks. His snarl deepened... the damn Hellhounds and the MAGOS soldiers were making everything so difficult, with their stupid gunfights. All he wanted to do was kill the annoying bastard who'd tossed a grenade in his face and then kill the target. But he couldn't do that while he was dancing for his life in the middle of a crossfire. As he saw it, there were two solutions... he could kill the MAGOS soldiers, which would be satisfying, but counterproductive in the short term; or he could bring the fight to the Hellhounds, who were no doubt feeling secure in their fortifications. Tiresome, but it was better than what he was doing. Thought became action with such a smooth transition that one might as well have been the other and he raced for where he remembered the stairway to be.

The Hellhounds in the stairway landing fortification had no time to react. They were busy maintaining a steady stream of fire into the smoke filled room below and in front of them, with always at least on of them firing while the others reloaded. Without warning a haze of blue and white sparks arrowed towards them through the smoke and then a nightmare hurtled out of the smoke, drawing bits of it after him in his haste like a shroud as he charged directly through their lane of fire, bullets whining and shattering as they struck the durable metal of the shrieking chainsaws in his fists. The female sergeant was just opening her mouth to call a warning while clawing at her harness for a concussion grenade to stop the monster's advance when Frost struck the somewhat shotworn table the Hellhounds were covering behind. The table was made from dense, heavy hardwood, and must have weighed at least three or four hundred pounds. The chainblades chewed through the table as easily as they did the doors, weakening the structure of the wood so that when Frost hit it a millisecond later the table cracked and broke in half at the midpoint, barely checking his advance at all. The Hellhounds tumbled backwards, but by then it was too late.

Frost took the female sergeant first, one chainblade spearing forward to impale her through the lower abdomen, kicking out a wash of blood that sprayed all over the area, while his second sword chopped off her reaching arm at mid-forearm before continuing on to pare off a slice of flesh from her side and hip. Her scream thrummed along Frost's nerves in a wave of euphoria as he lifted the impaling sword up through her body while hacking out twice with the other, decapitating the Hellhound to the right and splitting the one on the left from shoulder to groin. With a contemptuous twist and heave, Frost tossed the flopping corpse of the female sergeant from the end of his blad back over his head to roll disjointedly down the stairway behind him. He was just turning to continue his way up the stairs when he caught sight of a pair of small metallic objections flying his way from the direction of the second floor landing. He reacted on instinct, remembering a time not so long ago in a jungle near his "home" and just how painful close range greandes could be. Before he even fully realized what he was doing he'd tossed himself back down the stairs, much like the crazy Hellhound had done earlier, but in a far less graceful and controlled fashion... he landed in a shoulder roll, keeping his blades out wide to avoid injuring himself. Tough luck for a couple of MAGOS grunts, who went down with severed limbs and gashed torsos, but such was life. Behind him, the stairway landing disappeared in twin explosions of fire and red hot shrapnel, which did a good job of macerating the bodies lying there, and made a hash from the fortitifications, but not much else.

As Frost rolled to his feet, his blade took another MAGOS trooper behind her left knee, slicing her lower leg off cleanly. She began to mewl in terror, like humans did when they got badly hurt and Frost absentmindably crush the side of her skull in with the hilt of his right chainblade. She dropped like a sack of potatos, not yet dead but fast getting there. He regretted not being able to take the time to do things right and give her a send off everyone else would sure remember, but with a monstrous effort of will he choked back his bloodlust. With the Hellhound position on the stairs destroyed, and the Hellhounds reduced almost 50 percent in number, he felt as though he'd done enough of a good job of disrupting them so that MAGOS could tie them up for him. His comm link buzzed. "Frost, this is Asmodeus. The Hellhounds wiped out the command and heavy support squads. I'm currently en route to the main doors, and I'll link up with you once I get inside. Be warned, Ashino is fighting on the side of the Hellhounds."

"The little bastard is still alive?" Frost shouted, shocked to his core. Who would have thought such a soft skinned little pansy would have had the tenacity to live through his mobile suit's destruction, much less get all the way to Hawaii afterwards? A grim expression settled onto Frost's features... he suddenly knew who the so called "Coordinator" was. He wasn't worried... both he and Ashino knew who was the better between them, but the thought of Ashino running his too observant mouth off to Sai and his Isolationist friends for weeks now was discomfiting. Ashino was a wily weasel... he knew too much about Frost, and what he didn't know for sure, he suspected rightly. Ashino was the only other person alive who knew that Frost had killed the Doc. For that reason alone, if for no other, he had to die. Not to mention all the stuff he knew about the BCPU project, and their mobile suits and even their weaknesses. A brief smile crossed his face... of course, after so long without a redose, poor little Ashino was going to be running low on gamma glipheptim here shortly, and that was not a pleasant prospect for the lesser sorts of BCPU... it wasn't a fun way to die. Frost himself didn't care one way or the other... there was enough stuff in him that caused him pain as part of its regular function that his overwrought nerves barely even registered the withdrawal symptoms from the drug. It was funny really, that because of who he was and how he was made that he was probably the only person alive immune to coercion from that drug and yet it was supposed to be a key part in keeping him loyal.

There was no time to waste now... he needed to kill Sai and Vanai... even if he was supposed to spare her life, "accidents" happen, often two or three times in a row... and then he needed to hunt down Ashino and take his skull for a trophy, and keep him from talking to anyone ever again. And maybe the same for Asmodeus, depending on how verbal the old fuck was about what was going to happen to Vanai. Frost actually found himself hoping that the old man wouldn't force it to come to that... he found himself regarding the icy eyed bastard with a hint of fondness, if for no other reason than it was hilarious to watch such a dangerous and intelligent man let himself be led around blindly by the nose by his so called friend Cervantes. Frost bolted for the interior door, opening it with his usual panache, using his shoulder to bash the wooden portals into fragments as he barged through. He spun barely in time to weave past two bullets and deflect a third that would have taken him between the eyes if he'd been a hair slower. A man walked casually out of the smoke filled room behind him, rifle in one hand, pistol in the other, both aimed directly at Frost without even the tiniest of wavers. "It's you. You're fucked in the head, human." Frost noted.

"Interesting comment, coming from one such as you." Cyprus replied, even as he fired twice more, both shots swatted out of the air by the flailing chainblades. He tensed his muscles, watching the short killer intently, waiting for that smallest of tensings that would indicate a coming attack and give Cyprus time to react. For all his power, Frost did have a few weaknesses, such as they were. For one, he was still human in body. That is, he still had muscles, and was still forced to follow the laws of physics, things like inertia and such. His muscles still tightened before he moved and when he missed he could not instantly change direction. He could move damned fast, almost faster than the nominal human eye could comprehend, but Cyprus was not a nominal human, and that was even before the Focus was taken into account. He could feel his chest starting to pant a bit from the exertion, but he still had a ways to go before he reached his limit, and while Focusing, he never felt tired anyway. He fired four more times, the bullets cracking from his guns almost like they were on full auto, so fast did he pull the triggers. These bullets were fired in a small spread, which had the end result of one gashing Frost across his left hip while the others were dodged or deflected. At such close range not even the superhuman reflexes of a BCPU 6 could fully compensate for the sheer velocity of multiple bullets.

With a growl like a lion pouncing, Frost darted forwards, chainblades reaching for this frustrating foe, only to have the human melt backwards like a ghost, pivoting onto his back leg and kick out in a near perfect side kick that caught Frost fully in the face, slipping right in between his chopping blades. The blow didn't hurt much at all, but it did disrupt his attack and the sheer novelty of being struck in hand to hand combat by a Natural was enough to set Frost back a step. He skipped back a few strides, putting every last valuable inch of distance between him and the gun wielding Hellhound, until his back was to the doors that led into the main hall. "You cannot hold me off forever." Frost observed.

"I don't have to. You'll be dead in the next few minutes." Cyprus replied, cold as a glacier. "This is not a holding action. This is an execution."

"That's what I'm supposed to say." Frost pouted, bringing his swords back up to a more defensive postion. It was a little disquieting, the lack of fear this human was showing. Even Asmodeus had a little bit of fearful respect for Frost evident in his manner, a certain wariness that Frost only noticed in absentia. This man had none. "Very well then, lets make this an execution." He was just preparing to charge once more when there came the distinctive sound of gunfire from the main hall behind him... the loud, heavy bark of a certain customized pistol familiar to both of them.

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While Frost and MAGOS had been blitzing their way through the eastern wing of the house, the remains of the MAGOS company regrouped on the west side and furiously engaged the defenders there, keeping them tied up and occupied. Asmodeus considered joining up with them and taking direct command of the attack from there, but finally decided against it. The MAGOS soldiers were doing all they could, and his leadership would not be enough to sway things enough to matter. He picked his way slowly and cautiously through the jungle towards the front lawn of the mansion, eyes and helmet sensors sweeping around constantly, keeping behind as much cover as possible and always staying in what shadows he could find in the middle of the cloudy night. He'd already bypassed a couple of simple but cleverly disguised tripwires and he had no intention of ending this mission and his life by rushing into more. All the same, he did not exactly dawdle or take the scenic tour... there were other Hellhounds out in the woods with him, as well as the traitorous Ashino, neither of whom he particularly wanted to encounter. Asmodeus slowly turned the thought of a renegade BCPU over and over in his mind... truly, he wasn't all that surprised. The only shocking thing to him was that it was Ashino, easily the most disciplined and seemingly loyal of them all, who had turned coats, while Frost, a loose cannon if there ever was one, still was content to serve his purpose as a weapon wielded by Blue Cosmos. He quirked a brief smile, because technically speaking, Ashino still did that too, if you considered the Isolationists part of Blue Cosmos, which Asmodeus did not.

Another disquieting thought occured to him just then. If the mildest and most "trustworthy" of the BCPU's had found it possible to turn his back on Blue Cosmos, mightn't there be something to Frost's ravings from earlier, about being the freer of the two of them? He made a note to check up more thoroughly on just what Frost did during his so called off time. He paused at the threshold between the forest and the lawn and scanned his vision around again, his rifle muzzle following every jerk and dip of his gaze. On this side of the house, things were quiet. There was a massive racket over by the west wing exterior doors, and a somewhat more muted ruckus coming from within the east wing, but in the main, center part of the house there was no activity. Dark windows, devoid of glass with interiors shot to shreds by missile, sniper or gatling gun fire, stared out like gouged eye sockets from the front facade of the house. His feet whispered through the grass as he stole across the wide lawn. He was pleased to note that he had forgotten less of his field tradecraft than he'd feared, having been mostly a desk jockey or political officer for the last few years. He was nowhere near as polished as he'd been as a youngster, but he did himself no shame in his stalking skills tonight. He reached the front stairway, careful to tread around the still smoking and splintered remains of the main doors, which had taken a direct hit from a guided missile.

The interior of the house was not quite as dark as a cave... dim light spilled into the main hall from beneath several doorways and the inconstant moonlight shone in through the seaside windows to cast a pale pall over everything. His mask HUD rendered everything into shades of green, something which took some getting used to initially, but was now almost second nature to him. A digitally rendered red crosshair flickered across the roomscape, showing where his rifle was currently pointing. He inspected the room closely, but there really weren't that many places to hide... a few pillars, some ornamental shrubs and desks and that was about it. He was alone. He considered where he would go next... he'd told Frost he was going to rendevous with him here, but who knew when the madman would actually deign to show up. Probably not until he'd finished butchering every last member of the renegade Hellhounds he could find. He was close... the echo of the chainblades was quite audible, if unspecific in direction... given how shot up parts of the house were Frost could be anywhere within fifty meters, including above Asmodeus. He ghosted forward into the room, blending his body behind one of the entrance pillars, gun swinging to cover both sets of doors that led to the east/west main ground floor hallways. His only warning was a brief flicker of heat wash from over his right shoulder.

Asmodeus spun on his heels, rifle up and searching for a target, finger tight on the trigger. It was to no avail... a brutal force grabbed his rifle by the forestock and barrel and tore it bodily from his hands, even as a few silenced rounds purred off into the nighttime forest through the open main doorway. The rifle clattered as it struck the marble floor and slide well out of reach of either man. Asmodeus jumped awkwardly backwards, crashing into a desk and almost falling down a short flight of stairs that led to the central antrium floor of the main hall. His opponent closed the distance slowly and surely, his augmented vision cutting through the gloom as easily as the sensors in Asmodeus's helm did. "You really are getting old, Asmodeus. You forgot to check behind you." Ashino reproached, slipping his combat knife out from his back sheath as he advanced. He wished he hadn't run out of ammo for the pistols, but the urgency of Glory's recall order had precluded searching the bodies for more ammo or extra weapons... he and Ramierez had headed straight back... Ramierez to the west side battle and Ashino to Sai. But of course, on his way back he'd seen a lone Hellhound with a very distinctive heavy holster on one hip stealing into the house along the same route he was taking and now here they were.

Asmodeus slapped at his hip with one hand and yanked out his custom pistol, its blue laser sight winking on as soon as it cleared the holster. He was surprised that Ashino had let him draw the weapon... if this had been Frost he probably already would have been dead. He knew it wasn't a compunction against killing Naturals, like BCPU's were supposed to have, since he'd seen Ashino slaughter the command and heavy weapons teams, but something seemed to be holding Ashino back a little from finishing the deal. Asmodeus also noted that at least one of his shots from earlier had struck home... one of Ashino's sleeves was ripped off and tied around his upper arm in a makeshift bandage. The BCPU moved slowly and cautiously, knife held low and forward, eyes never leaving Asmodeus for a second. Asmodeus frowned at the uncharacteristic caution, even for Ashino, who was always measured and methodical... this also smacked of hesitancy, which wasn't an emotion the BCPU's were supposed to have. Then the answer became obvious, as it quickly would to anyone who was as familiar with the BCPU project as Asmodeus was. He calculated a few times and dates rapidly in his head and grinned a very slight grin. "Been a while since the last check-up, hasn't it, Markov? You might need to go see a doctor sometime soon, get your shots updated."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. My arm twinges a bit, but I've had worse." Ashino forced a grin of his own onto his features, even as his stomach roiled a bit and blur gathered at the edges of his vision. Coming down from the combat high of earlier wasn't as easy with low Gamma Glipheptim levels... among other things the drug acted as a stabilizer and mitigator for some of the more harmful effects of the other chemicals present in his organs and bloodstream. Nothing permanently debilitating, but he sure didn't feel at the top of his game right now. Still, he knew he was more than able to finish off a single old Natural, even one as devious and dangerous as Asmodeus. His knife handle was reassuringly dry and solid in his grip. The knife wasn't his preferred weapon, but he'd trained with it and mastered it just like he had for most forms of combat. He kept it low, where it would be easy to rip upwards with all his considerable strength behind it. One good stroke would be all he would need to put paid to Asmodeus for all time. Naturally, Asmodeus would be well aware of this and thus would do all in his power to keep Ashino from closing the distance. Ashino warily eyed the huge pistol... it wouldn't take more than one or two hits from that beast to put him down, he had no doubts.

"I'd imagine so." Asmodeus allowed, laser sight steady on Ashino's breastbone. When dealing with the incredible speed and reflexes of a BCPU, headshots were too chancy, too easy to avoid... better to shoot for the body mass and hope to knock them off balance long enough to put a couple more in there and keep them down. With a .223 caliber slug, the same caliber used in modern military squad level support weapons, his pistol would put a hole through a man big enough to stick both your hands into, body armor or not, especially at such close range. Ashino was of course aware of this, and would do his best to close quickly and either disembowel him or cut his wrist and take the gun away. He could allow neither. "How did you survive the destruction of the Bane, anyway? We could find no evidence of your body, but there was quite the inferno after all."

"I do not know. Divine providence? Skill? Luck? I was unconscious at the time. I thought I was going to die, but when I awoke I was floating in the ocean, already out of sight of land." Ashino replied, advancing one step forward for every step back Asmodeus took. "Why are you here, Asmodeus? Surely you can realize that Cervantes's time is coming to an end. His last few acts have been the desperate scrabblings of a madman whos empire is crumbling beneath his own grip... the moment he ordered Cray to break up the peace protest in Orb, it was already over for him. Sai is doing the right thing... the necessary thing. When a Mobile Suit or a BCPU becomes outmoded, outdated, or irretrievably insane, they are discarded and their flaws corrected in the next generation... the same principle applies to Natural political leaders I'd say."

"Sai is a foolish young boy, besotted with wealth and power and the importance it conveys. He hasn't the backbone or the mind to be a leader, especially a leader of Blue Cosmos. Niceties aside, Blue Cosmos is a terrorist organization, devoted to the eradication of the Coordinator menace. That's what Blue Cosmos is, and always has been, at heart. Not a political movement, not an environmental group, certainly not a peace lobby. We kill Coordinators and those who would create them, in order to preserve a Blue and Pure World for human beings, without the unnatural stain of genetic tinkering." Asmodeus retorted.

"Oh please, don't play the fanatic with me, Asmodeus Sark. We both know that's complete crap, all of it." Ashino said disgustedly. "Blue Cosmos is an economic concern, a criminal organization funded and run by mostly legitimate corporations to cut out their competitors, who can produce better, cheaper and more plentiful products than they can for the same production cost. Blue Cosmos kills Coordinators, encourages the war, because that's what is good for its sponsers and their income. Do you have any idea how much money Cosmos Weapon Manufacturers has made off this war? I don't have the slightest clue, but I'd imagine the numbers are in the tens of billions. And what about the food barons, providing for all the troops... the fuel companies, the medical supplies, the transport fees, not to mention all of the "acquired resources" from conquered or coerced world nations like the United States of South America and Orb. The Blue Cosmos sponsers are making a mint... a thousand mints... from this war, which they propogate by inflaming the fundamentally just fears of the everyday populace that they will lose jobs from competition with Coordinators. I've read a lot of history and I know you have too... the old USA faced similar problems during the late twenty-first and early twenty second centuries AD, when its highly trained but highly paid workforce was consistently undermined and underbid by the massive and cheap workforces of China and India who could make nearly the same quality for a tenth the price."

Asmodeus did not refute the claims Ashino put forth... they were, after all, true. And in this place, at this time, what was a little truth between mortal foes? Justified, in his opinion. It would be nice to drop the mask of deceit for a little bit, just for once. The house security system was nonoperational and all outside communications were being jammed anyway. No one could hear him that mattered. "What of it then? So what, that Blue Cosmos is just a big money making racket, in the big picture? As you pointed out, wars throughout history have always been the same in motivation. Politics is often blamed, but we both know its always economics that is the real blame. The American Revolution? Forget political freedom, they didn't want to pay their admittedly high taxes. The American Civil War... the South didn't want to give up slavery, a primary source of their income and economic stability and the North was planning on forcing them to pay their free labor. World Wars 1, 2 and 3, if you count the Reconstruction War... various nations wanted a bigger slice of the Trade pie and they took them by force, much like we did when we annexed the USSA and Orb... do you have any idea how many YEARS of technological advances we took from Morganroete? The price is unimaginable. My point is though, even if Sai takes over Blue Cosmos, its not going to change the war."

"That is where you are wrong." Ashino countered, very conscious of the camera on his chest that he'd borrowed from Ramierez. This entire conversation was being broadcast worldwide, most likely live. Of course the various battles between the Hellhounds and MAGOS were getting air time too, but if he knew Sai, as soon as this conversation started he would have prioritized this link. The longer he could keep Asmodeus talking, the better things would go. Already he'd gotten quite a few juicy soundbytes. "Sai is different from Cervantes. He has no interest in becoming rich... he values people more than money. It's been odd for me, adjusting to the idea that someone actually cares about my wellbeing and doesn't regard me as a mere component of a greater machine, but I can tell you this... the feeling is fantastic." Ashino did not mention Lacus Clyne, whom had originally planted the seed of humanity in his psyche... her name would not help this situation any. "He desires peace because he hates war... he fought in the last war because he had to fight to survive and protect those people he cared about. He fights now for the exact same reasons. Not for fame, not for power, not for money or property or fun. He doesn't hate Coordinators, though he does hate some of them. Just like people like food, but hate some food. He is wise enough to admire them for their strengths and take comfort in his own."

"What strengths? They are smarter than us, faster than us, stronger than us, live longer, are healthier... what advantages do we have?" Asmodeus sneered. "The only weakness they have is ironically genetic in nature and that is reproductive sterility, a serious problem but one that is combatable. What do we have? Numbers. That's all."

"We have stability." Ashino replied, calling to mind many long conversations he'd had with Sai about very similar topics. "Economic stability, political stability... discounting Blue Cosmos... and perhaps most importantly of all, emotional stability. We have a big, blue and green world with a breathable atmosphere, liquid water and hospitable temperature for human life. We have an atmosphere that shields us from deadly solar and interstellar radiation, mineral resources so vast we still haven't come close to tapping them all, living room still to spare and an environment that retains its natural balance seemingly no matter how hard we push it. Our nations have been established for so long that many people don't even remember when they were founded and our governmental systems have stood the tests of centuries. We don't need them to survive, but they, until recently, needed us to survive. Even now, they may be "economically self sufficient", but there's leagues of differences between "self sufficient" and "prosperous". Not to mention that they're still human. They may live in space, but Earth is our home, psychologically. It hasn't been near long enough for them to start thinking of the PLANTS as "home" in that sense. The live in space, but they're from Earth."

"Thought this all out, have you? This is more than I expected from a BCPU." Asmodeus admitted, his voice coming out unintentionally harsh, maybe because Ashino was still advancing on him with a knife, during the entire conversation. He was starting to run out of room to back up to... if he didn't take action within the next few minutes, he'd be backed into a corner and that would be the end of things. Ashino's eyes glittered like sparks in the green light of the HUD.

"Merely because I'm a manufactured product... an unwilling one, I might add... doesn't make me stupid or unlearned." Ashino said coldly. "I regard myself as a living, breathing example of the end result of the sickness that has pervaded the upper echelons of the current Blue Cosmos hierarchy. I was a child, stolen from my parents at the whim of a mad scientist. I was tortured and brainwashed, my memories wiped, my emotions dulled, my every thought turned towards killing those whom I was ordered to. I was unmade as a person and remade as a thing. Why? To perpetuate the war. They say my purpose is to kill Coordinators. On the general level, that's true. The Doc said we, the BCPU, were what Coordinators should have been... a quantifiable, understandable and most importantly controllable upgrade to the human race. Chemically enslaved, indoctrinated with total dependence and reliance upon my creators... yes, how perfect a tool I was. But I believe that we are nothing but a taunt. A challenge to the Coordinators, something for them to fear, to strike against and in so doing, continue to expand their war machine, which gives us all the reason we'd need to expand ours. How much money has Blue Cosmos made because we were held back at Washington DC, when we could have saved the city with our attacks but we let them slaughter the defenders to make a good presentation for the sales department? If BCPU's were truly made to end the war, then this war would already be ended."

"What about the nukes? We've tried to destroy the PLANTS on various occasions... that would have ended the war." Asmodeus watched Ashino start to gather himself... the conversation, intriguing as it was, was nearing a end.

"It would not have. Even at Jachin Due, the nukes were mostly aimed at their military and agricultural colonies... millions would be dead, but millions would have survived in the population colonies. They would have surrendered and the shooting war would have ended. But the real war would have just shifted venue. As a people, persecuted for a choice made before they were born, the Coordinators would not have taken more nuclear devastation lying down. They would have been economic vassals again in name only... everything that came out of them would be so rife with sabotage and terrorism that it would cost us more to control them than to let them be free. You can make me believe that Azrael Murata and Cervantes Zunnichi want all Coordinators dead... but Blue Cosmos doesn't. It wouldn't be good for business."

Asmodeus chuckled briefly. "All you've done is bitch and moan. You've painted an accurate picture of the truth, poked holes in the falsities that we use to appease the public and even made a few insights not even I was fully aware of. But you haven't convinced me that your way is right. What makes Sai a better leader than Cervantes? Too much blood and terror have flowed under the bridge now to make amends, whatever other reasons there are to continue the war. You commend him for his altruism and his respect for others. I damn him for the same. That sort of softness will only result in us losing the war. And what then? What then!?"

"Indeed... what then." Ashino nodded once. "Will they occupy us? Force us to pay them tribute? Police us all into camps? Nuke our cities? Gun us down at our weddings... assassinate our political leaders... bomb our houses... hold lynch mobs... what? Like you said, numbers. Theres a perhaps fifteen million of them, and more than ten billion of us. Hundreds of times their number. What will change if they win the war? Nothing. We know what they want. They want to be left alone, to be treated as people, as equals and as humans. They want space to be themselves, to be free to make their own choices for good or ill, to forge their own path... just like any nation does. In short, they want to be just like us. What do we lose for giving them their space, as much of it as they want? Nothing. We have a WORLD of OUR OWN! Maybe, sometime, centuries or millenia down the road, we might actually run out of space on Earth, might deplete all its resources, might kill its environment. But it's going to take a hell of a lot more than just ten billion of us for that to happen. And, if and when such a situation arrives, assuming it ever does, which is not assured, then we might have to worry about expanding into space. After which amount of time they'll probably be fully autonomous of the Solar System itself and there will be plenty of space to go to."

"So we all just live happily ever after, neighbors in space? In thirty years their economy will overshadow anything the Earth has to compare. They're already mining the asteroid belt and it won't be long before they hit Mars and Venus. We won't be able to compete with them, with their rate of technological advance. Our entire economy will be bankrupt compared to theirs in fifty years of peace. We don't have any option but to fight, unless we want to end up as brute force laborers for them!" Asmodeus seethed, finger tightening on the trigger just slightly.

"I never said that. We're called Isolationists for a reason, Asmodeus. They want to be free... very well, let them be free from us, in all aspects. They can have space... but we have the Earth and the Moon. There will be no trade... no communication... no travel... no emmi- or immi-gration. We will build a wall between us that neither side will be able to surmount. Like two children in a playground who bully each other... sometimes the only solution is seperation, two seperate time outs to allow both sides to cool off and calm down."

"Fantasy... pure raving madness." Asmodeus said savagely. "How could building such a thing bring peace? It would only spawn a new war when we attacked them or they attacked us... and then one side would have the wall. It would be this whole war, all over again. Might as well just keep fighting this one rather than spread false hope. What's to prevent that, eh?"

"Trust. Honor. Mutual respect."

"Idiotic." Asmodeus squeezed the trigger, exploding the calm dimness of the room into splinters of light and sound.

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Sai paced back and forth in the sub-basement/command center, hes eyes never leaving the myriad screens that showed the views from the various cameras that his friends and protectors wore. A distressing number of the screens were black out or stared motionless at a single viewpoint... those represented those who were dead and gone. Of the ones that were moving, most weren't of much more comfort, usually depicting some facet of furious close range gun combat or other that he could have easily gone his whole life without seeing in action. His Hellhounds were hanging on by the skin of their teeth, but they were making the attacking soldiers... MAGOS, was what Cyprus and Glory called them... pay a hefty price for each foot of ground they gained into the house. Sai just hoped that future history would bear out their sacrifices as being worth the rewards he was reaping for them. All their wireless communications were still down, internet included, due to the jamming the MAGOS soldiers had set up somewhere on the island. But the covert land line... more accurately sea line, since most of it was about two thousand feet down in the ocean... that led out from the house was still working just fine. It had cost an incredible amount to have the line put in on such short notice, but Blue Cosmos had the cash to spare. He'd just been worried that his father in law or more likely Asmodeus would have done a bit of digging and found out about it, but it seemed the secret still was. He glanced up at the main screen again, where the enlarged view from two cameras in particular were displayed. One was Cyprus... the other, Ashino. One man was confronting Frost, the other Asmodeus.

"Ashino certainly has learned a lot from talking with you." Vanai observed from where she was seated in a recliner nearby, in front of the computer that was the connection to the land line system. More than seven months pregnant, she was beginning to feel perpetually tired and even the pulse pounding danger of an attack from a special forces company coming to kill her husband and everyone around him couldn't motivate her body to be comfortable standing. "Might have to move him to the Publicity department, if he can toss out a spiel like that on short notice." She saw the look he gave her and laughed. "Don't look at me like that, my love. We're both political animals... we use people, that's our job. It's how we use them, and for what purpose that truly determines the good or evil of our existence. Seriously, Ashino would be a enormous boon to our cause if we had him do a few speeches. A tragic childhood, involuntary enslavement, torture, brainwashing, an uplifting struggle against the chemical bonds that his former masters placed upon him... his story sells, big time. There's not a human rights movement on either side of the fence, Coordinator or Natural that won't support a group that has him as a figurehead."

"He doesn't have much time. Unless R and D pulls a magic rabbit out of a hat within the next month or so, he's going to die. I won't have him suffering emotionally because he's being used as a tool to further my own agenda, in addition to his physical suffering." Sai frowned. "He saved my life, and your life and the twins lives. He's my friend..."

"He's my friend too." Vanai interrupted. "Maybe he and I aren't as close as you and he, but Sai, your friends are my friends and vice versa. I don't want to see him in pain any more than you do, but the reality of the situation remains. He's most likely going to die in a month. He knows this. He knows we know this, since he told us himself. He appreciates all the help we've given him, the respect we give him, the way we treat him as the real human being he is... but he cannot just forget his past. He is damaged, damaged in a way neither of us can comprehend." Her voice became even more gentle and quiet. "It isn't pleasant to say, but I believe he would want us to use him. He's been used for so long by people with immoral and unethical motives that not being used is strange to him. Uncomfortable. Being used by us to bring about a lasting peace... I think he would see that as a sort of redemption, something he has no idea how to achieve by himself. You can ask him yourself, but he's still a bit awkward about communicating his feelings... you know I'm right though."

"The rightness of what you say isn't what is at stake." Sai swallowed as he listened to Ashino continue to batter away at Asmodeus's ideological defenses using a solid mix of his own observations and Sai's own policies and notes. "I'm not questioning the rightness of using Ashino... indeed, as you say, he would most likely want us to. However, just because I can, and he wants me to, doesn't mean I should. I won't make that decision for him... if he asks me to let him speak, I will gladly do so, but to force him to speak, even for a good cause, smacks of coercion to me... and I will not coerce him."

"Even if it might mean the difference between getting the support we need to bring about peace and failing by the wayside?" Vanai countered, not enjoying the pained expression that crossed his face, but she had to make her point. "He's out there risking his life for us right now. I cannot think of any choice more serious than that. We're already using him, Sai-love. Asking him to speak for us... is it any different than asking him to die for us? No... you know he's already made his choice. He wants to be out there... he volunteered. They all did. It is us who would do them wrong by not using their gift to the best advantage of the world."

"You sure you don't want to be the leader?" Sai half joked. "Because it certainly sounds like you've got it all worked out to me." He smiled and stopped pacing, studying both screens with a much calmer, more analytical viewpoint. "Thanks, Vanai. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you to keep me steady on course."

"Our children should be born and raised in a world without the strife of genocidal war. All natural children should." Vanai replied with a genuine smile of her own. Sai noted the use of the word "natural" but didn't comment. Vanai wasn't as open in her deeply held, personal beliefs as he was, he knew. She publicly espoused everything he said and believed in, but between the two of them there was sometimes friction as to just how much human respect Coordinators deserved. She wasn't anywhere near as bad as her father... more an aristocrat looking down on peasants than a man looking down on an infestation of bugs.

"So that's Zacharis Frost, is it?" Sai said, studying the screen showing Cyprus's viewpoint. Ashino's viewpoint was mostly just sound and a very little picture, Asmodeus's mask and not much else in the dim light of the main hall. Cyprus was in a reasonably well lit hallway, though there was some smoke that was billowing up from behind him somewhere. The person everyone he knew referred to as the most bestial and maniacal killer of modern times certainly looked the part. Short, very short but muscled like a bull on steroids, Frost had dark, almost pupilless eyes and dark green hair that spiked up from his head, shorter in some places than others. His skin was caucasian with a tan and was liberally splattered in gore of various sorts. He wore black fatigue trousers and short sleeved tunic that strained to contain his muscle mass, the clothing was ripped and torn in several places but very little of the blood that covered him appeared to be his own. Distressingly little, considering he'd been facing off with Cyprus for quite some time now. A terrifying weapon, looking like a mix between a wide bladed machete and a chainsaw, was gripped in either hand, the teeth spinning in red-grey blurs.

"It is." Vanai gulped audible and looked away from the screen as if nauseated. "I strongly hope that this is as close as you'll ever have to be to him. He's one of the most repungent... things... I've ever been around." _Certainly the most repungent I've ever slept with. I cannot imagine how I was ever attracted to him... I must have just been in one of those "phases"._ She thought privately to herself.

"Hopefully." Sai agreed, but his voice was full of doubt. Cyprus was holding his own, doing far better than any normal person had any right to do, but Sai had watched Frost block bullets with his swords and seemingly dodge others, right there on the TV screen. He'd extremely underestimated what the man was capable of, despite the warnings from Cyprus, Vanai and even Ashino. It just hadn't seemed real. He'd been prepared for another Ashino... maybe a bit bigger, faster, stronger and tougher... but not this Frost. He replayed the confused and traumatic couple of seconds that showed Frost clearing out a fortified position of three Hellhounds like it was a walk in the park... he'd had time to enjoy himself, made it look easy. And he'd seen the smile on Frost's face and he'd shuddered in fear and disgust. To think he'd once voiced the thought of trying to recruit Frost onto his side... now he saw why everyone else had reacted so strongly and negatively.

On screen there was a sudden explosion of light and sound on Ashino's screen and the only partly muffled sound of a gunshot from Cyprus's screen. Both Cyprus and Frost froze upon hearing the sound. Sai's heart leapt up into his throat... Ashino was tough but he'd seen Asmodeus's gun before and tough wouldn't cut it against that thing. However, the view from Ashino's camera kept moving and he didn't hear any sounds that would indicate a serious wound... though on the other hand with Ashino it might not be immediately obvious, since a serious wound to him was something to be ignored, not lamented. A traumatic amputation probably wouldn't even make him gasp. On Cyprus's screen everything was suddenly a blur of motion, too confused to make out any details from. Suddenly a bright glow appeared on Ashino's screen, the ambient light levels in the main hall suddenly increasing as the eastern doorway was battered open by a short black blur with humming swords in either hand. One sword suddenly seperated from the figure in a shower of sparks, skidding off along the floor with the sound of metal chewing into stone. Frost turned and spun, his remaining sword flickering around in a figure eight that created sparks all around him... more bullets deflected. An instant later and the second sword left his hand... voluntarily this time as he hurled it like a dagger directly at the screen... Cyprus's head in real life.

Sai and Vanai both flinched backwards, while Thomas Glory, who'd been unobtrusively guarding the door from across the room swore loudly and profanely as all of them watched the jagged teeth of the chainblade grow larger and larger with seeming aching slowness. Then a dark object, recognizable only to Glory as the stock and body of a rifle, interposed itself between the camera and the weapon and then there was a huge explosion of sparks and the camera juddered and shook and showed a wildly gyrating view of the ceiling. Again Sai found himself holding his breath in worry, but Cyprus once again proved himself at least up to the challenge and the view quickly righted itself, Cyprus expressing his willingness to continue with several shots from his pistol, one of which struck Frost high on the left collarbone, blowing out a large puff of dark crimson and giving a brief view of shiny "bone" underneath, though natural bone didn't usually have a metallic sheen to it. Within seconds the bloody wound had clotted and dried over in a scab like belt leather and Frost paid the injury absolutely no more heed than a man might a particularly big mosquito bite. Asmodeus's pistol roared twice more and Cyprus apparently was forced to make a dive for his life, because once again the camera swung wildly and showed a very close up view of the floor for several seconds.

Meanwhile, Ashino's camera had seemingly been either torn off or otherwise destroyed, because there was no picture, though the auditory pickups were obviously still working just fine, due to the grunts of effort and the sound of blows that could be heard from that screen. When Cyprus regained his feet the situation became clear, though it was already obvious from the sounds what had been going on. Ashino and Frost were rolling around and around on the floor, punching and grappling at each other. At least thats what it looked like initially, but then Sai looked closer and his hopeful expression turned sour. Ashino had tried to grapple Frost to keep him away from Cyprus, and to some extent he'd succeeded. He'd grabbed him and picked him up and slammed him into a pillar. Then Frost had broken the grab and turned on Ashino with the fury of a blood-mad tiger. A single blow from Frost's fist slammed Ashino five feet backwards into the low atrium wall and the uppercut that followed pitched him up and over that same wall. Not letting up for a moment, Frost leapt up and landed astride Ashino and laid him out on the floor with a headbutt loud enough to be heard cleanly by Cyprus more than thirty feet away. Cyprus was exchanging pistol fire with Asmodeus, who had gone to ground near the western doorway, neither man was doing much besides pin the other down wile they both watched the BCPU's duke it out.

Sai watched Ashino rally for a moment, kneeing Frost squarely in the lower back and pushing him to the side, then flipping to his feet and launching a barrage of punches and kicks that each would have stunned a horse. Frost weathered the beating without any more comment than a wide and bloody grin. It was disconcerting, seeing punches with so much obvious power landing squarely but to so little effect. Sure, you'd see the like in movies every so often, but in reality, it wasn't easy to just let someone haul off and belt you as hard as they could and just shrug it off. Especially when they were hitting you in the face. Ashino threw one last punch but hit nothing but air as Frost drifted around and under the blow with contempt plain on his features, even from Cyprus's long range viewpoint. Frost caught Ashino's punching arm by the wrist with one hand and swung him up and off his feet and into a wall like a man would swing a large doll. Ashino cratered the plaster and wood backed wall and hung there dazed for a moment. Frost gave him no time to recover, pinning him to the wall with three short jabs to the abdomen and then letting him drop forward onto another uppercut that lifted him almost three feet into the air. When Ashino landed he fell in a heap and did not move, though he was apparently still breathing. Frost let him lie and turned to face Cyprus, who fired off two shots in his direction, both of which hit nothing but wall. Then Frost was charging, headed right at Cyprus, who tossed his pistol down, its slide locked back on empty. The last clear thing Sai and the people in the basement saw on the camera before it turned to a nonsensical static of whirling images was Asmodeus, Ashino's combat knife sticking out of his lower left side, slipping through the doorway that led to the basement stairs.

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Cyprus could feel the ebb and flow of the Focus strongly inside his mind and body. He'd been going for almost five minutes now and he felt sure he had at least five or ten more in him. Assuming he lived that long anyway, which was by no means assured. He watched as Frost wiped the floor with Ashino, weathering a series of punches that would have landed a normal person in intensive care with a smile on his face before retaliating with such fervour that Ashino was probably unconscious as soon as he hit the wall, regardless of the punches that followed. And now, that same supercharged terror was coming right at him, and he didn't have an augmented skeelton, toughened skin or any other gadgets and gear to help him survive the assault. All he had was his body armor, which was of limited use against strong blunt trauma and his combat knife, a foot long blade of mono-molecular steel edge. Well, those and more than a decade of the most intensive training his body could adapt to and the incredible clarity and reaction speed the Focus lent him. He watched Asmodeus hobble away through the doors leading to the hallway that allowed access to the basement and noted the knife sticking out of Asmodeus's left side. Not a vital location, but very painful and bloody. It would slow the older man considerably, but it wouldn't stop him.

Cyprus counter-charged Frost, something that quite obviously took the BCPU off guard. Naturally, he would be unused to people charging at him... he was used to playing the all powerful killer. Well, Cyprus had a few things to teach him about that... strength, speed, toughness and bloody-mindedness were well and good, but the best killers were the ones who fought cold. For instance, yes, if Frost caught him full on with a punch or other blow, it would almost certainly be all over for Cyprus. But a full on blow was harder to land than you might think, when you were as well versed in as many martial arts as Cyprus was. Cyprus transitioned smoothly from forward charge to spinning side kick, moving between the speeding blurs of Frost's fists with hairs to spare. The impact was incredible, shaking his legs to the bone and leaving a massive bruise on the bottom of his foot he couldn't afford to feel right now. Frost's nose snapped with a crunch of gristle, but barely bled at all and didn't even begin to stop him. Cyprus kicked off with his foot from Frost's face, twirling his body up into a high tuck to avoid the whistling snatching of Frost's arms as they came back to try and grab him. Really, the man was fast, but so too was Cyprus in the Focus and Frost, for all his speed and power, just didn't have the patience to use his trained skills well. He was a magnificent brawler, but against someone almost as fast as him, and better at understanding the flow of combat, he was at a disadvantage.

Cyprus could make up for the difference in speed by planning in advance what moves he would do and how Frost would react, given his personality and previously observed fighting techniques. His knife would make up for the difference in power and toughness. And his calm, relentless logic and extensive anatomical knowledge would match Frost's hatred and ferocity. He didn't fool himself... he was scared, but he used that fear as a motivating force to increase his performance even more. He landed from his tuck and immediately dropped onto his back as Frost bodily leapt at him, now over him, now being guided over him with Cyprus's legs in his gut, now being kicked into a pillar by Cyprus as he redirected the BCPU's momentum. Stone cracked a little from the impact, but Frost wasn't even close to down, catching himself on his hands and knees and charging back at the infuriating Natural with the hound mask. The bastard wasn't doing much that hurt, but he was refusing to go down like a good victim and it was pissing Frost off to no end. Ashino had played the game by the rules and was lying in a tenderized lump over across the room to prove the natural order of things still worked. His anger rose like a molten tide inside him and his vision started to red out.

Cyprus noted how agitated Frost was becoming, and factored that into his strategy. The angrier a person got, the more ruled by that emotion they became, which led to erratic behavior, sometimes even completely irrational in nature. That was one of the reasons Cyprus kept his own anger under the very tightest of emotional bonds. Cyprus spun under a punch from Frost and slammed into the shorter man with his shoulder. It was like diving into a brick wall, but he ignored the pain, hooked one leg under Frost's own and used his own punching balance shift to toss the BCPU to the ground in a heap. Almost as an afterthought he sliced the knife down and gouged a deep cut along Frost's chest, the knife grating against bone but not penetrating any further than that. Whatever they put into the BCPU's skeleton, Cyprus was impressed... he'd cut through vehicle armor with that knife before. Frost slapped the knife away before it could more than score a few ribs and he swarmed to his feet even more enraged than ever, even as the cut scabbed over with its usual impressive speed. How in all the names of hell the Natural had managed to claim first blood in the melee was not something he quite understood, but the shame of the thought was unbearable. He'd never felt so enraged, except maybe when dealing with Pink and her stupid boyfriend, Yamato.

Cyprus was noting something of concern... the angrier Frost got, the faster and stronger he was becoming. He did not know if the BCPU had some sort of limit he had not normally reached, much like Cyprus himself did, or if this was just some temporary side effect of drugs, but in any case, he needed to end this soon. Frost came at him again and this time Cyprus meant to end it. He stabbed forward with the knife and smiled inwardly in satisfaction as it sank into Frost's chest, sliding between the ribs instead of trying to cut across them. He frowned though, at the amount of resistance he encountered... he'd not expected the organs to be so extensively armored. The knife was barely a few inches in when Frost's arm snaked across and slapped the blade, breaking it between his reinforce ribs from the force of the blow. Frothing at the mouth, Frost didn't even bother to hit the shocked Cyprus, he just grabbed and threw him, ignoring the few inches of steel still embedded in his chest. Cyprus did what he could to break the fall, but it was a hard landing all the same. Plaster broke and wood splintered and it felt like he'd shattered every bone in his back and legs, but when he flopped down onto the cold marble floor he found himself still able to move all his limbs, albeit very painfully. He felt the ruined remains of his camera unit crumple into fragments beneath him and sighed. A hand grabbed him by the top of the mask and picked him up.

Cyprus played dead for a moment, then realized it was probably futile... Frost was beyond every remit of sanity, he wouldn't hesitate to tear a man limb from limb, dead or not, when he was as angry as he was now. Still in the Focus, though his vision was a bit blurry now, Cyprus watched Frost winding up a open hand slap that would probably powder his skull if it landed. He struck first, slamming two palm strikes into Frost's head, one on either eardrum. The BCPU shook his head and winced, but didn't do much else, besides grin even more nastily than ever. "Gonna die, you..." invective seemed to fail Frost. He frowned and then smiled again within the space of a second. "Gonna die..." he repeated.

"Everyone dies." Cyprus replied calmly, spearing his right hand into Frost's chest, his fingertips finding the broken off tip of his knife still imbedded in the BCPU's flesh. The point was still facing inward, but the broken part of the blade was sharp and jagged and cut easily through his glove and the skin beneath. It wasn't until his fingerbones hit the metal that anything happened. It hurt... it hurt a lot. The most painful thing he'd done to himself in a long time, to be sure. Steel grated on bone and then the force of the blow finally punched the armor piercing tip of the knife through the armor of Frost's right lung, through organ itself, out the back armor and out through his back, leaving Cyprus with his hand quite literally inside the other's body cavity. Any human, any Coordinator even would be down and done, in incredible agony, not to mention blood loss and loss of a major organ, but Frost barely even staggered. His lung proved to be as resilient as the rest of him, the tear quickly sealing up around the edges of the knife as the blood clotted, so quickly the lung didn't even deflate. He didn't even spit blood. "Some of us just don't die as quickly as others." It was the closest thing he'd come to voicing a complaint in almost a decade. His Focused mind scrambled for some new strategy, a tactic to get him out of this situation but he'd done about the worst, most painful thing he could think of and it hadn't had nearly the effect he'd desired.

Frost slowly swam out of the depths of his killing rage, lucidity warring with hate in painful flashes across his brain a thousand times more agonizing than the puny wounds the Hellhound was inflicting on him. Nothing short of catastrophic failure of three or four major organs would do more than slow him down for a little bit. If he lost his heart he had secondary pumping devices in his legs that would last nearly an hour, if his lungs failed his blood would be chemically oxygenated for almost thirty minutes, his internal systems could reroute portions of his nervous system to deal with damage to his spine through wiring that was good for at least a week and his liver was only one of three devices in his body that purified blood. Just about the only major organ he couldn't bypass for at least some time was his brain and that was the most heavily armored thing in his entire body. He found himself holding the Hellhound with one hand, with the other cocked back and wound up tight for a blow that would probably decapitate the man, who had one hand stuck inside Frost's chest while the other wavered at his side, clenched into a fist but quiescent for the moment. "That, my friend, is one of the truest things ever spoken." Frost replied. "Everyone is going to die... but some people are going to die first. I'm going to be doing the killing." He unwound his punching blow and then used that hand to bat away a lightning fast strike at his eyes. He forstalled any further fun and games from the soldier by bringing his hand down like a hammer on the man's shoulder, dislocating the limb and shattering the collar bone with a delicious crunch. The man grunted, and Frost could hear teeth grinding on teeth, but no scream issued forth.

"I'm not going to kill you just yet." Frost announced, using his hand to break the Hellhound mask apart at the seams, levering it off the soldier's head by force. It was probably not the most painless of experiences for the soldier, but that hardly mattered, did it? Frost stared into the grey eyes of the other, noting their washed out look, framed by the sweaty grey hair. "I'll be damned..."

"Not soon enough." Cyprus managed, yanking his hand out of Frost's chest and clawing for the eyes again. For his trouble he got his wrist broken, compound fracture style. Again, he gritted his teeth, not giving his foe the satisfaction of a scream. Frost barely noticed however, staring off into some memory Cyprus would probably never understood, and should probably be grateful for that mercy too.

"To think, we went to all that trouble to capture those Coordinators, and we had someone like you already in the organization. You could have been my brother, even my better, in a few years time. Ironic, isn't it?" Frost mused. "But then, you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?" Cyprus didn't answer, just stared icily at the BCPU. Frost shivered slightly, more a quiver of joy than anything. "Oooh, I know that stare. No relation to the dear Asmodeus, are you? No... not family... a student perhaps? Yes, that would make sense, wouldn't it?" He noted the lack of any sort of reaction at all, but he was used to that from dealing with Asmodeus. "You had me going there for a moment, Grey. Only person who's ever pissed me off more is Pink." No reaction. "Bet you're wondering why I'm going to spare your life?" No reaction. "THINK FAST!" he cried, punching at the man and stopping the blow just short, so his knuckles barely touched the tip of Grey's nose. Not even a blink. Frost shivered again, getting goosebumps of happiness. "You're a lot of fun, Grey. Either you're genuinely not afraid of me, or you're absolutely senseless crazy. Which is it?" No reaction.

"All right then, since you're such an avid listener, why don't I do a bit of talking eh? Here, walk with me, my Grey friend. We'll go see Sai and lovely Vanai and Asmodeus together." Frost said cheerily, turning and heading towards the hallway to the basement, dragging Cyprus along with him by the collar of his body armor. Cyprus considered struggling, but with both his arms out of commission there wasn't much he could do. Much as he would hate to admit it, he was at Frost's capricious mercy at the moment. Frost paused once, to grab Ashino by his own collar with his other hand and drag him along as well. Ashino remained limp, well and truly down and out for the count. "See, my father, that is, The Doc, finally up and told me about my destiny in life, shortly before I crushed the life out of him. And what a destiny it is. What is it, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You see, it all has to do with peace..."

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Glory stood and stared at the door, the only door in or out of the room they were in. His automatic shotgun was in his hands and it too was aimed at the door. They'd all seen where Asmodeus was going, right before they lost the view and audio from Cyprus's camera. That had been almost five minutes ago, and Glory knew the enemy couldn't be that far away now. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his chin inside his oversized helmet. Sai stood by Vanai in her recliner at the far end of the room, right next to the podium they'd set up for him to speak from, hoping it would never come to that. Well, that had been a vain hope. It was coming to that right now. Glory forced himself to concentrate on the door and only on the door. He couldn't let himself worry about Cyprus going up against the killer Frost. So what if no Natural or Coordinator had ever stood up to him in a hand to hand fight and won? So what if Ashino had been dominated like a little girl on a rugby field. That didn't mean that the Lieutenant would share their fate. He was the goddam LIEUTENANT, the end all, be all of the EFSOU. The ultimate soldier. Glory's best friend and commander. He would be fine... just fine. He'd beat the monster, Beowolf to Grendel style and then he'd skip along over and break Asmodeus's neck like a twig, just in a few momen... the doorknob twisted and rattled as someone tried the lock.

"DIE, MOTHERFUCKER, DIE!" Glory shouted and hosed down the door and two feet of the walls to either side with fully automatic shotgun fire, reloading three times before finally regaining control of his emotions. It had been childish and unprofessional, but he had to admit, he felt a lot better now. He had about five seconds to feel satisfied with himself before the remnants of the door blew inwards under the force of a breaching charge, the shockwave from which picked him up and threw him backwards a good five or six feet to land hard, stunned and groggy, on his back. Three flash grenades rode the shockwave into the room, their brilliant light and supersonic cracks further incapacitating any resistance that might have remained in the room. By the time his vision and hearing had returned to any semblance of normal working order, it was far too late to mount a defense. Asmodeus had already strolled almost casually into the room, pistol already drawn, field dressing in place over his wounded side, Ashino's blade tucked through his belt, a two meter telescopic rod tipped with a quick drying glue held in his other hand. Glory blearily recognized the tool, which was often used for prodding doors and other suspicious locations to test for pressure sensitive plates or traps. With a bit of glue on it, all Asmodeus had to do was sneak to the door, plant his charge, sneak away and jostle the knob a bit to provoke a reaction. Maybe there was a reason the guy had been the leader of the Hellhounds.

"I decline at this time, but eventually I'm sure I'll be able to oblige you, Sergeant-Major." Asmodeus said, his voice on slightly ragged from the muted pain of his stab wound. Painkillers were a wonderful, wonderful thing. He looked around the room calmly. "Not a bad setup, for an improvised job. Put in a new security system, did you? And what are these... camera views from your soldiers? Inventive. Sadly, I hope you weren't under the impression that all this media equipment means even a little bit of a damn all." Asmodeus continued, his voice becoming slick and hard like tomb ice. "Obviously, the first thing we did was set up a communications blackout over this island. Nothing has gone out and nothing can come in. Not for at least another few hours anyway. Your pathetic attempt to gather evidence of this intervention has all been for naught. Much like your rebellion against Blue Cosmos itself."

"I am no rebel, merely a voluble, dissenting voice. One of many, I might add." Sai replied, fighting to maintain a calm composure. He was on live TV after all, even if Asmodeus didn't know that. "Freedom of Speech is still an unimpeachable right of the EA citizen."

"Right's have no place in Blue Cosmos." Asmodeus said, aiming his pistol directly between Sai's eyes, even as he cautiously moved over and kicked the shotgun away from the supine Glory. "Especially not freedom of speech. Well, you are free to speak anything you please... as long as you agree with your superiors."

"And it is for that reason I can no longer be a part of your Blue Cosmos. The Blue Cosmos I believe in does not set the views of its members... it takes the views of its members and makes them its own." Sai said, staring into the massive muzzle like it was the most interesting thing in the world to him. At the moment he couldn't tell if it wasn't.

"Very pretty. But words are just that... vibrations in the air, nothing more meaningful than the sound of a pistol shot." Asmodeus said stiffly, becoming bored with the boy already. "Vanai, your father is extremely angry with you and is most disappointed to boot. For all that, he's still your father and he loves you, despite what he may have said in the heat of the moment. I'm very sorry, but I have orders to kill your husband, directly from your father. Next time, we'll choose someone a bit more ideologically sound for you to marry. Please, step down from the recliner and come over here, now."

"I'm fine where I am, thanks." Vanai retorted. Behind his mask, Asmodeus's eyes hardened and a frown creased his face.

"We can do this two ways, dearheart. My way, in which you walk out of here under your own power... or Frost's way, in which he carries you, willingly or not. It is your choice."

"I'll stay with my husband. Marriage vows and all that, I'm sure you understand. You had a wife once, didn't you? Or was that someone else, I find it hard to imagine a woman who could fall in love with a snake like you?" she made the question a barbed taunt... Asmodeus's wife had died in childbirth back around the time she herself had been born. She couldn't tell what expression he had behind his mask, but she would bet it wasn't happy.

"Very well then. You're old enough to have children, I'm sure you're old enough to make your own decisions, wrong or right." Asmodeus's voice was brittle indeed. Glory twitched at his feet and Asmodeus switched his aim in a heartbeat, putting a shot into the wall next to Glory's head. "Don't do that, Sergeant-Major, I'm already in a bad mood. I'd prefer not to have to kill you, though I'm afraid it's probably too late for Cyprus now... Frost doesn't tend to leave much in the way of survivors when he has his way."

"What's the point of leaving me alive then?" Glory asked sarcastically. "You're going to kill the best chance for peace the world has, but you're going to let me live?"

"Since when did you care about peace, Glory?"

"Since a good while before you guys ordered that colossal FUCKUP in ORB! But that was the major catalyst right there. I'm a Hellhound, sir and damn fucking proud of it! But that doesn't mean I eat babies for breakfast and drink blood for supper. I'm a human being and by and large, I care about my fellow humans. Sure, I'll ice 'em if they shoot at me or if the mission calls for it, but I won't bring a FUCKING MOBILE SUIT in to break up a PEACE PROTEST and ravage a goddamn CITY, full of citizens lawfully exercising their RIGHTS!" Glory snapped. "Also, I wouldn't assassinate my own son in law just because he didn't want to play ball with my strong arm tactics for prolonging a goddamn nuclear war!"

"You've become defunct, Glory. You're not nearly the razor edge I remembered you as." Asmodeus sounded disappointed. "Very well, I'll end your misery then, after I complete my mission."

"Let me get one thing straight, sir. Did you or did you not condone Purgatory Day?" Glory hissed.

"Protesting it would have been pointless. Cervantes was not of a mind to be lenient." Asmodeus answered after a few moments.

"That is another reason why I can no longer sit idly by and let Cervantes Zunnichi run the world into the ground." Sai cut in firmly. "What good is a leader that refuses to listen to his subordinates... that's just a despot, not a leader."

"Despot... maybe so. But despotic rule seems to be getting the job done, doesn't it? After all, it's what the people of the EA chose. Well, its what their leaders chose for them, but it amounts to the same thing. You're more than aware of it of course. The President and the Security council don't govern the Earth Alliance any more than the individual member state governments govern their states. Everyone takes their orders from Blue Cosmos, whether they believe it or not. And Blue Cosmos takes its orders from Cervantes. And currently, his orders run to the effect of "Kill Sai Argyle before his ridiculous efforts at attaining peace disrupt the important phases of the plan for the total annihilation of the Coordinator race from this universe." Not quite verbatim, but you understand the gist of it."

"I understand that the Earth Alliance is currently taking its orders from a genocidal madman, without a hint of morals or ethics." Sai goaded.

"Well, then you do understand. I'm so glad for you. It would be unpleasant to die without understanding why."

"I do have one question, a personal question."

"Oh really, do tell." Asmodeus was having an almost out of body experience. Probably the pain killers, but goddamn he was just so tired of deception now... his entire life was one big constant deception and he was tired of it for the moment.

"Why? Why do you allow him to act like this? You're one of his only friends... why don't you stop him? You might be the only person who can." Sai asked, his words heartfelt. He got a response quicker than he thought he would and it chilled him to the soul.

"Why should I care what happens to the world? Don't you see... my family is dead, killed by Coordinators. I had my revenge, so even that is denied to me now. My life is empty. Nothing matters to me, I live life because thats what life does, not because I want to. I follow Cervantes because that is what I've always done. I'm not sure we're friends anymore... neither of us really needs a friend. I need a boss who will give any order and he needs a subordinate who will follow any order. That is the extent of our current relationship. I have no interest in stopping him, because if he is stopped then I will have even less reason to exist than I do now and that is the one thing I cannot bear." Asmodeus replied, his voice totally drained of all feeling, so dead that dry didn't even come close.

"We are alike." Frost commented, from where he'd just walked through the door. He laid Ashino down and then dragged Cyprus along with him as he continued to walk into the room. "See, I was telling Grey here my master plan. He didn't like it very much, but thats nothing less than I expected. What can I say... plebes will always be jealous of the worthy." He glanced sidelong at Asmodeus. "Such emptiness in your soul, Asmodeus. It truly makes me feel quite brotherly. Now you just need to travel down, past desolation into madness and hatred and you'll be just like I was, before the Doc revealed to me my purpose. And what a purpose, eh, Grey?" Cyprus didn't say a word, he just stared at Frost with utter loathing... itself enough of a reaction to get Frost giggling. "See, I'm the greatest peacemaker in the room right now. How is that you ask... oops, not in front of the camera."

"It doesn't matter. Remember, the communications interdiction." Asmodeus pointed out.

"So true. And yet so not." Frost replied, grinning mightily. He knew he had everyone's attention then. He raised his hand and pointed casually off past the podium, past the recliner where Vanai was sitting. "You may not have noticed, but on that computer screen back there, there are the words "Land Line Connection Stable". I'm not sure if lovely Vanai is sitting there as a purposeful screen or if its all an terrible accident as I'm sure they didn't want to hide that information from you. You didn't say anything incriminating, did you, dear Asmodeus?"

"How long have you known?" Asmodeus asked after several long seconds, his voice unchanged but his posture slightly slumped.

"About ten seconds longer than you, I'd imagine, considering I just now spotted it. If I'd known I was performing on live TV I would have been much more brutal. Grey, you dog, you should have told me." Frost said playfully.

"You have about ten minutes before the police, national guard, Navy, Army, Air Force, Marines who will be extra pissed about you borrowing a MAGOS unit for an illegal political assassination by the way, EFSOU and probably several mobile suits arrive." Glory pointed out. "I'd imagine they're most preturbed."

"Nine minutes, forty three seconds at the outside, assuming no major incidents suffered during deployment." Cyprus clarified helpfully. He was almost smiling. "To use the idiom of some of my soldiers, I think you've gone and screwed the pooch here, Asmodeus. Whatever it was you said to Sai just got broadcast over the entire world AND to the PLANTS. As well as any other helpful conversations you may have had with anyone wearing a camera harness."

Asmodeus stared at Sai for almost ten seconds, then slowly lowered his pistol. "Well played. I'd imagine Cervantes is less than pleased with me right now."

"I'm sure there is a relatively long list, but he's probably at the top, yes." Sai said, determined to stay casual in what might become the moment of victory. "Order your troops to stand down and I'll do what I can to ensure they aren't involved in this any more than they have to be."

"No... that's all right. Better they all die. It's what soldiers do, in wars." Asmodeus replied, tossing his gun to the ground. He went over and borrowed a chair from a computer station along the wall and collapsed down into it. His sigh was clearly audible throughout the room.

"You really don't care about anything, do you, sir?" Glory said into the shocked silence. "Losing your son really destroyed you."

"Don't pity me, Glory or I'll frag this entire room." Asmodeus said curtly, touching one hand to a row of grenades along his chest. "You may have won, but if you provoke me I will make a point to not let you enjoy your victory."

"Hey, hey, I'm still here, you know!" Frost piped up. "Sure, the whole Blue Cosmos rules the world gig is dead and gone now, but that doesn't mean give up the ghost. We can still kill people! There's always that!"

"Shut up, Zacharis." Asmodeus's voice was very quiet. "If you want to kill them all, go ahead and do it. But these people are your only chance of getting off this island alive and I still get the feeling you're not ready to die yet, especially with all this babble about a purpose."

"Uhh... don't know about you, but I'm a psycho killer. What makes you think they'll let me leave alive even if I do spare them?" Frost pointed out, but his argument was half hearted. He knew Asmodeus was right, damn it.

"These people..." Asmodeus waved his hands blankly at the entire room. "They believe in these things called "Rights". One of them is a Right to a fair trial by your peers. In your case that may be difficult to enact to the letter of the law, but I'm sure they'll come up with something. Whether they want to or not, now that they've gone and babbled off to me about how we abuse their rights, they cannot very well go violating them for us. Especially because they announced everything worldwide over the TV, just like us. No, they cannot kill you out of hand... it would ruin everything they've gained today if they did."

"FUCK!" Glory cried, catching on to what Asmodeus was saying at last. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GODDAMN IT!" he slammed his fists into the ground. "You mean we have to let them live so they can go to trial!?"

"That's how it works. Your justice system at work, always willing to give the villians a better than even chance at getting away." Asmodeus said bitterly. "Not that we'll be so lucky. There's not a government judiciary in the world that would rule in our favor... they'd be lynched in a hour. I revealed some very unpleasant and deeply buried truths today, truths which lead to very uncomfortable questions for every world and industry leader, as well as most of the upper echelon military staff." He looked over at Sai, his head moving limply and almost listlessly on his neck. "I don't suppose you could shut that blasted link off now, could you? It's all well and good that you played me for a fool, but broadcasting my acknowledgements of your victory is almost more than I can bear."

"Of course." Sai replied, tapping a security code into the computer that let him shut it down. "I appreciate you being so civilized about this, Asmodeus. I'll admit, its more than I expected."

"Whatever I may have lost when Ray died, I've not lost my professionalism. Killing you all would be satisfying, but it wouldn't change anything. I don't do senseless killing. That's what Frost is for."

"You rang?" Frost looked up from where he'd gone to sit against a wall, Cyprus's un-dislocated arm draped over his shoulders while Frost held his wrist so he couldn't get away. "My killing isn't senseless. It's more of a sensual orgy. Not that I'd expect you to understand, just yet. Give it a few more weeks at this rate and maybe you and I will be able to actually hold a meaningful conversation for once. Kind of like the ones I have with my good buddy, Grey here. Isn't that right, Grey?" Cyprus didn't even deign to look at Frost anymore, he just tolerated the BCPU's games because he knew they would be over soon. He still wasn't sure why Frost was playing the game, unless it was just because he was sick and insane, which was more than enough reason. "Isn't he just a talkative little ninny? I love this guy! Did you know he's really, truly not afraid of me? I just can't get over it. I mean, two kindred souls like us... hell with Asmodeus we're almost a trinity. A father... a son... and a holy grey ghost. God, I feel like I'm babbling. Am I annoying anyone? Well tough." He kept up an almost nonstop stream of playful digs and verbal gobblygook for the next seven minutes and twenty seven seconds, at which time hundreds of soldiers from dozens of different units descended upon the island, snuffing out the completely surprised MAGOS troops with barely a struggle and taking everyone remaining on the island into protective custody.


	81. Rising Threat

Even in defeat, Cervantes was impeccably dressed. He'd been incarcerated two nights previous, after nearly two regiments of extremely unhappy EA soldiers had showed up to the temporary quarters he'd secured in Panama while the BCPU project area was being rebuilt. At first he'd had no idea what was going wrong and he'd blustered and threatened probably more than he should have. In retrospect, he might have been shot right then and there, if the troops had been a little more touchy. Then he'd seen the taped video of the broadcast from his Hawaiin mansion. That had cleared things up remarkably. He suddenly understood why there were four guards sharing the room with him at all times and why there looked to be an entire mobile suit regiment guarding the brig he was in. There were people... very powerful people... very numerous people... who would very much like to see him dead. He wouldn't give them the pleasure. For that reason he had completely abstained from food of all sorts during his incarceration, and had a random guard sip test his water each time he was thirsty. No sense dying of poison before he could spill the beans and drag the entire world leadership down into hell with him. If they thought they could make him a scapegoat, they were dreaming. He had no doubt a massive scramble to destroy and/or change all evidence of involvement with Blue Cosmos was underway at this very moment, but there was no way they could get to it all. If nothing else, there was the backup mainframe at the ruins of JIHAD, which had a copy of everything. As soon as he entered the courtroom and saw the first camera, he was going to start singing like a canary. And he was going to keep singing until every last person who'd had even miniscule involvement in his Puritan Blue Cosmos was burning on the cross with him.

But that was later. Today was the pre-trial. It was not a public affair. It wasn't even going to be a publicly known fact that there WAS a pre-trial. And for once, the secret would actually be kept, because of the VERY important people that were going to be present. As in, almost every senior person in every major EA government around the world, all his industry peers and all of the JCoS (Joint Chiefs of Staff, who controlled the military). He didn't know why they were even bothering with the whole ordeal, except maybe they wanted to gloat in their false hope. He was sure they were going to haul him over the coals for his history of failure... Carpentaria... Washington DC... Orb... Hawaii... JIHAD... the whole BCPU project, which the human rights people were going to have an absolute feeding frenzy over... it was a long list. His only comfort wasn't even a comfort. Asmodeus and Zacharis would also be at the pre-trial, having been identified as accomplices to the whole deal somehow. Well, they were, but how they could possibly think to lump them into the same category as Cervantes baffled him. They were pawns and he was the king... an entirely different class of being. He dressed to show it too... he wore his best suit, the one made from cerulean blue silk, with the blue diamond tie pin, striped blue and white tie, snow white dress shirt and dress shoes and his cane. All in all, the outfit cost more than a hundred soldiers made in year. He walked with pride, looking neither left nor right, up or down. People turned to look and point and whisper at him as he was escorted by a dozen MP's and a dozen members of the AF secret service through the underground tunnel system of Panama base to the secluded briefing theatre where the pre-trial was being held. He ignored them as insects and inferiors deserved to be ignored.

Asmodeus was already standing inside the theatre when Cervantes arrived. His associate of longest standing... Cervantes could no longer call him friend, as that was something that was long gone between them... was dressed in his EFSOU Hellhounds full dress uniform, resplendent with various medals, citations and awards, but naturally lacking any form of weapon, even the ceremonial dress sword. Asmodeus was waiting in the middle of the floor of the theatre, looking up at the tiers of seats where the dignitaries would be seated in a matter of minutes. His own entourage of guards and gaolers watched him warily from the walls, hands on their weapons at all times, as if Asmodeus was any sort of threat to them. Cervantes could see how stiffly the man was standing, due to the deep stab wound in his left side that Ashino, blasted traitorous Ashino, had inflicted. Denied strong painkillers for fear of a suicide attempt, Asomdeus was forced to rely on local anasthetics to dull the pain of the wound, which he was tolerating with stoic near fatalism. He barely even looked over at Cervantes as his boss was escorted into the room and allowed to walk over to him, though several men from each security detail made sure to drift over to overhear any communication between the two fallen men. Cervantes noted the dull, flat look in his associate's eyes. No longer were they the piercing blue laser eyes that Asmodeus practically had trademarked... that life had fled from them... when precisely Cervantes was still working out. Neither said anything for almost a full minute.

Asmodeus breathed a deep sigh. "I suppose you're rather angry with me, aren't you, sir?"

Cervantes sighed himself and glanced idly at his six hundred thousand dollar watch. "'Deus, my feelings toward you are so far beyond anger that I find I have no descriptive terms powerful enough for them."

"Well, 'Vantes, you have my apology. I don't know what came over me... I must really be getting old and tired, to mess up so badly. Of course they had a secret land line connection. Naturally. Its what anyone would do."

"Sarcasm does not become you now any more than it did in the past, 'Deus. Stick to irony, its much safer." Cervantes recommended. There was another long silence. What was there to say to one another, really?

"You're going to try and drag them all down with you, aren't you, 'Vantes?" Asmodeus asked as the silence approached a minute in length.

"Of course I am. And I'm going to succeed, 'Deus. There is simply too much evidence for them to successfully hide it all. What about you?"

"Well, I was thinking of trying to fight the system for a while, 'Vantes. Spring the good old entrapment defence on them, since they recorded my conversation without my knowledge or consent. Did some thinking though and figured they'd probably toss that idea right out, given that I was on an illegal assassination mission at the time. Funny phrase that... is there any place where assassination is legal?" Asmodeus continued on without waiting for a reply. "No, 'Vantes, I'm going to just sit there and stare them down the whole time. The silent treatment. They cannot force me to talk. I've learned my lesson... when I start talking, thats when I get into trouble."

"For what it's worth, 'Deus, I'd like to thank you for your long years of faithful and dependable service and companionship." Cervantes said pleasantly. "I hope you burn in hell, you fucking insane nihilistic son of a bitch."

"Well, 'Vantes, I'd like to thank you for the friendship we had, truly, I spent the best years of my life in your service." Asmodeus replied with equal pleasantness. "I'll be there right in the bonfire next to yours, you goddamn meglomanical sociopathic bastard."

Both men turned to look at each other and shared a smile of mutual loathing, then shook hands for the final time. Silence reigned again, with the escort details exchanging looks and tense mutters about just how fucked up their charges were. Finally, the third member of the accused party was escorted into the room, all grins. Frost wore a simple set of orange prison coveralls, without any sort of identifying marks besides a patch on each shoulder with the designation "13Z" on it. He was shackled at wrist and ankle, with a chain running between the two sets of cuffs. He walked in an exaggerated shamble, as the cuffs were just ordinary steel, designed for restraining humans. Because the existence of BCPU's was, until very recently a super secret, there were very few people who knew what exactly was needed to do to secure him. Happily, in Frost's view, all of those people were currently under arrest and weren't being listened to. His instincts were buzzing, telling him that big things were afoot at this time, so he'd played the docile psycho killer for the last few days, though it had been hard. He'd been so tempted to slaughter everyone he could reach... and he could reach a lot from the small cell they thought he would be confined in. But something had made him stay his hands. They itched with the need to be painted in blood again.

Frost noted the askance glances that both Cervantes and Asmodeus shot his minimal restraints, but neither man said anything to anyone. What did they care if Frost broke loose and massacred a bunch of people? He wasn't their problem anymore. He was... someone elses. No one was yet sure just who was in charge of the EA now. He nodded to them both. "Lovely day for an interrogation. Birds are singing, weathers fine and sunny... or so I hear."

"Shut up, Frost." Asmodeus said, moody to a fault. Cervantes just ignored him as a being unworthy to speak to. One did not converse with ones tools.

"Don't get pissed at me. It's far too late to be angry now." Frost pointed out. "The only real question is: how are they going to kill us? I wanna have my head chopped off. Oo, oo or be drawn and quartered. Close tie between those two."

"Shut up, Frost!" Asmodeus growled. "Bad enough that everything I've ever worked for in my life has been brought crashing down around my ankles due to ten minutes of misplaced confidence, I don't need your insane babbling making it hard to look back at my life's memories."

"So, do you think Pink will show up to the trial?" Frost asked slyly. "I should be so lucky, eh?" Asmodeus turned and stared at him, some of the ice back in his stare.

"Zacharis... nobody cares. It's over. We're all dead men here. The only question is when. They'll use a lethal injection, by the way."

Frost sidled over so that he was right next to Asmodeus. "Asmodeus... you just don't get it. It's barely begun. All we've ever been is dead men, the question is not when... the question remains: How?" Before Asmodeus could respond to the surprisingly frank comment from Zacharis, their guard details hustled over and seperated them all. The reason for this soon became obvious, as various military officers and government dignitaries began filing into the in small groups. The spectators had arrived to gawk at the beasts in their cage. Each of the condemned reacted differently. Cervantes met the stare of each and every person that walked into the room... met their stare and forced them to look away, as it was the only victory he would win against that person this day. He savored this pointless but satisfying exercise of will. Asmodeus stared blankly around the room, looking past the people, rather than at them, his mind in a very faraway place. Zacharis studied the room. It was one of a couple extremely secure rooms reserved for briefing the most sensitive of missions or strategies. There was only a single entrance, the solid steel double doors that the fodder were even now walking through. The entire room was shielded against emissions of all sorts, meaning no signals in and no signals out. There wasn't even a land line this time. The seating looked like it would accomodate about two hundred people, and Frost expected the room to be filled to capacity, if not a little more. A lot of people wanted to be in on this moment, a moment when an arch-tyrant fell from power once and for all, as one of his guards had commented.

He also took note of each important person that came in. The president of the AF... the presidents of the other world nations, their assorted assistants, VP's, chiefs of staff and other functionaries. Then there were the super rich lords of industry and commerce, all grouped in a bunch. Last there were the military officers, the generals and the admirals who had implemented Cervantes's plans and who had privately railed against the inclusion of a civilian, no matter how poerful, into the sacred concerns of the professional military. After about twenty minutes of arrivals, the doors shut at last, with a heavy and reassuring "thump-click" of an engaging security mechanism. There was no time wasted, almost as soon as the doors shut the AF president stepped up to a microphone. "We're all extremely busy people, so we're going to keep this as short as we can. First I'd like to thank everyone for coming in support for this examination. Everyone currently in this room already knows why we are here and we can dispense with the usual bluster and facades. There are no cameras here, no communications in or out. What is said and done in this room will always stay in this room, for all of history. With that said, I'd like to make one comment. To whit... GODDAMN YOUR COLOSSAL ARROGANCE AND MEGLOMANIA, CERVANTES ZUNNICHI!" the president roared the last line as loud as he could. The echoes bounced around the room for nearly ten seconds afterwards.

"Thank you." the AF president said, wiping his brow with a cloth to calm himself down. "With that aside, I'll turn the floor over to the JSoC."

"Ahem..." An eldery man, wearing the uniform of a five star general, tapped his microphone. "I'd just like to say that I heartily agree with the AF president. Mr. Zunnichi, the crime you have done to us all is beyond the remit of forgiveness. I would hope you're sorry, but given the look we traded on my way in, I frankly doubt it. The purpose of this examination is not to determine guilt. That has already been predetermined." there were chuckles from all around, though not from any of the condemned. "This examination's purpose is to determine the full extent of your guilt. Just how much are you going to admit to? We all know you have a vindictive streak ten miles wide, and we aren't stupid. You won't become a scapegoat willingly."

"You actually think I'm going to just talk to you morons?" Cervantes asked, incredulous. "You wish to know what I'm going to do? Fine... I'm going to bring the world to its knees. All of you will be impeached, fired or court martialed, assuming they can find anyone of sufficient authority to oversee, assuming thats anyone except the local police, because I'm going to bring down the full system from presidents to messenger boys. If I cannot have my Blue and Pure world, then nobody will."

"That's about what I expected." the president of the EF commented. "All right, Cervantes, let me go over what's already happened to you. You have no property. You have no businesses. You have no money. You have nothing, not even those clothes on your back, which will be confiscated when you leave. You no longer have a social security number, fingerprints, retina scans, genetic identification or any sort of picture ID. All of your medical, dental and financial records have been erased. You are nothing and no one. You will not go to trial. You will be taking the next shuttle up to orbit, and then you'll be taking a one way trip through an airlock without a spacesuit. We already have a double prepared, who will stand trial in your place. Similar procedures will be enacted for Mr. Sark. Mr. Frost will consigned to a EA sponsered asylum for the criminally insane, where he will live out the rest of his days in maximum security lockdown, most likely sedated and strapped blindfolded to a table."

"You can't do that!" Cervantes sputtered, aghast. "It's against every last law in the book!"

"Didn't stop you, did it? Why should it stop us?" a unidentified voice called from the commercial sector of the room. "Besides, it's already been done and its rather hard to undo."

"I told you, we've been dead men all along. The only question is: how?" Frost called to Asmodeus.

"THE CONDEMNED WILL REMAIN SILENT!" the five star general cried.

"Fuck you." Frost retorted. "What are you going to do, kill me if I don't shut up? Throw me out an airlock? Don't make me laugh."

"You're insane. But we can make your stay in the asylum pleasant or unpleasant... its very hard to tell when an insane man is in agony because the wrong drugs are being pumped into him or because hes in the middle of a fit the drugs are trying to calm." another industry icon pointed out.

"Ooh, I'm almost scared. Not really though." Frost countered. He looked around. No one looked at all alarmed to see him. They just thought he was a normal guy, helpless to change their verdict. His instinct was sending a warm, happy feeling through him. This was the time he'd been waiting for, the moment in history when he could finally start down the path that would lead him to his destiny. He wouldn't have to pretend anymore... he could be himself, gloriously himself, with no one to judge him. No... he'd be doing the judging, in an aptly named avatar. "You people are all fools, by the way."

"Humor us. What makes you say that?" the president of the AF said, looking smug.

Zacharis Frost jerked his head at Cervantes. "Because you all think he's the greatest threat to the security of the world in this room. And that's... just... not... true." he emphasized each word carefully.

"What do you mean? Be clear." the president of the EF demanded. Cervantes turned and sent a demonic glare at Frost, wondering what the little freak was getting at.

"Remember, Asmodeus... it's all about HOW!" Zacharis Frost shouted the last word, snapping out of his cuffs with a single convulsive jerk. There was a hiss of surprise and worry from the audience, and the security details started forward, reaching for their weapons. None of them were anywhere near fast enough. Zacharis reached the first man just as the agent was beginning to reach into his jacket and he tore the man's head right off his shoulders with one hand. He threw himself headlong into a group of the agent's compatriots after tossing the head in a long ballistic arc to land directly in front of the AF president. Of the thirty six secret service agents in the room, precisely twelve managed to clear their weapons before being overwhelmed by the streaking dervish. Of those twelve, only four were able to fire them. And of those four, only one got anywhere close. And he still missed by a good half a foot. It was truly a wolf among sheep, a raging dragon in a cattle pen, bull in a china shop, whatever euphanism you wanted to use for a slaughterhouse. Once the guards were down, it became a game of ghost in the graveyard, battlefield rules. Groups of dignitaries, officers and civilians would try and rush for the doors out while Frost was busy tearing their companions into gobbets of meat with his bare hands, only to be intercepted and rent horribly themselves as soon as anyone got within twenty feet of the door. The reasoning many had was that there was no way a single unarmed man could kill fast enough to prevent some people from slipping out the door and getting help. Problem was, Frost wasn't a man and he could kill fast enough.

From first man killed to last dignitary dismembered, the entire procedure took almost fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of hell for the people trapped in the room. Fifteen minutes of heaven for Zacharis Frost. There were at least fifty soldiers right outside the room, but with no way of communicating or hearing what was going on inside, they stayed safely on their side of the doors, as they had been ordered to do until the door was opened from the inside. After the fifteen minutes were up, there were only three people left alive in the room. Zacharis. Asmodeus. Cervantes. Zacharis was standing by the doors, exultant, smeared in more blood and guts than he had been for months. Asmodeus was looking around idly, bored and accepting of the whole thing. He expected to be ripped apart any minute now and was frankly wishing Frost would go ahead and get it over with. Cervantes surveryed the wreckage of the room with a satisfied grin on his face. He'd moved only once or twice, to avoid thrown body parts and the huge slick of crimson that was spreading across the floor. Seeing that the last of his so called peers was nothing more than a loose collection of meat parts, he cracked his cane down twice in triumph and spun on his heels to head for the door. But now Frost was standing right in front of him, with the most unnerving of looks on his face.

"Get out of my way, Frost. You've done well, but there is much for me to do... reconstructing my life for one and killing Sai for another. I don't know how you failed to do it last time, but given what you've just done for me, I'll forgive it."

"Oh, and what have I done for you?" Frost asked, puzzled.

"I wouldn't expect you to fully understand the implications of all this." Cervantes waved his hand at the abattoir the room had become. "But suffice it to say you've created one hell of a power vacuum. One that will need filling if humanity is to have any chance of fending off the space monsters."

"Oh, I see. So you're going to take over again eh? Rule from behind the scenes, pin all the blame on the dead people here?" Frost asked. Cervantes shrugged and nodded.

"Oversimple, but good enough for a soldier."

"And how do Asmodeus and I fit into this plan?"

"Well, naturally I'll be rewarding you for your efforts today. Err, I'm not entirely sure what you want, but I'll find some way to get it to you. As for Asmodeus... well, one slip up too many, if you catch my drift. I'd take it very kindly if you could make a "special" end for him."

"That's going to be difficult." Frost said casually. Cervantes frowned, not understanding.

"But you killed all those people with ease..."

"I like Asmodeus more than I like you. He and I are beginning to have a lot in common, once he breaks himself out of his fugue." Frost said cheerily. "As for what I want, well, don't worry about it too much. I'll get it myself. Right now."

"What do you me..." Cervantes never got to finish his sentence. There was a feeling of immense pressure on his chest and a feeling like his ribcage was being yanked out of his body. There were several splintering cracks and then a tide of agonizing numbness that flooded his entire being. He coughed, and saw himself spitting huge gobbets of red. He looked down... at the ruin of his prized blue suit. There was a massive hole in his chest, with reddish-purple bits sticking out of it along with long straight white things he belatedly realized were bones... ribs to be precise. His body seemed so heavy suddenly and he fell to his knees, leaning hard on his cane. Zacharis Frost held up a hand to him and he found his slowly dimming gaze drawn almost inexorably to what it contained. It was another reddish-purple glob of matter, more regular in shape, with lots of little tubes sticking out of the top. It pulsed very slightly once or twice. It was his heart. He tried to scream, but it was far, far too late. The last sight the lord and master of Blue Cosmos ever saw was the explosion of flesh as Zacharis Frost, his own prize creation, his frankenstein monster, his sharpest sword, crushed his still beating heart in his open fist.

"That's what I mean." Frost told the fresh corpse. "You have no idea how good it felt to finally do that. I've literally been waiting all my life to do it. You made it a very special moment, you unbelievable asshole." he spat on the corpse and turned away. He looked over at Asmodeus, who was still regarding the walls with disinterest. "I'm not going to do it, Asmodeus. If you want to take your own life, that's your choice, but your blood will never stain my hands, soul brother. What I said to you won't make any sense for now, but I'm confident that lunacy will soon make everything exceedingly, painfully clear. When it does, you be sure to get into contact with me... assuming theres anything left to contact me about." Frost paused, as if waiting for a response. There was none. "Good luck, soul brother. We'll meet again, I'm sure. But right now, I've got some business with Fury and Judgement." Frost walked over to the door, grabbing two pistols from the floor as he did so. He stared at the door, that, once opened, would begin him on the path to his destiny and breathed a sigh of anticipation. Then his blood spattered palm slapped the door controls and the completely free, completely unrestrained Zacharis Frost, BCPU 6 and fledgling Scourge of Humanity exploded out into the hallways underneath Panama Spaceport.

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"The Military Council is right. Now is the time to strike." Jeremiah Borander said confidently to his older brother. George Borander snorted and nodded his head in agreement, all the while shaking his head at the cost of the campaign that was being proposed even then at the Supreme Council meeting.

"It's still too soon after Carpentaria. We don't have the forces to spare for a campaign of this magnitude." George protested. Both men were seated in his office in the main BoranderCorp factory, looking down at the top secret production floor where the final adjustments were being made to the Pulsar. "It's the right time, you're right. But is it the right thing to do? I don't think so."

"You're too cautious, Bro." Jeremiah chided. "The ground forces got their asses kicked, all right. But we're not planning a terrestrial invasion again. We're just going to the Moon. If we can wipe out their space fleet bases then we've as good as won the war, because they'll never be able to attack us. We have the hypothetical high ground in our backyard. We just have to secure it."

"It's too soon." George maintained. "We're still only about sixty percent complete with the overhaul of our forces from the GuAize models to the Elementals, and Efreet and Grendels are not nearly plentiful enough for a sustained ground assault, on the Earth or on the Moon." He took a sip of coffee and made a sour face... he hated the stuff but he was working almost around the clock and he needed the pick me up. "If we made an attack now and it was repulsed or even worse, lost, we'd be done for. As it is, we're committing a unhealthy portion of the home guard units... we'll be terribly vulnerable during this entire campaign. A single small fleet that slips past the outer pickets and I shudder to think what might happen."

"Too soon or not, it's most likely going to happen." Jeremiah said flatly. "Their entire upper echelon of leadership, from political to economic to military has just dropped off the map. No one knows where anyone else is. There are nations that currently DON'T HAVE GOVERNMENTS because they can't find any of their elected officials above the senatorial level. There are entire fleets and armies with no command staff over the rank of brigadier general or rear admiral. They don't have any senior command to make decisions on strategy for them. They will never be weaker than they are now." he pointed to one of the wall viewscreens. "Especially with whatever the heck happened in Panama this morning. The mass driver is wrecked, AGAIN! And NOBODY knows how or why. All we know is that it launched one HELL of a big package into space this morning and then about thirty minutes later half the base was destroyed by someone and a smaller load was launched, then the mass driver went up in smoke. Currently, they still have Victoria, but that's it."

"Something is terribly wrong with this whole situation. Something is very badly awry down on Earth. Just this week we've had an attempted political and interfamilial assassination attempt within Blue Cosmos broadcast live on TV, all of our counterparts on Earth have disappeared and some unknown person or more likely group has taken out a major Alliance military installation, for purposes unknown. We need to understand the situation MUCH better before we go making any hasty moves." George retorted. "But nobody listens to me. I'm just a weapons developer with a lot of money and a vested interest in our side being properly prepared to win the war."

"Don't get bitter. There's nothing either of us can do to influence the decisions of high command. Now, on to other business. What's the progress on the Pulsar?" Jeremiah changed the subject without warning. George sighed... his brother was becoming more and more abrupt these days. He'd tried to find out if something was bothering his younger brother, but all his inquiries were met with rebuffs, initially polite but growing ever more surly as his concerns deepened. Sometimes it felt like he hardly knew his own brother anymore. And all he ever wanted to know about these days was the Pulsar. It was like he was becoming addicted to the machine, which was ridiculous of course, but... suddenly George blinked, his train of thought completely derailed. Jeremiah blinked a few times as well, similarly tongue tied for a moment or two. "What was I saying again? Oh yeah, the Pulsar..."

Noah Borander wore a satisfied smirk on his face as the door shut behind him on the conversation. It was becoming oh so easy to influence his family members now that he was actually actively practicing his powers. Ever since he'd heard that alluring voice on Purgatory Day he'd been almost obsessed with improving that aspect of his abilities, in preparation for the day, sometime in the future, when he would encounter her in person and make her his own, one way or another. He commonly sat in on the meetings between his father and his uncle these days, though he learned little of true interest that he did not already know in more detail than anyone else in the PLANTS. All it took was a bit of concentration and both men rapidly forgot he was even in the room, even though he was sitting right next to them. A little more effort and he blanked out their minds any time they got too close to what he deemed a sensitive topic, such as his own odd behavior, Jeremiah's odd behavior or anything too detailed about the NIC system. He snagged his computer from where it sat in a cubbyhole outside the office and headed for one of his own labs, one of many he'd appropriated for his own use under his father's nose. This particular lab was devoted mainly to the construction of nanotechnologies customized for warfare purposes.

His current main experiment was held suspended in midair by an electromagnetic field, one of a very few all purpose methods of containment that could actually safely contain the nanocolony. It was currently deactivated, but there was no sense taking risks. When activated, it would remain activated indefinitely and there was no off button. And if the activated substance were to escape the containment field... well, hopefully that wouldn't happen, because so far the only surefire method of destroying the colony he'd discovered was the application of anti-matter particles. And anti-matter was never a precise weapon. The nanocolony, a blue, powder like substance to the naked eye, was actually an outgrowth of some of the research he was helping his mother with, nanocolonies that would correct genetic defects in a living adult, not least of which were short telemeres. That substance was called Eden, which was actually E.D.E.N. (Energized Distributed Eugenic/Elemental Nanite). Green Eden, because of its color. He called the weaponized stuff Blue Eden. It was an ironic name in more than one way. There was also another strain of the colony, Red Eden, which he was developing as a manufacturing tool. His gaze was momentarily drawn to an object in the far corner of the room. A black sphere hovered inside its own containment fields. It was currently about the size of a softball. It was a macromolecule, a meta-nanomachine of unknown composition and structure. He'd created the damn thing, but he had no way of getting rid of it, like his father had ordered. It was one of the very few mysteries he still was making no progress in solving. In his grimmer moments, he called it the Black Eden.

Other experiments included heat absorbing colonies that drifted like mist through the air, pre-programmed repair colonies that would rebuild a damaged structure using elements manufactured from the environment around it and information warfare colonies that sought out electronics and corroded them into uselessness with minutes. He checked the progress of the computer programs he'd designed to monitor and conduct his experiments and then moved on to another lab, this one dealing with more conventional armaments, though they were anything but conventional. Some examples included a sonic amplification system and an anti-matter pulse weapon still in the theory stage, as well as inroads into quantum crystalline weaponry and armor. Other labs contained work in holographic projection, data warfare, new versions of the NIC (Neural Interface Control) and GRS (Gravity Reducing System) and most importantly a method for long range nearly impossible to interrupt telepresence control of a mobile suit. No one but him and a very few scientists who had no idea they worked for him were allowed in these labs, which contained the future of BoranderCorp, even if no one but Noah currently knew this fact. His last stop, as always, was to a lab no one but him could enter. It didn't even register as occupied on the building registry, indeed, wasn't even a lab but was listed as anonymous storage space. But it was a lab... a very advanced one too, constructed in secret by people who had no remaining memories of doing the work.

This lab, his true sanctuary for the moment, contained the only full schematics for his projects in the other labs, and the greater schematics that they fit into. The other labs designed the components... it was here that he put them together to make the ultimate expression of the modern war... Mobile Suits. Gundams, to be precise. His father thought the Pulsar was the end of the road as far as MS's went. He was wrong. The Pulsar was only the beginning. Already he had complete schematics for five new Gundams, and already the pilots for them too. The Haunted, for the burned commander. The Tormented, for the tragic girl. The Revenant, for the corpse. The Traitor, for the man of that ilk. And the Vengeance, though its pilot had no need of revenge... or at least no memory of any need. Other, less complete designs, included the Zealot, the Martyr, and his own baby, the Brotherhood. And then of course the was his crowning glory, the chariot of the heavens that would eventually be known by some name suitable for something of its magnificence. But all of these were years and years from actually being put into production. Right now they were only the fantasies of a young genius. Speaking of which, he turned his attention to his workbench, where he was busy putting together fantasies of another sort.

The girl with the voice... Lacus Clyne... was known to collect robotic pets. She had a fondness for them that was quite becoming in Noah's eyes, he also had a love for machines. Her house in the Aprilus cities was filled with the things, gifted to her by her old paramour, the enviable Athrun Zala. Personally, Noah didn't have too much respect for the robotic constructing skills of the elder Coordinator. The robots, called Haro's, were little more than hollow metal softballs with a limited use gravity compensator, a basic voice/ear box with limited vocabularly and recognition patterns, a few standard LED's, a gyroscopic balance mechanism, small interior storage and a monochromatic paint scheme. The original, the one colored pink, was also supposed to have a electronic lock opening device, which was more a gewgaw than a real component. He could put together a more advanced and functional robot companion in his sleep. Of slightly more artistic interest was a previously made device, named Birdie, constructed by a younger Athrun for his then schoolmate Kira Yamato. Birdie had a full gravity compensation device which let it fly for long periods of time, even in space, but it had almost nothing in the way of communications or data storage circuits. It could say it's name and it mimicked the habits of a real bird with passing ability, but no more than that.

Initially he'd just started tinkering with making his own Haro just for the fun of it. But after listening to a recording of that incredible voice a couple more times, even without the brain stirring impact of her Newtype power and he was hooked. From then on, he was constructing the Haro for a specific mission. It was to enter the Clyne estate and insinuate itself into her belongings, if and when she ever returned for them. It would replace the original Haro when it was expeditious and take on the roll of that familiar device. But it would be far more than just a empty Haro... it would be his spy and her protector, courtesy of her most powerful secret admirer. The tricky part was putting in all the extras without changing the overall physical characteristics of the device... his Pink Haro couldn't be any bigger or heavier than the original, nor could it look different to a cursory inspection of its interior. Naturally, a detailed inspection by any Coordinator with half a brain would of course reveal that it was not the same Haro, but the likelyhood of such an inspection was extremely low, lower with the program protocols he was building into it.

His Haro was almost done, awaiting only the final programming chips. The only problem was creating a suitable motivation circuit to use as the "brain" of the robot. Artificial Intelligence, the true form, in which the machine in question would learn, think, adapt and grow in intelligence on its own was still beyond the remit of science. Noah was working hard on the problem himself, when the mood struck him, but he had to admit, it was a true conundrum. Extremely powerful quantum computers with terabytes of programming functions could mimic the human brain quite well... but they still didn't have the true ability to innovate or more importantly create something new and better out of themselves. They could refine and streamline their processes, but eventually they would be confronted by some situation their programmers hadn't accounted for and they would be at a loss. Given the long term and subtle nature of the infiltration/protection mission he was designing this Haro for, he couldn't risk anything less capable at improvisation than a human. However, perhaps one of Noah's greatest talents wasn't just his methodical, logical intellect, the part of him that was good at the sciences and maths, but his ability to intuit a solution to a problem that was entirely new and as yet untried. Screw creating Artificial Intelligence... why not just use a copy of a biological intelligence?

His watch beeped at him to remind him that it was time to go already. He picked up the motivation circuit chip carefully and slid it into a protective case in the cover of his laptop. The chip was only about one hundred and thirty percent the weight of the processing chip in the original Haro, but this chip cost nearly as much to produce as did an Elemental class Mobile Suit. Noah had no doubt that both his uncle and his father would be most wroth with him if their minds ever recovered the ability to let them glance at the full daily costs report. Jeremiah's public grandstanding also helped generate a lot of additional funds from charities, donations and gifts, much of were funneled into Noah's own projects without even touching BoranderCorp coffers. As things were, he was spending nearly thirty million dollars a day on his own, secret research projects. A drop in the bucket compared to what the greater company spent, but not bad for a ten year old. He chided himself for letting his thoughts go off on a tangent as he packed up his computer and set the lab equipment back into standby/processing mode. The gist of his original thought was that for only a little more weight, this chip he had contained within it the memory storage capabilities to store a human intelligence. Well, so he hoped. He'd be finding out in less than an hours time. He pressed one of several buttons on his watch, which served as a discreet communications device amongst many other features, to have his car prepped for him.

A series of express elevators and moving walkways brought him to the parking garage senior service levels in a matter of minutes. In truth he didn't really have to take his own car, given that he was only going a little farther than the outskirts of the BordanderCorp Center for Medical Research, which was only about a mile away, still well within the massive perimeter of the BoranderCorp Industrial Center and thus served by regular automated shuttle service, but what was the point of being the eldest son of the owning family if you didn't flaunt some style every ocne and a while, even if you publicy eschewed ostentation? For god's sake, he was still a ten year old boy, if far, far removed from most Coordinators his age. There was no one else in the parking garage, due to it still being in the middle of yet another extremely busy work day. His car was already waiting for him, the omnichromatic paint having decided to be dark green today... one of more than twelve colors it could assume either at his whim or via a randomization process it underwent every twelve hours. It was a thoroughly useless invention in the great scheme of things, but he could never decide on any one color, so he'd decided to take them all. He climbed into the vehicle and stretched out in the spacious interior compartment... being devoid of steering column and most other archaic but still common control devices, including a windshield, pedals and transmission, his car had a great deal of room in it, though only two seats.

Without even the slightest indication of movement, the car started up and glided away along a course he'd programmed into it during his walk down from the labs... he didn't want to go directly there as he still had some time to kill before the appointed meeting time. He could also control the car via voice commands, but he disabled that function for the moment while he set up his laptop again and hooked into into the net transceiver in the car. In seconds he had full video comms with his entire organization... as usual he smiled a bit at that, because only a very few in his organization even knew that it was an organization. A few keystrokes more and his voice modification program was up and running, making him sound like he was at least twenty five to thirty to anyone he commed with. The video links were one way to ensure his privacy... some people were squeamish about taking orders from a ten year old for some reason. His first call went out before he'd even left the parking garage. "So, Mr. Dylan, what have you found out?" Noah enquired of one of his longest standing agents, Jean Dylan.

"Well, boss, it wasn't exactly easy, but I called in some old favors..." Jean Dylan, a nondescript Natural, perhaps one of the more redundant phrases in nature to Noah's thinking, replied, hurriedly hiding his startled expression at being called out of the blue. Noah wasn't supposed to be calling for another few hours yet, but he felt there was some value in keeping his associates guessing just a little. Complacency bred failure, after all. Noah idly wondered just what he'd interrupted Dylan doing, but then decided it didn't matter. Noah smiled slightly... "old favors" was Dylan slang for blackmail and bribery, but the hows of his methods did not concern Noah, only the fruits of the labors. "The people in question are D... E... A... D, dead. Not missing." Again, as always, Dylan spoke around the real issue over the vid, never quite coming out and saying anything that could be incriminating, as if he was worried about being eavesdropped on. Patently ridiculous... Noah owned the electronic survelliance systems in the PLANTS, no matter what ZAFT or the council believed. They could no more tap or trace his calls than they could those of the Earth Alliance Command Land Lines.

"All of them? That's a very large number of extremely well protected men and women to turn up dead all at once. Admittedly, Panama is a ruin right at the moment, but I wasn't aware of any sort of summit taking place there, or anything of real note besides the incarceration of Cervantes Zunnichi, pending trial." Noah mused.

"That's another thing..." Dylan gulped and looked a mite sick. "Zunnichi is one of the dead. I wasn't able to get the full story mind, boss, but from what I hear it was really messy. Horror flick messy. Blood and organs everywhere, piles of mutilated bodies and severed limbs... Zunnichi had his heart torn out of his chest by something or someone using what looked to be their bare hands. Most likely the same bare hands that killed the rest of the... people in question."

"Interesting." Noah said, filing away the facts for the future. He knew full well who'd killed Cervantes Zunnichi and the Blue Cosmos members of the EA governments, now. He was perhaps the only Coordinator in the PLANTS who'd recognized Zacharis Frost when he'd been displayed over the world wide news, being escorted from Sai Argyle's house in Hawaii. He'd debated mentioning something through official channels about the BCPU, but had decided against it. Let the Naturals reap the crops of their own sowing, with that maniac. And now it looks like they had... Zunnichi was dead, which was a relief and more than ninety percent of the EA nations were now without leadership, which was thought provoking. Who would step into the power vacuum and become the new leader? Noah had calculated a statistical likelyhood that agreed with his own personal opinion and he would have bet a large sum of money that he was right. The other thought was that the EA would never be weaker than they were now... so what would ZAFT do? Well, obviously they'd attack, but Noah found himself unable to recalculate the odds to remain in their favor... there were too many unknowns still in operation. "What about what happened to Panama?"

"Boss... nobody was talking about that. I mean nobody. Not for anything." Dylan said.

"Has the man who acquired and sold the Cyclops System plans for the JOSH-A base finally run into an intelligence screen he cannot penetrate? Maybe I'll have to go spend my intelligence budget elsewhere." Noah replied calmly. He waited for a few seconds, knowing full well the kinds of games this man played, out of habit if for no other understandable reason in Noah's eyes.

"Don't be hasty now, boss." Dylan sounded massively irritated. Which was good. "Now, nobody and nobody was talking. But I did manage to sneak a peek at a couple of the AAR (after-action reports) of the clean up crews that first responded to the disaster. I even managed to do a little cross referencing with the base logistics files. I don't know what to make of things, but you're a hell of a lot smarter than me, maybe you will. A whole shit-ton of munitions and other Mobile Suit type supplies were being moved into one hangar in particular for weeks before Panama was destroyed. Again. This was the biggest hanger on base and nobody and nobody else got into that hanger without a pass from base command and a serious escort. The clean up crews didn't find any war material in the remains of that hanger, not even wreckage or residue. They did find a bunch of scuff marks and scars on the floor, the kind that temporary scaffolding and weigh support harnesses tend to make. Enough of 'em for an entire platoon of Mobile Suits, all lined up nice and neat and far too close together for a bunch of Mobile Suits to have been using them. Any of that make sense to you?"

"Perhaps. I'll be in touch, Mr. Dylan." Noah cut the comm. No doubt the man would fume and sputter at being cut off, but he'd get over it. For all the favors he owed Noah, he'd have no other choice. Noah squared his shoulders and adjusted his mental posture... this next call was closer to a conversation of equals than the employer-employee exchange he'd just had with Dylan. He turned off the voice disguiser and cleared the computer for two way video. "Mr. Durandal, I hope I'm not calling at a bad time?" he asked the man in the blue coat of a senior level member of the PLANT civilian administration, who looked up from eating some form of prepackaged lunch without a slight hint of startlement in his leonine golden eyes, framed as always by his midnight black hair. Gilbert Durandal, Vice-Minister of the Interior and one of the most up and coming Coordinators in PLANT politics, touched a control on his desk, his hand just out of sight of Noah's viewpoint.

"Mr. Borander." Durandal bowed his head slightly in greeting. Very few knew of the collusion between the two Coordinators, not even members of either's immediate family and friends. Gilbert Durandal was politician with a vision and the acumen and talent to get there. Noah wasn't quite sure what this vision of Durandels was, but he could live with it, since Durandal had no idea what Noah's real goals were either. They both satisfied themselves with recognizing the desire for power, be it political or economic. Noah was Durandal's primary campaign funder and a source of very valuable intelligence on Durandal's political and military competition for the next spot on the PLANT supreme council, due to open up in a few months time. Durandal was Noah's conduit into influencing the halls of those people who made the decisions that affected the course of the PLANT's as a whole. It was a very mutually benefitial relationship, but to say that either trusted or even especially liked the other would be an exaggeration, as was too often the case in such partnerships. Still, they maintained a veneer of politness with each other even in the most private of circumstances, for the sake of professionalism if nothing else. "No, I was just having a brief talk with Rey, I'll be with you in just a moment."

"Don't let me interrupt." Noah's fingers flew across his keyboard, moving back and forth across the keys, both hands flashing as he utilized the dual layer processing of his custom designed keyboard that let him type in two different programs at once with one keyboard... very handy for many computer programming related tasks and an absolute bitch to learn how to do... no on else he knew was even capable of fully comprehending how to do it. Before Durandal could even protest politely that it was no interruption, Noah had hacked into the man's desk computer... a new one, since the man had the amusing tendency to replace them after each conversation with Noah, as if it really made that much of a difference... and diverted his other call onto his own computer, initiating a three way conference. "Rey, it's good to see you." And it was, too. After all, Rey was the only other clone still living that he could relate to. Re Le Burrel, one of two clones of the fantastically wealthy Natural businessman Albert La Flaga, who owned most of the sub-orbital air transportation companies on Earth. Mr. La Flaga was long dead, burned to death with his wife and much of their household when their mansion mysteriously caught fire several years before Noah had been born. But his legacy lived on... his first clone, Rau Le Creuset was gone, dead and destroyed by Kira Yamata at the second battle of Jachin Due, but there had been a second, younger clone as well. This was Rey. Noah liked to regard the other two clones as prototypes for himself, perfecting the process enough for it to be used during his own incubation. Rey was four years older than him, and only had about ten more years left in him unless someone came up with a way to cure the artificial genetic disorder of shortened telemeres.

"Noah..." Rey trailed off. A taciturn and focused youth, Rey wasn't much of a talker, though he could be suprisingly insightful when he did choose to speak. He spent most of his time on flight simulators or tactical training scenarios, much like those taught at ZAFT Basic and Elite training academys, and spent the rest of the time training his body or mind into becoming an exemplarly soldier. His skills were impressive, Noah had to admit, easily the match of every one of his own selected cadre of secret pilots, and that was with their advantage of NIC controls. Well, maybe not the equal of the pilot of the Vengeance, which was an irony. More so because Noah had considered Rey as one of the possible pilots for the Vengeance, but the elder clone's loyalties were far too secure with Durandal for Noah to be comfortable employing him on such an intimate basis. Rey and Durandal were like father and son, if a very distant father and son. No, Rey was a good pawn, but he'd never move into Noah's inner circles. "You look well. Off doing something important and mind boggling, I'd imagine?"

"One of these days, I will manage to find some form of net security that will prevent you from pulling stunts like this." Durandal commented, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "It's beginning to become tricky finding reasons to replace my computers."

"Maybe I'll write you a program that might be able to make a good go of it, but getting you to trust it might be difficult, eh?" Noah replied dryly. _If you want it safe, don't put it on the net at all. Better yet, put it down on Earth, off the net. That's closer to safe. But given time, I can get anywhere, as far as computers can go._ "I'm just doing what I do every day, Rey. Trying to take over the world." Noah continued, paraphrasing a quote from an age old cartoon show featuring the unlikely adventures of two lab mice. He quite identified with one of them, the Brain, being forced to make do with legions of idiotic "Pinky" henchmen, much like Noah was forced to work with Naturals and lesser Coordinators. He smiled to show he didn't mean it. And he didn't... rule the world? Not a chance... no fun at all. He just wanted to make it a better place for everyone, with a higher standard of living and prosperity for all. "Jokes aside, I was calling for a specific reason. Have you heard anything about the Supreme Council decision?"

"That depends... do you have anything to offer me, Mr. Borander?" Durandal replied, cagey as ever. There was no free lunch in their dealings... they traded information much like any other brokers would.

"The EA heads are currently listed as missing in action, You can safely upgrade that to killed in action. Cervantes Zunnichi is dead as well. Blue Cosmos has constructed another superweapon of some sort and they were storing it at Panama. Whatever force it was that killed the government heads and Cervantes stole this superweapon and used it to destroy Panama, after which it was launched into orbit, on the far side of Earth from us, in the planet's sensor shadow. It'll be approximately five days before it becomes visible to us again." Noah noted a sour look flicker across Durandals features. Five days was an important time then. Likely when the next war action would commence. "The area in which it could appear is large, but thankfully the closest reappearance point is still a half day from our outer defence lines. We should have plenty of time to determine what exactly this new threat is and who's side it is on, if any."

Durandal didn't ask Noah if he was sure. The demonic little child was always sure, and always right too, to date. Some might consider it odd, bandying state secrets and matters of national defense about with a ten year old, but Durandal refused to let himself consider Noah on the basis of physical age. The man in a boy's body on the other end of the line was a frightening intelligence with monstrous capabilities in almost all academic areas. His head for politics was still a little weak, but there were many people Durandal encountered on a daily basis during his work that had less acumen than Noah, so his only advantage was slim. Still, it was enough to provide him a measure of safety in dealing with the little bastard, and he was glad for his poker face. As yet they had never met in person, and Durandal was dreading that day, quietly, hopefully far off into the future. It was enough now that they agreed to work together and neither pry too deeply into the affairs of the other. "In five days time, ZAFT will launch a full scale invasion of the Moon. The scope of the campaign will include more than 50 percent of our reserve home guard units as well as all our active duty space forces. We'll be deploying that special mobile suit of your uncle's as well. The goal is to capture or destroy the Alliance fleet bases on the moon, permanently removing their ability to stage large numbers of naval vessels in orbit and near space."

"Ambitious." Noah commented.

"They're some of the best soldiers the Naturals have, but they won't be able to stand up to us. They don't have the technology. Thanks, by the way." Rey added.

"Not my work. But you are welcome." Noah replied. _I guess I can throw him a little bit of a bone. Be nice to see him again anyway. A good opportunity to pick his brain too, though I imagine he doesn't know much more about Durandal's plans now than he did before... he doesn't really care what Durandal does, he'll play along regardless. Almost makes me wish I had a fawning henchperson too. Well, one I didn't have to make for myself anyway._ "Say, when you have some free time, let me know. You didn't hear this, but we're going to be doing some more nextgen testing soon, and I'd really like it if I had someone who's capabilities I trusted to put the designs through their paces."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Noah. Gilbert, I should be going. Thank you for the phone call." Rey signed off.

"I thought the Pulsar was the only nextgen mobile suit currently in operation or production." Durandal said after a few moments, not quite a question.

"It is the only one currently." Noah confirmed. They stared at each for a few more moments and then both signed off, smiling enigmatically at each other. Noah looked at his watch and waited one more minute precisely, then opened the door on his car just as it coasted to a stop inside a warhouse adjacent to the Medical Research Center. There was no one to greet him, which was as it should be. A gate hummed back down behind him, sealing the car into the warehouse, returning it to cave like darkness. Walking along a pre-memorized path, Noah ascended two flights of stairs and then took a left into another dark room. He closed his eyes and looked with other senses, easily picking out the minds of the five soldiers crowding the small antechamber, heavily armed and equipped with various methods for seeing in total darkness. To Noah's minds-eye, the intelligences of the other Coordinators looked like strings of numbers hanging in the air like hyperlinks, just waiting to be clicked on and accessed. There was a few brief fractions of a second where his mind struggled through the so called "Stump barrier" that shielded non-evolved minds from the elucidations of the blessed, but then he was inside, as privy to their thoughts and feelings as they themselves were. These men were regular guards of his, often stationed to secure various locations at his behest and so their minds already had well trod pathways for his intellect to follow as they noticed him and came to attention. "Password is: Frankenstein."

"Countersign is: Wolfman." One guard replied, indicating that everything was in readiness without any complications. "Vampire" would have indicated a problem with the subject and "Psycho" would have been a problem with the equipment. Noah traced his mind throughout their memories to make sure there was no deciet, causing them all to suffer simultaneous shivers that had them looking around uneasily, unsure of the sudden chill that prickled their skin. There was nothing, everything was prepared as it should be. Without any further words he stepped by the guards and entered a twelve digit passcode entirely different from the six digit code he'd told them would allow access into a door console. Their code let them in and out once, his was the real code. After being entered, his code randomized the exit code according to a sufficiently complex calculus algorithim to keep the likelihood of anyone but him opening the door again to be remote in the extreme. Unless the intruders had thought to bring a few graphing calculators and about four hours of extra time with them. The next room was brightly lit, at least in comparison to the pitch darkness outside. In reality it dimmer than most normal rooms would be, about half the illumination of a school classroom, with no exterior windows. The room was small, only about thirty feet square, and it was mostly filled up with processing equipment of some form or other, supporting devices for the main construction.

Said construction dominated the middle of the room straight out of the scenes of a science fiction movie. To whit, a hardy plastic cylinder, about six feet in diameter and extending from floor to ceiling, with metallic reinforcements and abutments where it met the floor and the ceiling. Around the bottom of the tube were banks of complicated looking machines with large numbers of input and output ports, as well as a special slot on top exactly the same size as his laptop. He placed his laptop in the slot and booted it back up again as the door sealed shut behind him, ensuring that there would be only his eyes to witness this experiment, through success or failure. He removed the Haro circuit from its protective casing and inserted it into a block of compters just to the right of the laptop station. He then set about the task of powering up the room and making all the required connections between the processing equipment and the subject tube. He found it hard to keep his eyes on his work, they kept on straying back to the tube, filled with pale bluish suspension gel. Floating in the gel was a girl, about fourteen or fifteen. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep, though actually she was in a coma, victim of a rather nasty boating accident, proof positive that Coordinators were no more infallible than any other mortal creature. The distinctive neural wiring of a NIC interface snaked down from the top of the tube and interface with her skull and skin, the wires mixing with the IV lines that fed her nutrients and medicines to keep her alive, while other tubes removed waste and kept her clean. She'd been shaved bald before immersion in the tank and was as naked as a babe.

It was this last part that was causing Noah problems. He'd always had a great deal of appreciation for the human body, especially females. He recognized that this would shortly be causing him a great deal of problems, when he hit puberty in the next few years. So far he was able to quash dispassionately the odd signals his hormones sent to him, since he wasn't interested in girls and never had been. Yet. The only girl he was interested was Lacus Clyne, and it wasn't sexually. Yet. It was one of the curses of being superintelligent... there was no way he could lie to himself and convince himself that he wouldn't be controlled in some way by his hormones eventually. But at the same time, right now he wasn't even slightly attracted to this girl, yet he found himself gawking at her, for no discernable reason. It was annoying. He snorted and mentally brushed himself off... he could not afford distractions, now of all times. He connected the last few wires and then returned to his laptop. "Good afternoon, Melanie." he said to the room. There was no response other than the hum of machinery and electronics. Much as expected, but it never hurt to be sure. He raced through the pre-initialization routines and actived the NIC interface that would draw what remained of her personality and for lack of a better term... soul... into the motivation circuit. Much of what he was going to try to do was theoretical at best, but his calculations and hypotheses were sound, so things should work. Should.

He sat down at his laptop station and closed his eyes, reaching out with his Newtype senses again. The numbers representing Melanie were dim and small, but in such proximity he had no trouble locking on to her and bringing the full force of his considerable attention to her. She was a terminal patient, one of a very few select "volunteers" for the BoranderCorp Medical Charity for the Terminally Disabled, a very selective dummy organization that Noah had recently created, funded out of pocket, to gather research subjects like her for his experiments into the recording of intelligence. His uncle was another such subject, though of course he didn't know that the Pulsar was a data gathering machine as well as a war machine. But Melanie, along with four or five others he was still cultivating, was special. Victims of incurable genetic defects or terrible accidents, they were comatose to the last, between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, female and beyond the reach of modern medicine to do anything more but keep them alive but not recovering. Melanie had gone boating with friends and fallen overboard while they were waterskiing. The boat ran into her and cracked her skull, then ran her over and broke her spine and knocked her unconscious. She spent more than seven minutes underwater before one of her friends found her and brought her back to the surface, where CPR and professional medical help managed to resuscitate her after ten minutes of frantic work. However, she had never regained consciousness since then and testing indicated severe brain damage both from the intial impact as well as from oxygen starvation, not to mention lower body paralysis from the broken spine.

Melanie's parents had spoken with a voice disguised Noah to discuss the fate of their daughter. He proposed to them a "new treatment" that was untried but had powerful ramifications. Desperate for any ray of hope to bring their beloved daughter back and frustrated at the lack of help from other doctors, Melanie's parents had quickly enrolled her into the program. He'd warned them that there was a chance of death from the new treatment, but that there were better than even odds of an improvement in her condition, even a full recovery. Her parent's had dithered for a few moments, but with a little creative emotive-surgery... no mean feat across a telephone line, even for him... playing on their fears they agreed wholeheartedly. He'd feared he might feel guilty, lying to two people like that, but he found it didn't bother him in the slightest. Perhaps that made him a bad person, but he preferred to think about it as scientific dispassion... it was regrettable, what would happen to Melanie, but her sacrifice would serve a much greater good. He needed test subjects like her and he could not afford to waste time. He slipped into her mind with a sensation like sticking his hands into a vat of lukewarm oatmeal... filmy and mushy, her mind had little of the vibrancy and structure of an uninjured person. Still, there was quite a bit of person under the pall of the injury... plenty of material for him to work with. He'd already done a great deal of pre-work with her, along with his other "volunteers"... bonding with them as only he could, by visiting with them in their own subconsciousness using his powers to draw them into a what some Newtypes called a "Trance".

While Trancing with them he would create whole worlds of life and love for them, giving them everything they had lost back again, even if only for short times as an illusion. Slowly and surely he earned their trust and then their friendship and then their love. He was their savior, the one who would deliver them from their personal hells... several of them being aware while unconscious, the others being stuck in near awake dream states, since full on REM sleepers were beyond the reach of the NIC interface. Even while he Tranced with them, other parts of his attention would massage their emotions, strengthing their feelings of love and gratitude and trust while muting their inhibitions, worry and fear. By the time he'd judged Melanie ready for the final encoding procedure, he felt confident that if she was awake and physically fit, he could ask her to do anything for him and she would, without hesitation. Why? Because she loved him more than she loved anything else. He was everything to her, more than her parents, more than her boyfriend who'd saved her life, more than anything. He was her beloved god. And he had to admit, even though he was the one who'd fostered the feeling and nutured it into a full on obsession, it felt good to be loved like that. Certainly better than the lukewarm relationship he had with what remained of his parents. He caressed her subconscious mind one more time, as a master pets a favorite animal and felt her emotions surge wildly in happy greeting.

It was time to begin. He set up the assessment programs and watched their outputs. Several minutes went by as the programs mapped her neural activity and calculated transfer ratios and available memory storage. When the programs finished, they all flashed green lights of agreement... the chip had more than enough room, assuming he proceeded with the planned editing. After all, he didn't need everything from her... just enough to motivate a Haro unit to feel both protective and inquisitive. And loyal... always loyal. He'd never done what he was about to do before, but he wasn't much afraid... he'd destroyed minds before by accident, he should be fine tinkering with one on purpose. He grimaced as he braced his mind, sunk his concentration deeply into the folds of her psyche that he had designated as of primary interest and then he stimulated them. Overstimulated them. Flooded them with sensation and information. Forced them to react and react again. And again, and again, more powerfully each time, and for longer times, while the NIC interface recorded them and the signals bounced around in her brain and translated them into elctronic signals, which the computers translated into code and then compiled into a basic "motivation block" which would be inputted into the circuit at the end. He grabbed Love... and Admiration. Curiosity. Jealousy. Friendship... Self Preservation... Deceit and Happiness. His eyes were shut the entire time, and sweat beaded his face and neck from the mental exertion. He could hear her twitching and spasming in her tube as he ripped wholesale emotions directly out of her subconscious and transplanted them into the artificial neuro-maps of the computers. No doubt she probably would have been screaming too, if a breathing tube wasn't strapped to her face and extending down her throat. He forced himself to ignore the damage he was causing to her, the pain and trauma, mental and even physical. It was for a greater cause. His cause.

Finally, almost two hours later, he was done with the first stage of the experiment. The basic motivation blocks were recorded and in place. Now he needed the motivating force itself, the spark of creativity and life that would let a mind use its emotions to innovate and adapt in order to stimulate those same emotions. This was the hard part... grabbing and moving a portion of her psyche itself, not just an emotion. It was hard to explain to a non-Newtype... Stumps just didn't have the instinctive understanding of the mind needed to comprehend the differences between emotions and thoughts, the mind, the soul and the psyche. Suffice it to say, his first extractions had been taking her muscles and nerves and organs... now he was taking her mind itself. It wasn't easy... the psyche was intangible to begin with, parts of him had to force it to exist in a coherent form while other parts grabbed it and stimulated it. Stimulating the psyche is not lightly done... its a stimulation of every possible emotion all at once, while at the same time your mind is thinking faster than it ever has before about things you don't even understand, also while you look back through every memory you have, even the ones you don't remember. It was an overload, in the simplest terms. He ruthlessly burned out any emotion or thought or memory that tried to enter his computers that didn't have to do with motivating the Haro and serving his purposes. Stage two ended four hours after it started, in a final, transcendental burst of mental activity, like a star exploding.

Noah jerked his mind back out of Melanie's psyche like taking his hand off a red hot burner. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach, but that was normal for him whenever he pushed the limits of his Newtype powers. He eased his eyes open and winced at the brightness of the relatively dim room. He blinked a few times to adjust his eyes and then glanced down at his status boards before looking anywhere else. They all glowed a steady green. Everything had made it... he'd actually done it, as far as his instruments could determine anyway. He had successfully copied an abbreviated version of a real, living human intelligence out of a biological body into a technological one. And the only cost had been... Noah raised his eyes to look at the subject tube and froze. The suspension gel was now purplish in color throughout much of the tank... a natural result of the blue pigment in the gel mixing with blood, mixing action supplied by the apparently frantic full body thrashing of Melanie, which had ceased but was evident from the way her limbs were sprawled out of the positions they had been in before he started. He swallowed a river of bile as he looked away hurriedly. He was glad the room was soundproofed, and could suddenly account for why his ears were ringing a little. Apparently the process of extraction was hard on the patient. He'd suspected it might be, but this was worse than expected.

Melanie had regained bodily control of her upper body at some point during the second stage, as evidenced by the panicky claw marks on the interior of the tube, where she'd rubbed her fingertips to the bone and then marked the plastic with the exposed bone in her frantic but futile struggle to escape. Then her hands had turned on herself, either by accident or even worse, by design. She'd torn her own face and upper body to shreds with her own fingertips. Gouged out her eyes, broke out her teeth, pulled apart her lips, ripped off her ears and carved huge fleshy valley's in her face flesh. Her nose was hanging on by a shred of gristle and he could see her skull through several parts of her face. She'd chewed off the breathing tube and had her face pressed up against the tube walls, mouth open in what must have been a wail of terror, pain and hatred. She was dead now, thankfully, choked on the breathing tube in her throat, from blood loss and from the fact that her mind had lost the ability to regulate even unconscious bodily functions. Complete flatline, across the board, according to the life support readouts. He jumped when a computer buzzed, indicating that the final stages of the imprinting, where the motivation blocks and motivating force were combined and downloaded into the chip, were complete and that it was ready for a final test. Noah swallowed and gathered his scattered thoughts back into a coherent form. So it was hard on the patient... next time he would be to secure them more fully... it would be a monstrous pain to get rid of a damaged corpse like this... much easier if they didn't claw themselves to shreds in the process.

Noah pressed a button on his laptop. "Good afternoon, Melanie." he said to the room. There was a brief pause.

"Good afternoon, Noah." a synthesized voice replied. There was another pause. "Omigod! I spoke! I spoke out loud! And you heard me!?"

"Yes. The treatment was a success." Noah said, smiling.

"But I can't see anything. Or feel anything!" Melanie was starting to get a bit frantic.

"Don't worry, you'll get your senses back in a while. These things take time, you know. It was hard enough bringing you back to consciousness."

"Oh yes, of course! Pardon me for being so rude, Noah, I can't believe what silly and selfish girl I was being!" Noah hadn't realized the synthesizer could sound mortified. "Please say you'll forgive me. Please, please! I couldn't live with upsetting you!" Noah could almost see a puppy dog tail wagging in contrition.

"Don't worry about it Melanie, I'm just glad to see you happy."

"Omigod, I'm alive again! I can't ever thank you enough! If there's anything I can do... anything at all..."

"Well... actually... I was kind of looking for a personal assistant to do a very special and very important job for me. Do you think you might be able to do that for me?"

"Anything. Anything for you, Noah. I'd do anything for you." Melanie sighed happily as he shut her off for the moment and took the chip in his hand.

"Well... that wasn't that hard. Though I hope Lacus Clyne appreciates all the effort that went into her new Haro..." Noah trailed off as he contemplated the future. The suddenly even more promising than usual future.


	82. Day of Days

Something stirred in Kira's dreams and he found himself slowly blinking the sleep from his eyes without really being fully aware that he had awakened. Something didn't feel quite right, but he wasn't able to place his finger quite on what... his arm slid arcoss the bed and encountered a only slightly warm indentation beside him where it should have been stopped by someone. Aha. Thus the reason for him waking up, though from the feel of it, Lacus had been gone for at least fifteen minutes or so. Not a bathroom break, nor a trip to get a drink of water, both being five minutes or less activities. Lacus didn't eat midnight snacks unless she was staying up all night and she'd been doing too much of that of late, which was why they'd both gone to bed early today, without even thinking about fooling around with any sort of physical activity... they were exhausted as it was. Fighting a war was bad enough, but he'd take the Archangel in space again in an instant over starting a national government up from scratch. Even if his sister was the national leader. Maybe even especially BECAUSE his sister was the national leader. And being the brother of the national leader meant, apparently, that you were somehow politically important and that people required his input for essential tasks that he had absolutely no knowledge of. Ask him about computers or computer security or even mobile suits and he'd be able to tell anyone who could stand to listen to him far more than most people would ever want to know... but national defense strategies? Troop allocations? Payment for the troops? New recruitment? He didn't have the slightest idea about what to say or do on matters like those... it was like people assumed that just because he piloted a Gundam he had a damned idea what he was doing, like a professional soldier might, which just wasn't the case.

His half asleep mind turned the coin over the other way. Not only was he Cagalli's older brother and apparently a senior member of the Orb National Defense Comittee with all the duties and cares contained therein, as of Purgatory Day anyway, but then he had a whole new set of problems and responsibilities jumping into his lap from Lacus's side of things. Purgatory Day also marked, amongst many other things, the day he and Lacus had "gone public" with their relationship, on world wide TV, nonetheless. The memory still made him smile and blush... something had gotten into him that day, usually he was far more content to stay out of the limelight, but he'd looked up, saw them both on TV and he'd just sorta snapped... in a good way. Lacus sure had been happy with him, though the good mood had of course been totally spoiled by the tragic events that took up the rest of the day. But despite the airing of the death and destruction on live TV as well, it had been far too much to hope for that the world would forget about him and Lacus... people loved juicy insider celebrity stories as much or more than they did morally outragous governmental scandals. Barely a day after Purgatory Day and he'd come back to their room in the Orb National Palace and found three reporters with camera crews posted outside with entirely too curious expressions on their faces. Luckily he'd spotted them from down the hall and managed to slip away before they noticed him. Or so he'd thought, but he'd been sneaking away, out the back door when several more teams came around a bend, arguing with each other about how Lacus wasn't where her so called schedule said she would be.

Kira hadn't had many "deer in the headlights" moments since his initial moments of combat in the Strike back up in Heliopolis, but he definitely had one then as four different tabloid reporters oriented on him as one and practically pounced on him like a rugby team. Four different recording devices were shoved at his head as the reporters and their photography crews surrounded him like a pack of wolves around a fawn. He still couldn't remember what they asked him... they seemed so eager to get a reply from him, any reply at all, that they never seemed to shut up to let him get a word in edgewise. Every time he tried to speak, to answer a question or deny an accusation... of which there were a lot, all patently ridiculous or totally indecent... or even to tell them to go away, one of them would shout both him and the original reporter down with a new question and so forth and so on. Looking back on it, he still got slightly steamed, though he was embarrassed with himself now as well for how angry he'd gotten. On an intellectual level he knew they were being provocative because that's what their jobs were, to confuse him and get him to say something unwise that they could blow way out of proportion and sell massive numbers of tabloid magazines with. On an emotional level he was still torn and bleeding from the events of Purgatory Day, and it was on the emotional level that he'd reacted. All of the interviewers had been Naturals, that day anyway, and they barely had time to shrink back when he tore their recorders from their hands one by one and stomped on them, telling them in no uncertain terms to back off and go away. Of course they didn't, and they had backup recorders. Then they started asking him why he was being so defensive, what was he hiding. Then they had started to speculate. Out loud. Fortunately, it was also at about that time that Alkire had showed up.

Kira and Alkire were still keeping each other at arms length over most issues, since their battlefield philosophies did not even come close to seeing eye to eye with each other and this leaked over into a lot of their personal issues as well. Still despite the distance and words and actions and even blows that had come between them at times, they both counted the other as a good man, a good friend and a close ally. Alkire hadn't even paused in his stride, coming around a corner and blitzing into the group of reporters with a unconvincing "oops". Alkire was not the most physically massive of men, but he was a extremely fit and strong soldier and he had little trouble in bowling over two of the reporters and pushing the other two and their assorted support back a few steps with his widely spread arms as he staggered forward, as if actually tripped and falling. To Kira it was a pathetically obvious act, but it was a thick enough excuse that the reporters couldn't say that Alkire had purposefully run them over. The reporters had tried to push past Alkire to resume their questioning of Kira, but Alkire wrapped his arms around the four of them like they were old drinking buddies or something and kept them firmly away from what was now Kira's side of the hallway. Kira had wasted no time in sprinting around the corner and out of the building, dodging several other teams of reporters idly wandering the halls, some on legitimate business, others looking for an unexpected scoop, often in areas where they shouldn't have been, because the Orb government security forces hadn't recovered enough to maintain the usual strict access controls to the building's interior spaces.

It hadn't gotten much better over the intervening time since then... now security guards and soldiers patrolled the insides and outer perimeters of the main governmental buildings and residences, keeping them safe, secure and most importantly private, but outside the perimeter of each building were hordes of reporters, gawkers and worst of all, in Kira's opinion, die hard fans. He'd known Lacus was popular... he'd owned a few of her albums himself, back before the war, he wasn't ashamed to admit, as had most of his friends who were Coordinators or pro-Coordinator. But quite how popular he'd never fully grasped until then. He wasn't even sure Lacus herself had known, until then. Now it was impossible to ignore... there were fans down there twenty four hours a day, every day of the week, camped out in the streets or parks or staying in large groups at the few functioning hotels in the area or even driving into the city each day, just to stand and jostle and shout and sing and make idiots of themselves on public TV every time either he or especially Lacus was foolish enough to let themselves be seen. Lacus was of course universally loved, showered with adulation, praise and acknowledgement, all positive. His situation was somewhat more complex... many of the fans didn't like Kira very much... mostly the male fans. Jealousy was an ugly, terrible thing, especially when combined with a mob mentality. Every car he'd ridden in had been vandalized with huge pink spray paint slogans and black permanent marker, and he'd been pelted with pink water ballons filled with pink lemonade on several occasions, and even peeled grapefruit on one occasion.

It was kind of odd, really... the vandalism was very low key, no swearing, no violence, just big frowny faces, faces with "X" eyes, little stickers homemade from a snapshot of his face with a pink circle around it and a line through it and things of that nature, while the written slogans were almost funny in their political correctness and politely phrased displeasure. As far as Kira could tell, most of the male fans seemed mostly concerned with him "soiling the purity" and "tainting the innocence" and "violating the virginity" of Lacus's image. Kira wasn't stupid... he knew what it was. Jealousy, like Alkire, Athrun and Waltfeld had warned him would happen. It's because he was with Lacus and they weren't, even though they had never had any realistic chance of even getting her to know their names, much less anything more than that. He'd found himself smiling a goofy secret smile at one point in time though... far as virginity went, the poor fans were several months too late to be protesting about that, though of course they didn't know that, and he'd do a lot to keep them from finding out too. As long as the male fans were able to decieve themselves into thinking that this was a recently started relationship with very few physical connotations, they could sleep at night. And so could he, without worrying about them upping the ante to more unpleasant protests, like stinkbombs and paintball guns. When Athrun had brought that up at one point in time, Kira had laughed along with Lacus at the ludicrous thought. He wasn't laughing now... not after being stoned with sticky and not all that soft grapefruit. He'd tried to hide the evidence of that little encounter, but Lacus had inevitable found out... he'd forgotten, again, that she could read his mind, quite literally.

Lacus had of course been about as outraged as she could be while still laughing in a sort of sad denial that her own fans could be so rabidly foolish. She'd resolved to make a public announcement, a laying down of the law, straight from the mouth of the goddess, as it were, to get the restless natives to lay off her boyfriend. Kira had been perfectly happy with that idea. Then Athrun had stepped in and blown the whole thing out of the water with his longer term and more experienced viewpoint. Basically, what Athrun had to say was that if Lacus were to step up and make a public request for the harassment of Kira to stop, it would indeed stop. Publicly, anyway. Privately, which was currently out of bounds for the harassers while they expressed their views outside, would then be the only conduit for their misplaced feelings of indignation. And in private things had a nasty way of turning much uglier than they would be if they stayed in the public eye. For instance, right now Kira had to contend with the shouts and the occasional hurled object... not so bad really. Not compared to massed hate mail, internet hacking, theft or vandalism of private property. There was also the fact that if Kira let Lacus make her announcement, it would seriously weaken his image as a strong man in the minds of the fans who weren't against him, which might make them willing to join the camp of the Kira-bashers. He'd chuckled again when Athrun brought that up, but Athrun had stared him down with little humor.

"It's no laughing matter, Kira. Remember what I said a while back, during the march? About how several times I overheard technicians talking about how easy it would be to slip up on some regular maintenance on my mobile suit which might then lead to me being injured or otherwise unable to remain Lacus's fiancee? They were joking of course. Mainly because to do anything at all like that would be a felony amounting to treason in time of war and thus punishable by death. But also because I was a ZAFT red elite, the best of a considerably good group of soldiers. Plainly put, on the personal level, outside my unit, people DID NOT want to mess with me. Now you know me, I'd never threaten anyone I didn't have to, much less hurt them, but by being a red Elite I gave the impression that I was far too tough to take down. So they made little jokes instead. Not saying they would have gone farther if they thought I was a kitten with no claws, but... well, they could have been a lot more unpleasant than just jokes. Ask Ysak about what his ground crew did to him a few times during training and you'll have some idea. If you don't wanna get nabbed off the street and rolled down a hill in a full garbage can though, you'd better pay some mind to how the public sees you." Athrun had elaborated with full seriousness.

Kira raised an arm and placed it across his brow, blocking out the near cave like darkness of the room into total darkness as he covered his half awake eyes wearily. Things just kept getting more and more complex with every passing day. Oftentimes he felt like he would just fall over and blow up, with all the stuff raging around inside him... but he couldn't because as bad as he felt, as confused as he was, the world situation was far more confused, and much worse off. Orb was starting to look like a nation again, with its own military and most of its own government. But the EA had yet to formerly recognize Orb as an independent nation again, despite the loss of their occupation force and the reconstruction of the Orb Government under Cagalli. ZAFT and the PLANTS had been similarly wary of extending political recognition to the fledgling government, as if afraid that by acknowledging it they would cause it to crumble again. It was extremely frustrating, for Cagalli especially and Orb as a whole, because without recognized nation status from one or the other superpower, Orb would receive no international aid, wasn't covered under any of the ethical arms or war conduct treaties and could basically just be categorized as an extremely large and well armed mercenary group. Being recognized by the EA was of course expected to be hard, since they would have little desire to once again lose Orb from their fold and it would be much harder, politically, to re-invade a sovereign nation than push a mercenary squatter group off owned territory. But the lack of recognition from the PLANTS, who had nothing to lose and much to gain from a free Orb, that was troubling. The situation in space was very murky... too murky for anyone on the ground's liking. There was much talk of sending the Archangel and perhaps the Kusanagi into space in the near future, with a full delegation along to sort things out properly. Kira was looking forward to it, to getting back to the clearness of space.

And then, most recently, there was the chaotic series of events that had revolved around Sai. First there had come the split in Blue Cosmos, a previously unknown schism in its ranks which had chosen the time right after Purgatory Day to make its bid for power within the global organization. Kira, like most Coordinators and all of his friends, had been nothing but pleased to hear of Blue Cosmos having political infighting. The more those crazy nutjobs spent their time hacking the political legs out from under each other, the less time they would be spending on committing atrocities against innocent Coordinators and the PLANTS. Kira had been rocked, much like everyone else, to learn that Sai was the leader of the breakaway faction, known as the Isolationists, who preferred a peaceful solution to the war and a subsequent segregation, seperate but equal in the most literal sense of things, of Naturals and Coordinators, for the forseeable future. Kira had read some of Sai's dissertations online shortly afterwards and while he thought his erstwhile friend made a lot of good points about the problems with the current system, he had to admit he had very strong doubts about the ability of any Blue Cosmos sanctioned policy to result in long term peace. Coordinators had been burned too many times by trusting the fires of Natural good will, especially by Blue Cosmos actions. He wasn't saying it couldn't work, though he found the whole Isolation principle somewhat simplistic and childish, just that he didn't think the atmosphere of trust and mutual respect that the plan relied so heavily on would materialize in any sort of time to make the plan feasible. There was too much blood under the bridge, to use Alkire's terminology, for trust and respect to reappear overnight between the two nations.

And then had come the electrifying news broadcast showing the assassination attempt by Blue Cosmos Puritan soldiers, the sect that Cervantes commanded, on Sai and his wife Vanai and their close friends at Sai's house in Hawaii. Kira had watched, riveted as anyone and everyone else in the world at the extraordinarily brave but effectively hopeless resistance the Isolationist guards put up against the Puritan MAGOS soldiers, outnumbered and outgunned. Though they certainly weren't outfought... Kira saw the defenders clearly in several shots and he easily recalled their uniforms from his own personal experiences aganst them and he was far from the only person in the private conference theatre in the Orb National Palace that had shivered when the defenders were identified as Hellhounds. Still, despite the quality of the troops, there was little they could hope to do against the superior numbers of enemy soldiers, who were also highly trained special operatives. Especially when the ultimate wild card of Zacharis Frost was tossed into the game against them. Lacus, Cagalli and Miriallia had barely held onto their shrieks while Athrun, Kira and Dearka had jerked reflexively away from the screen when Frost appeared on it, facing off against a man whom Alkire identified as Lieutenant Cyprus Finch, one of the Hellhound leaders, by his voice. They watched with extreme disquiet as Frost made his usual unstoppable way past Cyprus and, to everyone who'd been to Panama to rescue Ysak's surprise, Ashino, alive and well enough to be pummeled into unconsciousness by the other BCPU. Plainly there had been some editing done to the video, because only after the confrontation between Asmodeus and Sai in the underground broadcast room did the video clip of Asmodeus's little chat with Ashino get air time, even though it obviously happened some time before the final confrontation.

"Somehow I'm getting the feeling that this was bubbling under the surface for a long time now, and we're just barely seeing the tip of the proverbial iceberg." Waltfeld had commented, after listening to the back and forth between Ashino and Asmodeus. "That little frankenstein there, Ashino or whatever his name is, he didn't just fall into Sai's camp out of the sky." Waltfeld had continued, ignoring Lacus's narrowed eyes of disapproval at his callous term for Ashino. Waltfeld had turned to Alkire. "And I may not have been as fully dialled in to the infantry war as you probably were, Major, but I still heard more than a few things about the Hellhounds. A few of those were even about the so called "Lieutenant". From what I heard, he's not a man who switches loyalties lightly, and now we see him fighting against the Blue Cosmos Puritans, who must be his old bosses. There must be something else compelling besides the words and philosophies of a mere boy, barely into adulthood, behind the creation of these Isolationists."

"Cyprus Finch doesn't change loyalties. I don't think he's changed sides at all." Alkire had said with a slight smile. "He's still on the side he was always on, the side that fights for peace. He's not a political soldier, though he is quite politically astute, and he does work for politicians... of course, we all do, don't we? No, the only reason Cyprus is in Sai's camp is because Sai's camp is the one that stands the best chance of bringing peace, in Cyprus's estimation."

"If he's so peace minded, why's he in the Hellhounds? Why was he working for Asmodeus and Blue Cosmos in the first place?" Dearka had asked.

"I don't know his reasons, no one but him does. I can speculate though." Alkire had answered, slowly. "Let me put it like this... you fought for ZAFT, to preserve and protect the PLANTS. You did what your chain of command told you to do to the best of your ability, and did not generally question whys or wherefores. Why? Because you're a soldier, a professional soldier. Does that mean you always agreed with the policies and actions of your superiors? Of course not, but you followed their orders when they came anyway. At least until things got to a point where the orders coming from above were so ludicrous and impossible that you had to take a stand and do the right thing by refusing to follow them and setting your own course under new leadership."

"Like what happened between me and Le Creusete at Jachin Due." Ysak had piped up, a dark look on his face, from his post in one corner of the room. "I'd admired that... man... my entire military career. And then he tried to kill Dearka and then me, as part of a plot to cause the extinction of humanity."

"Sure." Alkire had replied, not being well informed about the events of that battle, which had happened far away in space, not connected to his own war. "And Cyprus is peace minded like I am, except more so. He's not genocidal, but killing people to bring peace doesn't weigh on his mind, as far as I've ever been able to determine. He led the attack on the subway tunnels against us, and was likely responsible for at least some of the deaths of the protest leaders in the Blue Cosmos secret attacks beforehand. Once he's identified people as enemies, he has no mercy and no forgiveness and no second thoughts for them."

"I wouldn't sell Sai short either. He may only be a year older than Kira, but let's not forget his experiences aboard the Archangel during the last war." Murrue added. "He was our information and electronic warfare technician from the day after Heliopolis's destruction until several weeks after Jachin Due. If theres a faster, surer way to give someone maturity than giving them crushing responsibility and lots of life or death situations to worry about it in, I don't know what it is."

"He comes from a wealthy family too, even if they are slightly estranged and impoverished after Heliopolis and the first ruination of Orb. I never noticed him having any problems being outgoing and personable during time at school in Heliopolis... in fact he was one of those universally popular people." Mirialla chimed in. "He got along with everyone, from the loud jocks to the quiet, nerdy people like Kira, to the goofy, go it alone crowd, like... Tolle. And me." She picked up her voice again after a moment of lip chewing. "He was engaged to Fllay, daughter of the former vice foriegn minister of the EA. Responsibility and the ability to stand up under pressure weren't new things to Sai... he was the first one to volunteer to help out on the Archangel. He was always the leader amongst us volunteers."

"Still, the kind of backing that it would require to marshal the forces needed to stand up to Cervantes Zunnichi... a byword for immense wealth and power if there ever was one, even without his ties to Blue Cosmos..." Waltfeld had replied, stubbornly clinging to his point.

"He's married to Vanai Zunnichi, remember? It was at their wedding that we got kidnapped." Kira spoke up. "I've no doubt that you're right, Sai does have a lot of backers and support, that he's a figurehead for a much bigger group of people. But I don't think he's a puppet leader... the Isolationist's are his creation, and anyone else is either an ally or a follower. He's got a lot more natural charisma and leadership ability than I do. And he's smart... maybe not technically smart like a lot of Coordinators are, but he's definitely people smart. He knows how to talk to them, how to convince people that he's right, how to make friends and avoid arguments that would lead to becoming enemies. He knows how to trust, and how to delegate responsibility. He learned how to be a good leader from people like Captain Ramius, Mu, Lord Nara Attha, Mr. Kisaka and you yourself, Mr. Waltfeld."

_Kira..._

Kira pulled his arm off his eyes and looked around the room for the source of the whisper. The bedroom was still empty, the door shut, the lights out, everything undisturbed.

_Kira..._ This time the whisper had a note of reproach to it and he listened carefully, realizing that it didn't come from the room around him, but from within the confines of his own skull. The voice was instantly recognizable to him, naturally, since it was the one voice he treasured above all others in the world. He just wasn't used to this whole mental thing yet... most times, hearing voices, even of loved ones, in your head was grounds for registration at an asylum, in his book. "Lacus?" he asked, tenatively, to the empty room. Katie had told both him and Lacus that when communicating with Newtype powers it wasn't necessary for them to speak out loud as well, that merely forming the thoughts would allow the Active, Lacus in this case, to pluck them from his mind without need for verbalization while she was communicating with him, but Kira still hadn't brought himself around to the point where he could manage just thinking a conversation with a person, without words. Neither had Ysak, from the number of times Kira had seen him not quite whispering to not just himself in hallways and out of the way rooms.

_You want to talk?_ She asked him. "Well I was kinda sleeping, but then I noticed you were gone. Guess I had a little bit of an introspective flashback going."

_I noticed. You were getting agitated. You want to talk about it? A lot has happened over the last few days._ Lacus's mental voice managed to convey far more concern than even her normally expressive voice could, since she was sending him her emotions straight from their source, without translation through any other part of her brain or body. Kira swung his feet out of bed and sat up, patting himself down briefly to make sure he was clothed... sometimes he wasn't, when he was really tired, and he forgot about it after waking up. He'd yet to fully embarass himself by walking into the common breakfast area in his birthday suit, but he'd come pretty damn close a few times. The mental giggle he got from Lacus during this brief distracted moment sent all sorts of shivers and goosebumps running along his skin... giggle's were always like that. It wasn't always the most pleasant of sensations, but this time, at night, in a bedroom, it was quite provocative. He forced his body to relax and snagged a pair of trousers from a dresser across the room, navigating by memory with a few barely noticed mental nudges from Lacus's memory. Sometimes it seemed like she spent more time in his head than her own, but so far she seemed to be handling things just fine, without any troubles.

"Where are you?" he asked, slipping into the pants, but remaining shirtless and shoeless... this was practically his house now, even if it was just a single floor of a much larger building, with common spaces shared by several bedrooms, an old ambassadorial suite that currently housed Lacus and himself, plus Dearka and Miriallia as well as Ysak and Katie. Athrun and Cagalli quite naturally had the Presidential quarters several levels above, while the rest of their friends were staying in the somewhat simpler and smaller guest rooms in the basements of the complex. Kira had thought about protesting about taking up all the good rooms, but everyone had been quietly insistent on it. Or not so quietly... Waltfeld hadn't hesistated to point out, quite publicly, that Lacus simply could not stay in a small public servant's room, not with all the reporters snooping around. She needed quarters befitting her so called "status". Kira had to admit, the privacy was nice, with all the rooms being extensively soundproofed. The bed's were soft too. And with no windows in the bedrooms, that meant that whatever happened in them...

_Stay's in them. My, you're becoming quite the lech, Kira._ Lacus mock admonished, with another giggle that didn't help his thought paths. _I remember a time not so very long ago when even thinking about kissing me was enough to cause you to stammer and blush, much less where your mind was wandering just now._ "And I remember a time when even thinking about making a comment like that, much less use the word "lech", would have done the same to you. It was about the same time, I think." Kira retorted. _I'm on the balcony, ocean side view, by the way. Whatever happened to us, that transformed us from such shy, tenative people into the wicked teenagers we are today?_ "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with how many of the mysteries of what goes on behind the bedroom doors of our parents we found out for ourselves since then." Kira said, with a slight smile, heading out of their bedroom into the common area, which was mostly dark as well, lit only by a few shafts of moonlight streaming in from the doors leading to the outer, wraparound balcony. _I doubt my parents did the things we do._ Lacus's thoughts were dimmed for a moment with tightly contained sorrow at the mention of her dead father and mother, but it was gone before he could comment on it.

"I don't know. Someone had to come up with everything, else we wouldn't know to try it. And I have trouble believing even Dearka is creative enough to come up with a few of the things I've heard of, so he must have gotten them from somewhere." This last comment he spoke to her back, coming up behind her and to her side, where she stood on the balcony looking out at the nighttime ocean, its water glittering very dimly with the light of the moon. She wore a simple nightgown that would probably be light pink in daylight, but the moonlight turned it a more cream white, washing out all color, leaving only shades behind. He slipped one arm casually over her shoulders and rested his other hand on the rail, looking out at the sea and up at the night sky above, which was almost entirely clear, with a few small clouds low on the horizon and a three quarters moon overhead.

"This is a delightful conversation, if anyone but our friends were to overhear it." Lacus murmured, tucking her head up against his side. She felt him chuckle. It was a good feeling and a good sound. She couldn't hear it often enough, after all the pain and suffering he'd endured and continued to endure even now.

"Try as we may, there's no getting over the fact that we're teenagers. Maybe not your average college age kids off the street, but there's a few things that just aren't fully under our control. Hormones are one of them. An interest in sex is an outgrowth of hormones." Kira replied. He made it sound sensible, and then he chuckled again. "Still, I'd imagine we'd be ruining even more fantasies than we already have if we were overhead, so maybe we should change the subject to something less explosive."

"Something like politics?" Lacus murmured. She felt him wince inside her head, though his outward expression was as clam and focused as ever. _Odd times indeed, when politics is a safer topic than sex._ The thought wasn't exactly meant for him, but it reached him anyway, like most of her thoughts that weren't carefully shielded did. This connection they had, as intimate Active and Latent Newtypes, yes it was very convenient a lot of the time, allowing her to sense exactly how he was feeling so she could head off any problems before they occured, not to mention the instantaneous and perfectly private communication between them it allowed... but it took a lot of getting used to. A lot. It wasn't like beepcalling, which she was still learning how to do... she had to concentrate on NOT sending him emotions and thoughts, rather than the reverse. Sure, maybe there wasn't all that much about her thoughts and her feelings that she didn't want Kira privy to, and vice versa, but the mind was and always would be a very private place... memories that no one else had any business looking at were in there. She felt that there was a very good chance she might accidentally look in on one of Kira's private memories or send him one of her own sometime, and something that awkward wasn't something they needed cluttering up their relationship, especially with all the outside problems they had discovered they had.

"That's a hell of an understatement." Kira allowed with a slight half smile. "I thought that maybe all of our problems were solved after Asmodeus surrendered to Sai on TV. He and Frost were in custody, Cervantes and Blue Cosmos were disgraced and under investigation, with Cervantes himself under house arrest. Cervantes isn't the only problem, as we both know from looking at his computer just how widespread the membership of upper echelon Blue Cosmos is, but he was the worst of them by far. Most of them were only in Blue Cosmos for economic or political reasons... he was the driving force behind the genocidal hatred of all things Coordinator."

"But then Panama happened." Lacus supplied as he trailed off. He nodded once, his eyes blank as he stared up at the sky, as if looking for a future written up there.

"But then Panama happened." Kira agreed. "Yesterday morning everything in the world was looking up... then Panama was destroyed. We still don't know how or by what or who, all we know is that the mass driver is once again a big pile of scrap, while the base itself is almost totally ruined, devastated to a degree far greater than when it was attacked by ZAFT in the last war. Orb radar tracked two objects on escape velocity courses from the Porta Panama mass driver, both launched less than an hour before it was destroyed. All we know about those is that one was very large, almost the size of a space frigate and one was very small, only a little bigger than a mobile suit." Kira brought his gaze down and looked in Lacus's lilac eyes. "As if that wasn't enough, all contact we had, tenuous as it was, with the EA high command, has been completely cut off as of this morning. Our phone calls and messages go through to them, but there is no answer. For what reason, we cannot determine. No one Cagalli, Alkire, Murrue or Waltfeld has talked to has any idea what's going on, or if they do know they are keeping the secret very well."

"And then there's the news of the renewed activity in ZAFT up in the PLANTS, according to Mr. Waltfeld." Lacus added for him. "They've been rebuilding ever since Carpentaria and now it looks like they're ready at last to renew the war full force." Kira nodded again.

"I just can't shake a really bad feeling. Like that everything in this war so far has just been a precursor, a sideshow to what's about to happen. Cervantes has disappeared again... he's probably dead if he remained in Panama, but what if he caused what happened there? Frost was taken captive too, and we both know there is absolutely no containing him when he gets going. The EA has cut us off, the PLANTS won't talk to us, both sides look like they're more than ready to start up the war where they left off... what exactly did we accomplish on Purgatory Day, anyway? Orb is free again, don't get me wrong, I'm fully appreciative of that... but..."

"You were expecting a more widespread, worldwide response." Lacus finished. She sighed, ever so slightly. "You're not the only one. All those people dead... this city wrecked... the damage done to the lives and livelihoods of millions of people in Orb alone, not to mention around the world... and it's all taken backstage to the new events circulating around Sai. I don't think it'll be forgotten anytime soon, but as long as the infighting between the Isolationists and Puritans continues, it will not be in the public eye, and if it isn't there, any memory of the event will be severly curtailed in its ability to affect the world political state. It's deplorable to think of it this way, but Sai planned his event better than we planned ours. A mobile suit tearing down a city and slaughtering crowds of innocent people is terrible... almost too terrible. The world is in shock over it, many people almost afraid to believe something so terrible could actually happen. Armed soldiers sent to assassinate a young man and his lovely wife in their sleep well, it's not as hard to imagine, if almost equally deplorable."

"And then comes the mystery, of course. The bad guys get caught red handed and are rounded up for trial... then they disappear and a major military base is destroyed, oddly enough the same one where they were being held prisoner." Kira wrapped up the thought. "Too much coincidence there. No one is going to let this go until whatever happened at Panama is finally found out, and revealed to the public fully and properly."

"Given the nature of the situation, I don't know if that will ever happen, Kira. Full disclosure has only rarely been a tool of the people in charge of the EA." Lacus said. They let the conversation die away, staring out at the placid ocean together for most of another hour, endeavoring to take it's calm into their troubled minds, to little avail. They couldn't know that their problems were already being adressed, at least in a manner of speaking.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dead!? What do you mean, they're all dead?" Sai almost shouted at the nervous eyed EA official who'd come to see him in his office in Hawaii. The EA had tried to put him in protective custody, under the care and protection of their own soldiers, but Sai knew well how rife the ranks of the EA military was with the supporters of Blue Cosmos... all too often Puritans. He wasn't about to put himself on the execution block by trusting soldiers who privately believed in the ideals of his estranged father in law to keep him alive. He moved out of his destroyed house and set up shop at his office in Hawaii, which was rapidly becoming the headquarters for the Isolationist movement worldwide. It wasn't anywhere near as comfortable and homey as the mansion, but difficult times called for tough measures. Even Vanai was putting up with things tolerably well, though she intensely disliked sleeping on a fold out couch in his office. She didn't particularly like playing secretary for him either, but he'd had to replace his old secretaries, who'd all been Puritan moles planted by Cervantes to watch over him. And currently he didn't have anyone else of sufficient security clearance to take his calls, other than her. Thomas Glory was still in the hospital, recovering from his re-opened wounds, which he had suffered from the blasting charge that had taken off the door to the hideaway in Sai's mansion during the attack. Most of the surviving Hellhounds were in the hospital as well, recovering from various gunshot and shrapnel wounds suffered during the seige.

By all rights, Cyprus should have been in the hospital, sporting a broken collarbone and compound fracture of the wrist on opposite limbs, not to mention severely gashed fingers on his right hand and more bruises and minor cuts than could be easily counted. With his left arm in a sling and his right wrist in a cast, plus several yards of bandages wrapped around various parts of his body, he certainly looked like he should be in intensive care. But Cyprus had refused all but the most perfunctory of treatments, settling for relocating his disjointed left arm and the bare minimum of bone regenerative procedures for his collarbone and wrist. The minor injuries he allowed to be covered, but no more than that... as far as Sai could tell Cyprus was getting around with only local anasthetics to dull the pain at shoulder and wrist, not true painkillers. He'd thought about ordering his friend to lay off it a bit and get some needed rest, but the look on Cyprus's face when Sai had opened his mouth to give that order had killed it before he could voice it. Sai reflected that the Lieutenant wasn't so good at following orders he didn't like... a common feature of a lot of soldiers he respected.

So instead of being in a bed, recuperating like any reasonable person would be, Cyprus stood guard just inside the door to Sai's office, while Ramierez, who'd come through the whole fight with MAGOS with only a few bullet bruises to show for it, stood armed watch outside with Vanai and a few of the higher level Isolationists. What precisely Cyprus planned to do to protect Sai with two bum arms, Sai wasn't sure, but he didn't doubt that whatever it was would be very effective... that's just how Cyprus was. As if that wasn't protection enough, Markov Ashino also stood in his office whenever he was there, and generally followed Sai around like a red haired limpet. Though soundly beaten by Frost, Ashino was a BCPU as well, and despite the continued lack of his required drug, gamma whateveritwas, he still healed far faster than any Natural. By the end of the first day after the attack he was already walking around without pain, and by the end of the second all of his bruises and cuts were healed. Sai jerked his mind back to the here and now, looking at the minor official in front of him, a sweating man in a grainy brown business suit and white shirt with grey tie... the very image of a political nobody, a messenger of no one important.

"Say that again, slowly and clearly." Sai ordered, leaning back in his chair, his steady gaze never leaving the edgy brown eyes of the man standing in front of his desk. The man gulped and chewed his lip as he sought to moisten his dry mouth, while his hands quivered and twitched at his sides, carefully fully within view of both Ashino and Cyprus, who watched the man with unfriendly looks on their faces from either side of the office. Truly, the man was a poster boy for nervous tics, but he had reason to be discomfited... he was apparently the bearer of very bad news, and the glares from Ashino and Cyprus did nothing to ease his job.

"Y-ye-yes, s-sir." The man, who was an assistant undersecretary for public works in the Atlantic Federation and completely out of his depth in the halls of the truly powerful, swallowed again and restated his message in as clear and calm voice as he could manage. "D-doubtless you've h-heard about what happened recently in P-panama. The base was destroyed and the mass d-driver rendered in-inoperable. Y-You also probably know that P-Panama was where Cervantes Z-Zunnichi was being held prior to trial, along with his a-accomplices."

"Skip ahead to what we don't know." Cyprus advised. The flunky nodded so many times and so rapidly that Ashino thought his head might roll right off his shoulders.

"W-well, what w-wasn't p-public knowledge was that there was a p-pretrial. Held this morning, for the accused and his a-accomplices."

"A pretrial?" Sai arced one eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. "Why would they hold a secret pretrial just before they took him to court..." Sai trailed off and glanced around the office briefly before returning his gaze to the messenger. "Don't bother providing me with an answer, I believe I know why, given my knowledge of Blue Cosmos and Cervantes. What happened at this pretrial?"

"Well, s-sir, first you should know who a-attended the pretrial." the flunky said. There was a long pause as the man screwed up his courage. "No one is supposed to say anything... b-but I-I-I... can't let it go on like it has, you u-understand? S-someone has to do something. I... I didn't know who else to go to. T-things are s-so confused."

"Just tell us who attended the pretrial." Ashino recommended, trying hard not to sound intimidating. It must have worked, because the man looked slightly more in control as he straightened up again, and swallowed yet another time.

"Everyone." the man whispered.

"What?" Sai leaned even further forward.

"I... I said, everyone, s-sir. The President... the Vice President, the Secretary of State, the Senate and Congressional Party leaders, the Speaker of the House... everyone senior enough to matter in the Atlantic Federation. The same for the Eurasian Federation and every other country in the Earth Alliance. The Joint Chief's of Staff as well as most of their general staffs. All the major corporate leaders and economic figureheads. Name anyone important in world politics on Earth and odds are, t-they were there."

"I see. And?" Sai prodded.

"A-and... a-and they're all d-d-dead, s-sir. A-all of them. I-including, C-Cervantes Z-Zunnichi." The man paused and swallowed. "No evidence has been found of either of Cervantes's accomplices, though t-things a-are... w-well... let me s-show y-you..." the man reached up into his coat pocket. Cyprus took two steps forward, an extremely displeased expression on his face, gun appearing in his left hand, even bound in a sling as it was. Ashino reacted little differently, though he was able to hold his gun normally. Both men aimed directly at the head of the flunky and their aim did not waver even slightly, even as he froze in mid gesture. "NO!" the man squealed. "I-I'm just grabbing s-some pi-pictures! Please d-don't s-shoot m-me!"

Cyprus nodded to Ashino and kept the man covered while the BCPU stepped forward and reached into the man's coat for him, removing a small cardboard folder from an interior pocket. Ashino tore the twine that tied the package shut off with a simple twitch of his fingers and slowly opened the folder, alert for any traps or otherwise threatening reactions from either the man or the folder. It was amazing what forms explosives could take these days, not to even mention things like contact poisons and viral warfare. Ashino ran his hands over each photograph as he looked at them dispassionately, checking for anything out of place. There was nothing... just standard high quality digital pictures. "He's clean." Cyprus slowly backed down, though the gun didn't quite go away... he was a lot touchier than he'd used to be, before the assassination attempt. Ashino finished flipping through the pictures, careful to keep any expression off his face... it wasn't that hard, they were much like he'd expected them to be, ever since the nervous man had said that Frost and Asmodeus were missing.

Sai flipped through a photoshoot of a massacre, worse than anything any horror movie had ever prepared him for. People were not so much killed as torn to shreds, heads twisted from shoulders, limbs ripped off and torsos smashed in pulpy ruins. There was so much blood on the ground he'd initially mistaken it for red carpeting on the floor and wallpaper on the walls. The pictures didn't bring it fully into scale, but there must have been more than a hundred bodies in wherever the photos were taken. He did some swallowing of his own. "I... see..."

"Cervantes Zunnichi was found with his heart ripped from his chest and crushed. The rest of the victims in the briefing theatre were also killed by a person using their bare hands and experts believe all killing was accomplished by a single person within a fifteen minute timespan. There were thirty six members of the Secret Service in the room at the time. Most were unable to even fire their weapons. There were fifty soldiers directly outside the completely secure room, who obviously heard nothing from within the room. They are in scarcely better condition than the delegates inside. Again, forensic specialists agree that they were killed by at most one or two subjects, and only half the soldiers were able to get off shots of their own, to no apparent effect. Frankly, we're all stumped as to how that came to be." the flunky said, reciting a portion of the message he'd rehearsed on the flight over from New New York.

"I'm not." Sai replied, struggling for calm. He didn't elaborate though... this man had no need to know about the capabilities of the BCPU's. He thought about a bunch of unsuspecting civilians and aging military officers, trapped in a room with a killer strong enough to tear down a cinderblock wall with his bare hands... no, he wasn't stumped at all. The fifty soldiers outside the door must have been packed in like sardines in a can... they would have had little better chance than the politico's, especially if Frost had armed himself. "Is there anything else?" Sai forced himself to ask, dreading the answer.

"Well..." the flunky replied in a steadier voice, calmed himself by how professional the younger Mr. Zunnichi was being. "Let's see... oh yes. The base was destroyed, we think by a mobile suit or suits, exact type we're not sure of. The secret project that Cervantes was preparing in the SLHB (Super Large Hanger Bay) was gone when damage control teams arrived, as were all the mobile suit supplies that had been stockpiled there since whatever it was that was inside first arrived. While the destruction of base structures and materials is close to ninety seven percent, casualties amongst troops stationed there are fortunately only about forty five percent... whatever attacked the base seemed primarily interested in destroying the base itself, plus the mass driver, not killing off the soldiers stationed there."

"He wanted to be sure no one would follow him." Ashino said out loud. Sai shot him a glance and then nodded at the flunky. Ashino took the hint. Not a topic for discussion around possibly unsecure ears.

"So let me sum it up. Cervantes is dead. The world leaders, political, economic and military, are all dead, along with their senior chains of command. Porta Panama might as well not exist, for all its current military value. We've lost that mass driver again. Asmodeus Sark and Zacharis Frost are missing, presumed dead, probably killed by the same force that destroyed the base, whatever it was. Also, a highly secret Blue Cosmos and EA cooperative project has gone missing from its high security hanger in Panama, along with a great deal of supplies for mobile suits that had been stockpiled there. This happened either right before or during the attack that destroyed the base. Right now, there is quite literally no one in charge of the EA. Is that what I'm hearing?" Sai asked the flunky, narrowing his eyes.

"U-uhh... um... y-yes, s-sir?" the man sounded scared out of his wits. The smile that broke out across the younger Mr. Zunnichi's face did nothing to calm his renewed apprehension... what sort of man could hear such devastating news and SMILE? Sai leaned back in his chair again and fought to keep his expression under control... no need to freak out the messenger, even if the news he brought wasn't nearly the apocalyptic tragedy he thought it was. He couldn't pretend to be happy about the current state of affairs as revealed to him, but neither could he deny that this certainly felt a lot like divine intervention in his favor.

"You did very well to bring this to my attention. You can rest assured that I, and the world, will not forget the very brave and couragous thing you have done today. Without your help, the world could very well have spiralled down into chaos and doom and nobody would have been the wiser for that condition until it was far too late." Sai told the flunky, whose name he couldn't remember. Doubtless Cyprus or Ashino would... they had far more focused minds than his, especially when his own was churning at lightspeed. "Please, wait outside for a while, would you? I can have rooms prepared for you in the lower levels of the office building, if you'd like, or we can arrange for a flight back to New New York. As you can doubtless imagine,the news you've given me now changes a great deal of things, and I cannot afford to hesitate to act to correct the problems I now see in front of me." the man bowed and practically fled almost as soon as Sai even got done with his praise of the man... plainly he could not have been more uncomfortable unless Cyprus and Ashino had kept their guns on him. Sai shrugged slightly... to each their own, some people just didn't have physical courage, though the man had demonstrated extremes of loyalty in defying the orders of whoever was trying to keep the massacre a secret to fly out and tell Sai about it.

After the door was shut there was a few seconds of silence while each of the three men present gathered their thoughts and organized them into coherent form. Sai first fixed his gaze upon Ashino. "So I think we're all in agreement then? Frost and Asmodeus are not dead. Indeed, they are the two most likely suspects for the massacre as well as the subsequent destruction of Panama."

"I cannot completely vouch for Asmodeus, though he does strike me as exremely hard to kill, for a Natural, but Frost... most definitely, he's alive." Ashino replied, his voice completely without doubt. "With Cervantes in disgrace and imprisoned, most of the people involved with the inner workings of the BCPU project would have been rounded up and imprisoned as well. Most likely Frost was only contained with regular maximum security protocols, designed with humans or Coordinators in mind. It must have been hard for him, playing the good captive until the right moment for carnage arrived. Personally, I'm very surprised, I did not think he had that sort of restraint in him."

"Before the assassination attempt, I'd have agreed with you." Cyprus said, cutting in. "However, while you were unconscious and I was disabled, Frost spoke to me about his plans... for what reason I'll probably never know, maybe none but the need for the megolomaniacal to have people groveling at their mercy. The picture he painted for me was hardly clear, but the major points I got out of it are these: one, Frost sees himself as both the ultimate threat to mankind and the ultimate peacebringer. Two, Frost is planning to somehow force all of humanity to unite against him. Three, Frost plans to destroy all of humanity, after they've united against him. Particulars as to how he plans to accomplish either of the latter two goals are beyond me, though he seemed nothing less than certain he could do it."

"I think I understand." Ashino gazed blankly at the wall for a moment. "Yes, it's certainly possible."

"What is?" Sai asked.

"As you may or may not have known, the BCPU project was commenced to provide pilots for the EA Gundams, the GAT series of advanced mobile suits. Our predecessors for the original GAT series, then Frost, Cray, Amy and myself for the GAT-Super series, though Amy's machine was never completed. However, the Blue Cosmos design team also created one more machine in a new series, the GAT-Ultra. I never saw anything more than partial schematics and outlines for it, but I remember hearing the Doc talk about it in progress reports to Cervantes. It's called the Judgement, and it's purpose was to serve as the main tool in bringing about the destruction of the PLANTS. It was the command model for the GAT-Super series, an ultimate machine, if you will. Now, obviously I cannot say from personal experience just how ultimate it is... but what little I know about its specs is more than enough to account for the wreckage of Panama. There is no way Frost could have destroyed a base of that size with the Fury alone... it isn't equipped for mass destruction. Even the Merciless would have been pressed to assure nearly one hundred precent destruction."

"So Frost took the Judgement and the Fury and used one or a combination of them to destroy Panama and the mass driver, after either setting explosives or otherwise ensuring the later destruction of the mass driver so that no effective pursuit could be launched against him." Sai tapped his fingers on his desk. "But why? What can he hope to accomplish with just two mobile suits, extremely powerful or not?"

Ashino smiled slightly, the expression grim. "Pardon my inability to properly explain. The Judgement should not be classified as a mere mobile suit... it is a humanoid battleship more than three times the size of the Merciless. I'm not privy to it's full armament list, but I know it carries multiple nuclear missiles plus capital space warship category weaponry. Combined with triple layer phase shift armor and a lightwave barrier Citadel array much like the one the Merciless was equipped with, it is quite simply put the most heavily armed and armored machine currently in space."

"I see." Sai's lips pressed together in a firm line of displeasure. "So we've got an apocalyptic madman on the loose with what amounts to the power to annihilate an entire civilization. That's wonderful."

"That's not even the tip of the iceberg." Cyprus pointed out. "Frost is a loose cannon, but he's still, at most, a national level threat. ZAFT is not blind or stupid... it won't take them long to connect the disaster at Panama with the hesistancy in the senior levels of the political and military sectors of the EA and get the correct conclusion... that currently, there is no leadership worthy of the name in the EA. They've been building their forces back up ever since Carpentaria and even more recently the scale of their buildup has intensified dramatically. They will be ready to make a move on us in a matter of days, not weeks. And currently, we are weaker than we have ever been before."

"I agree. But where will they move on us? I cannot claim to be near the expert in military matters as you are." Sai acknowledged. "If you were them, where would you attack?"

"They'll hit the lunar bases. It's really their only choice. Carpentaria is still a mess, logistically speaking, and what ground forces they have are far too firmly dug in to be able to mobilize for another ground assualt within the timeframe I'm seeing them using. Added on to that is the fact that, historically, the ground war has never gone altogether in ZAFT's favor... every time they make a major commitment in force it turns out to either be a trap or a debacle, like JOSH-A or Carpentaria. No, they'll be hitting the moon. The Ptolmiaus base was annihilated by GENESIS at the end of the last war, but we have several other lunar fleet bases on both the light and dark sides of the moon, not to mention the factory and civilian cities. If they can disable or even occupy those bases then space will belong to them and there won't be a thing we will ever be able to do to strike directly at the PLANTS ever again. Personally I'm surprised they didn't try tactics like this sooner, though Endymion was a major loss for them, I guess, and the moon always has been very well defended. Of course... that was with strong leadership..." Cyprus trailed off with a slight flair of dramaticism.

"Do you think they know the truth?" Sai asked.

"I don't see how they can... we didn't even know the truth until just now." Ashino observed.

"The ZAFT intelligence network is very good. But they aren't that good." Cyprus agreed. "Of course, I might be wrong and maybe they do know we don't have leaders. I'm sure many of them suspect something of the sort, no matter what they know. But if they really did know, I think we'd already be under attack."

"We'll operate under the assumption that they do know the EA currently has no effective leadership and that their attack will commence at any moment." Sai said firmly. He leaned forward towards his desk and started typing commands into his keyboard, initiating calls to all his key staff and allies around the world. The room darkened as the windows polarized and the lights dimmed in preparation for another videoconference. "This isn't how I wanted things to go. If possible, I wanted to work with Cervantes, or at worst replace him peaceably. Instead, I've got a fractured Blue Cosmos, a depressed military, an angry public and a massive gaping hole where I was planning to recruit supporters from in anticipation of assuming the reins of command. But I guess you have to work with the cards fate deals you. This is all preliminary, but Cyprus, you will be leading the war effort. No, don't protest, I'm not promoting you, I'm just giving you extra responsibility." Sai ordered, cutting off the expected complaint before Cyprus could voice it.

"What about me?" Ashino asked.

"You'll be assisting Cyprus. He'll be in control of the regular military... I want you to take charge of the mobile suit forces. I'll be putting both of you in more permanent contact with the R and D department, so you can coordinate the integration of the Cataphract and Archmage systems into our arsenal, as well as any other new technologies we can whip up before the end of the war." Sai said, even as the screens around him started flickering to life, showing the surprised and concerned faces of his major supporters worldwide. "I will be stepping forward to take the reins of overall command. This is not a burden I would have sought out, but given the current state of things, I have no choice but to assume it now because there is simply no one else who can. Hopefully my tenure as world leader will be brief and successful. With your support, my friends, and the support of the good people of this world, we can bring this war to a swift and bloodless end." Sai activated his microphone so he could address his supporters. "A recent bit of tragic news has come to my attention recently, my friends. Because of this news, which I will shortly relate to you, our timetable has been moved up dramatically... to now. Get your people moving and follow the plan... ZAFT will be hitting us in a matter of days and we have to be as strong then as we always have been. Now... let me speak of something very unpleasant..."

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"This machine really is amazing." Frost muttured to himself as he looked over a self diagnostic of the Judgement for perhaps the fifth or sixth time. After slaughtering the lambs in the briefing theatre he'd gone directly to the hanger where the Fury was stored, killing all who were unfortunate enough to cross his path. He'd been engineered to kill any Coordinator or especially Coordinator's, plural, who'd dared to challenge him, thus fighting through a bunch of second rate Natural garrison soldiers was hardly even an exercise. He'd planned to head directly for the Fury, but upon seeing the recently completed Judgement lying on its maintenance cradles, his instincts had thrummed with pleasure. He'd become instantly convinced that he'd just been gifted with a sign from whatever force controlled the universe that his path was the correct one. It hadn't taken him long to hack the computer codes locking out access to the Judgements controls... unlike weasly little Ashino, he'd never really specialized in non-combatant skills like data hacking, but he'd still received the same training and in his current, almost hyper-enlightened state, he found it far easier than usual to concentrate on the small, boring tasks.

Compared to the Fury, piloting the Judgement was like walking around with a full size sofa strapped to each of his limbs... they weren't exactly heavy, but they were very unwieldy and inelegant. Each step took a seeming eternity between when he moved the controls and when he felt the impact of the foot hitting the ground, even thoug the delay was still less than a second. Upon first standing up in the machine... incidentally tearing the roof off the SLHB... he'd been dismayed at the lack of agility and grace of the great machine... maybe it would do just fine for a lumbering oaf like Cray, but his battlefield was the flashing razorfields of lightning hand to hand combat... this trealcy plodding was almost more than he could bear. Not to mention that his preternatural agility had always been his primary defence, and that was denied to him here... he felt exposed and vulnerable. Well, he did until he reviewed the defenses the Judgement came equipped with. The machine sported the same triple layering of phase shift armor that had first proved so effective on the Merciless, but that was only the fundamental layer of the defenses. Geischmeidig-panzer beam deflecting shield blisters were mounted four to each limb plus four more each on the front and rear torso and two on the head, all arrayed so their particle deflecting fields overlapped. While these shields, first pioneered on the Forbidden, would not provide complete immunity to beam based attacks, especially those fired from large warships, they would be more than enough to deal with most mobile suit weaponry.

As if those defenses weren't formidable enough, the Judgement was also equipped with a portable lightwave barrier generator Citadel array, much like the one the Merciless had, but of course far larger and even stronger. By trading away the Judgement's already limited maneuverability as well as the ability to return fire for a short time, Frost could weather even direct hits from strategic level weaponry with the Citadel array activated. He'd also been pleased to see that the Judgement was equipped with a Celerity system much like the one on his own Fury, though the increase in speed and maneuverability was dramatically less... when active the great lumbering brute was still less mobile than the Merciless at it's best, but at least it allowed for the possibility of tactical maneuvering. Not that the Judgement really needed to do all that much more than pivot and point to orient it's weapons systems... Frost was sure Cray was turning over in his grave somewhere with jealousy, given the firepower of the machine Frost now commanded. It had been more than sufficient to wipe out Panama without even progressing past the secondary weapon systems.

Dual 120mm gatling cannon turrets were mounted on the outside of each upper arm and upper leg, with fully three hundred sixty degree rotational capability for unidirectional focused fire. More than four hundred anti-vehicle missile launchers mounted in banks of forty pockmarked the lower back region, while the lower legs each contained three larger anti-ship missile silos. Missile and projectile interception 20mm CIWS guns sprouted like body hair from dozens of places all over the entirety of the machine in case he wanted to deny his enemies even the faintest of hopes of success by intercepting their weapons before they could impact the Judgement's armor. Upon each titanic shoulder crouched four semi-strategic multipurpose missile launchers, each equipped with a nuclear missile with three seventy five kiloton warheads inside. The two main weapon systems were mounted in the arms of the machine, with the left arm ending in a long stump instead of a hand, the stump consisted of six 75cm gottfried high energy beam cannons and their associated cooling and recoil compensation systems, the weapon system was codenamed Gottfried's Maul. The main gun of the Judgment, codenamed Ultimate Justice, was a semi-detachable rifle like weapon carried in the right hand, the weapon itself being a 300cm positron cannon similar to but more powerful than the Lohengrin cannons carried by the Archangel and Kusanagi. And if he really wanted to challenge his abilities, the Judgement had forty eight detachable "gun barrel" wire guided attack pods with twin beam cannons, ugraded versions of the same weapons that came standard on the Moebius Zero class of Mobile Armors.

Combined with the Fury and the small barge's worth of ammunition and replacement parts that he had stolen along with the Judgement after destroying the base, Frost had more than enough material resources to begin his purge of humanity. Now he just had to decide where he would begin. The Earth Alliance had been decapitated by his little kick off celebration, and from what few radio comms he could intercept, sitting way up in geosynch orbit, things were turning into an absolute clusterfuck down there, with both the military and the political adminstration running around like BCPU hopefuls with their arms torn off. Perhaps destroying the mass driver hadn't been necessary after all, but such was life... he couldn't very well undestroy it, could he? No... he'd leave the Alliance to stew for the moment... they'd still be there, proably still panicking, when he got done with the Coordinators. He hadn't come out of Earth nearly as close to the PLANTS as he'd wanted, but astronavigation had never been his strongest suit... he'd just loaded the mobile suits and cargo onto the driver, ensured there was enough power then hit the start button after setting the timer on the bombs. Given his present course he'd reach proximity to the PLANTS outer defense lines in a few days, assuming he was willing to merely drift and wait. Which he was. The desire to close to bloody battle and begin tearing the hearts of his enemies out by hand was strong, but the senseless killer part of him had relinquished much of it's control over his actions as of late. While it would be fun to give into his desires now, it would be far more rewarding to wait and let things mature a bit, then act when the situation was right.

Naturally, his enemies would eventually come for him, even if he did nothing. Since Cervantes was dead, Blue Cosmos would have to find a new leader, and Frost could not imagine anyone but that fool Sai Argyle taking over the job... he was far too well placed to let the opportunity pass him by, assuming he had even a quarter of the brains he must have had to trick Asmodeus. And even if the Natural did not realize it, sly little Ashino wouldn't, and apparently he was some sort of advisor to the Natural. Frost grinned savagely and spit in disgust... a BCPU, willingly subordinating himself to a Natural... it was against everything a BCPU should feel. They were monsters, slaves to their masters unwillingly... they should have nothing but hate in their hearts for those who created them. Ashino would learn the error of his ways, Frost promised this to himself. But now was not the time. His mind turned to other thoughts... Orb was doing a better than expected job of repairing itself from the destruction caused by Cray. His heart burned with regret, since he'd had both the princess of Orb and Pink herself nearly at his mercy once again, and once more they had slipped between his fingers, due to the intervention from the mechanically armed man, who was soothingly dead now. It wouldn't take Pink's horrid little boyfriend, Yamato and his equally despicable friend Zala long to figure out that Frost had not been killed at Panama and had indeed been the cause of the destruction. They would come after him, personally, like the knight's in shining armor they fancied themselves to be.

Frost was looking forward to that day... every time they had fought in the past he'd been limited, either by orders from his so called masters or because of losing control of his baser instincts... a visceral reaction that being around Pink tended to evoke in him. But now, now he was grasping his destiny firmly with both hands, and the golden illumination it enlightened him with provided a stopgap that made ironclad his control over his more bestial attitudes... he still desired nothing more than the utter ravaging of Pink and her friends, body, heart, mind and soul, but he was no longer willing to subvert his goals by flying into a foaming rage every time he encountered them. Foaming rages were a lot of fun, but they weren't getting the job done... he might be insane, but that did not prevent him from learning from past mistakes, oft repeated. He giggled to himself, relaxing in the mental picture of his long anticpated reacquintance with Pink and her friends... but most especially Pink. He well remembered the harm her nasty, terrible, wrenching songs had done him in Orb... he was betting that whatever allowed her to cause him such pain would provide an equal if not greater pleasure were he to conduct her emotions away from ugly love and horrifying forgiveness into the more soothing melodies of hatred and fear. And he knew exactly how he was going to accomplish that.

Had there been anything but empty space around the drifting masses that were the barge, the Fury and the Judgement, space itself might have seemed to grow a few degrees colder due to the maniacal hitching sounds of amusement that vibrated the cockpit sections of the Judgement's outer hull.


	83. Into Space

"Confirmed booster system connections. Interlocks A through G verified secure. Primary and secondary power connectors aligned and reading stable. Retest sat. Drawing power from Mass1's main power grid, time to full charge forty seconds and counting. All booster fuel is loaded. Ma'am, the Archangel has completed pre-launch systems tests and all departments are indicating green status. As soon as the ship finishes recharging, we will be ready to launch." One of the bridge officers, a lifelong Orb veteran, reported smartly to Murrue.

"Very well, Operations." Murrue acknowledged. _All this time and it still seems odd not having Natarle or Andrew feeding me status reports._ "Comms, what is the status of the Kusanagi?"

"The Kusanagi is still fueling their boosters and is about seventy percent of the way through their pre-launch checks, ma'am. They are still well within their timetable for their launch slot."

"Thank you, Comms. Give me a direct line to their CO, would you? Voice only."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

"This is Commander Waltfeld speaking, how may I help you, sir or ma'am?" the slightly harried voice of Waltfeld came out from her phone receiver.

"Timeliness is next to godliness, Andrew... what's wrong... you seem to be falling behind. The Archangel is already engaged in its pre-launch charging. I seem to recall you making several comments as to how you would show us how to really get a ship ready for a snap launch?" Murrue could not resist the temptation to tease, especially given his earlier boasting. It had been shortly after the executive meeting called by Cagalli and Lacus, which had been convened in response to new intelligence Andrew's own intelligence networks up in the PLANTS had uncovered. ZAFT was apparently done recuperating... they had been marshaling forces ever since Carpentaria and now looked to be the time of their next campaign. Military strategists agreed that their next target was likely the Lunar Fleet bases on the dark and light sides of the moon. With those facilities destroyed or captured, the war in space would be all but over, and ZAFT would have plenty of breathing room to reinforce themselves in order to make another bid at winning the ground war. It was much the same strategy as the desperate fights to destroy the Mass Drivers during the last war... if ZAFT could control space then they wouldn't have to worry about defending the PLANTS, and that would be an enormous advantage.

"Yeah... I kinda reckoned without this annoying phenomenon known as "Gravity"." Waltfeld replied breezily. "Don't get me wrong, mind... we could launch now... we'd probably even make it into space in one piece. Or several pieces, all closely co-located, but same difference. Might be a little bit of a rough ride for the people in the crew quarters and hangar bay... but you can't make ommelettes without breaking eggs."

"But, Andrew... you were a ground commander before you were a space commander? How could you forget about gravity?" Murrue held one hand to her mouth to stifle the chuckles. Loading supplies in space was far different than on Earth, since in space a single crewmember could do the work of ten or twenty people on earth merely because the huge supply crates had no weight. Once you started them moving all it took was braking thrust applied to get them to stop moving, no additional effort was required. On Earth of course, to move the same load you'd need a gang of workers if not heavy lifting and stacking equipment. "Does this mean that you owe not only me, but everyone at the meeting a year's supply of coffee?"

"I'm beginning to think I was set up." Waltfeld rejoined, the smile in his voice evident. "But I guess you're right... remind me again when I get some free time... it'll take a while for just my little office grinder to make even a weeks supply."

"Maybe now then? It's not like you're going to be starting your countdown until you're ready, and by the looks of things you've got a good thirty minutes before that happens."

"Har-de har har. I am so amused. Can you tell?" he replied. "If you'll excuse me, maybe I should be taking a more active role in preparing my ship, rather than jawing with such a glorious and fast preparing commander as yourself. Waltfeld out."

Murrue hung up her phone and could not contain her own smile. Despite the near certain danger they would be facing in the next few days, Waltfeld remained his usual laid back self. Never mind the fact that he was commanding a ship he'd barely even been on before, while also recuperating from the attachment surgery that he had at last permitted to allow the replacement of his amputated right arm. She knew he'd been extremely conflicted about utilizing the arm of Vladimir, especially given the apparent history between the two men, but after much debilitation and soul searching he'd decided to go ahead with the procedure, reasoning publicly afterwards that it had been too long since he was able to throw a proper salute. She felt a certain bit of fondness for the former ZAFT commander... though at one point in time they had been enemies, now they were close friends. Maybe as much as kindred souls... both of them had lost people extremely close to their hearts during the last war and both had experienced the betrayal from their respective chains of command... they were more alike than not. Murrue felt a part of her that she had thought slain by tragedy tenatively awake again... certainly, Andrew was an admirable man in a lot of ways, and not unattractive, for all his scars. She pushed the thoughts away... now was not the time... maybe after the war, if there ever was such a time, then she could explore that avenue of thought. But for now... she'd not lose another part of her heart to this hellish conflict.

An amber light blinked on the arm of her command chair, indicating an incoming shipboard call. "This is Captain Ramius." she said, slipping back into command mode as she picked up the phone. She listened to the voice on the other end for a few moments. "I understand... yes, thank you, Mr. Majesty." she hung up and pondered for a few moments. Then she stood, immediately quieting the bridge as her crew turned to look at her in anticipation. "All crew and passengers are aboard." She announced. "We have been given the all clear by the Mass1 control tower and we will be launching shortly. Before we do, I'd like to say a few words." Murrue activated the 1MC, the shipwide speaker system and paused, gathering her thoughts.

"Crew and passengers of the Archangel, this is Captain Murrue Ramius. I am speaking to you as we sit, ready to once more launch ourselves into space and into potentialy deadly conflict. Before we do though, I want to confide in you all some thoughts. First, I must extend to each and every one of you my utmost respect and admiration, as each of you is a volunteer, a dedicated proponent of the ideals of peace we all believe in. It truly is one of the greatest honors of my life to be serving as your captain, and there is no other crew I'd want to be with more during the upcoming trials. Thank you... all of you. With that said, now I'd like to briefly overview the reasons behind this deployment. Many of you have read the official mission statement, but I'd like to explain a bit of the reasoning behind the orders." Murrue paused for breath.

"We are heading into space not as a peacekeeping force. Peace has to be established before it can be kept, and it has not been established. Our stated mission goal is to negotiate a cease fire between ZAFT and the EA forces, hopefully extending that cease fire into a long lasting peace agreement. I won't lie to you... most likely neither side will want to enter negotiations with us, much less each other. Thus, as much as it pains many of us, our orders will allow us to force a cease fire onto the warring factions in a manner such as we see fit. In practical terms this means we are now officially a third side in this war, opposed to both of the other two. We can expect neither remorse nor reprieve from the EA or ZAFT, but we must persevere...if we cannot accomplish our goals, then the future of the human race, Coordinators and Naturals together, will be bleak indeed." Murrue paused again, to let that sink in. They were quite literally perhaps humanity's last hope for peaceful coexistance and forward progress.

"Our intelligence indicates that ZAFT has completed it's post-Carpentaria build up and is even now gathering its forces for an all out invasion of the Moon. This will be a larger battle than any but Carpentaria, easily equivalent to the battle of JOSH-A. The EA has been surprisingly inactive ever since the destruction of Panama, but the defenses of the Moon cannot be understated... it has been a military installation for decades, the original jumping off point for all subsequent colonization of space. If we sit back and do nothing, if we allow this battle to play out to whatever it's conclusion will be without attempting to intervene and let our ideals be known... there very well could no longer be a Moon afterwards." Murrue let the line go silent as people thought about that horror. "This will be a battle that will test all of us, mind, body and soul. ZAFT is fighting for what is probably it's one chance at ensuring ultimate victory, while the EA is fighting for exactly the same thing... if they can repulse this strike, if they can hold off this attack, ZAFT will be broken and incapable of retaliating for at least two or three years... time in which the EA will become so strong as to be invincible. We can expect to be confronted by the cream of both militaries... their best pilots, their best soldiers, their best machines, in an all out, no holds barred conflict. WMD's will be only one of many threats we will have to be on the lookout for... in space a single mobile suit can be a WMD, if it attacks the wrong place. I expect nothing but the best from all of you, and I know I won't be disappointed. Thank you for your time, we will be launching shortly."

Murrue sat and looked at the bridge crew. "If everything is in order, let us be about our task. Comms, signal control that we are taking off. Weapons, commence charging and aiming of the Lohengrin. Helm, take us out nice and steady. Operations, make sure we are ready for an instant combat deployment the moment we reach orbit... I don't expect trouble this close to Earth, but it never hurts to be cautious. As soon as we break out of the Ionosphere, call all hands to battle stations. As soon as the Kusanagi joins us we'll make flank speed towards the rendevous point with the Eternal." Murrue barked out the orders rapid fire and bridge crew jumped to enact them. She felt the entire ship tremble as the engines ignited and slowly began lifting the ship up and out of its water filled launch cradle. Her hand went to the locket around her neck... _I'm coming back to visit, Mu. I just hope I never have to feel that way ever again..._

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"I still don't see why I have to stay here. I can appoint someone to take my place, I have that power." Cagalli argued vehemently, standing on the Orb side of the gangplank that led into the Kusanagi. Standing with her were Colonel Kisaka and Athrun, as well as several Orb Royal Guardsmen, who were her appointed bodyguard. She was currently ignoring Kisaka and the guards and was speaking only to Athrun, who had a pained expression on his face.

"We've been through this before, Cagalli." Athrun said in exasperation. "Ever since Purgatory Day, when you voluntarily took up the leadership of Orb once again, this moment has been coming. You are the Chief Representative of Orb, and that means you have a duty and a responsibility to your nation and your people. Sometimes that means fighting for them or leading them in battle. Right now it means protecting them and guiding them in their recovery, both from Purgatory Day and from the opressive regime they suffered under before."

"I KNOW that!" Cagalli retorted, bad temperedly, striking him not so softly on the chest with a clenched fist. "That doesn't mean I want to know it. Or that I have to accept it. There's still plenty of time before the Kusanagi launches to get the Rubicon on board... I'm going, Athrun and thats fina..."

"No, you aren't." Athrun interrupted her, arms folded across his chest dispassionately. "Listen to me, Cagalli... this isn't any easier for me than it is for you. You think I want to leave? That I want to go back up into space, into battle, where I'll probably end up killing not only EA soldiers, but most likely former comrades from ZAFT? You know that's not the case. There is nowhere... NOWHERE... I'd rather be than by your side. But as much as I want to stay here, my own duty and responsibilities forbid it. Orb is as safe as it can get, militarily speaking, especially with the EA apparently in disarray after Panama. My presence here with the Righteous would be superfluous, while I can really make a difference up in space. You on the other hand... you can make the greatest difference here in Orb, remaking your nation into the great power it once was, reconstructing it back into the dream it was under your father's rule."

"Hey, I outrank you! You work for me! I don't have to let you go... I can... I..." Cagalli snarled, pounding on his chest again.

"You can buck up and stop being a baby about it." Athrun retorted, catching her flailing fists in his own hands. "Right now you aren't acting like anything but a spoiled brat that's having a toy taken away." He noticed the shocked expression on her face. "You may be the national leader, Cagalli, but your last name is Zala now, by your own desire, no matter what the public believes. I'm your husband... and in that capacity I am not outranked by you and I definitely don't work for you... we work together. You do have to let me go Cagalli... this time you do. It's not a pleasant truth for either of us, but that's what spouses are for, getting the unpleasant things said that other people are afraid to say. So please, for me if not for the nation, please stay here and do what you do best here."

"And what do I do best?" She mumbled, bowing her head forward to lean against him, tucking her head up under his chin until she couldn't see anything but his red ZAFT flight uniform. "Besides complain and whine and make embarassing scenes for you?"

"You lead." Athrun replied softly. "You show people the good things in them and in life, even when they themselves either cannot or will not look for them. You make an impression on people that makes them want to follow you, to believe in you and support your ideals. You make the decisions, even the hard ones no one else wants to make and you stick by them through thick and thin. People admire and love you just because you are who you are and I'm not talking about just on a personal basis... walk outside on the streets of Orb sometime and see what happens. I don't think you'd need guards, because the entire nation is your guard, Cagalli, because they all love you."

"You make it damned hard to argue." Cagalli muttered, freeing her fists from his hands with slight tugs and wrapping him in a tight embrace. "I'm going to get you for that, eventually. And oh, how you'll pay for every last second of time that your logical arguments have kept us seperate. Maybe I'm being spoiled and possessive or even obsessive. I don't give a damn. I'm on fire, Athrun, and you're the only thing that can keep me banked these days. Maybe it's the stress, maybe it's the realization that I really am a world leader, maybe it's something I can't quite put words to... whatever it is... please, please come back to me soon Athrun. Before I go crazy and do something stupid."

"Now, now, don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you'll manage just fine without me... you'll probably barely even notice I'm gon..."

"Don't finish that sentence." Cagalli advised him, the heat in her voice practically charring his shirt. "Don't you even dare to begin to think that I'll be just fine without you. I have every confidence in myself, but I... WILL... NOT... BE... FINE!" she punctuated every word with a sharp hug and finally turned her face up to meet his. "You aren't even gone and I miss you. And tonight is going to be hell itself. Not to mention what tomorrow night will be like. And it's only going to get worse each night."

"Maybe it is a good thing that I'll be going away for a while." Athrun said, surprising her. "Don't get me wrong, my nights are going to be lonely too. But I am not a drug, Cagalli... and you sound like you're becoming addicted. There is never going to be anyone more important to me than you, but I don't require your presence every waking and unconscious moment to retain my equilibrium. Neither should you, in return."

"But Athru..." Athrun stopped her with a finger on her lips. He raised his gaze and cleared his throat, looking at Kisaka and the Orb soldiers.

"Pardon, but could Cagalli and I have five minutes of privacy?" Athrun didn't phrase it like a request. Kisaka didn't take it like one... Cagalli had always had problems with difficult partings... she'd had to be manhandled aboard the Kusanagi last time it launched from Orb.

"You have five minutes." Kisaka acknowledged, herding away the disgruntled looking bodyguard team, who decidedly did not like the idea of being seperated from their charge. One look at Kisaka's stone cold face was more than enough to pre-empt any sort of argument... the Colonel looked even less pleased than they were, though there also might have been a hint of satisfaction glinting in his eyes.

As soon as the soldiers were out of earshot, Athrun removed his finger. "Listen to me very carefully, Cagalli. I love you very much, but I am not an object and frankly I'm finding your clinginess to be rather off putting right at the moment." She started to open her mouth to protest and he clamped his hand over it to silence her. "Right now I'm speaking as Athrun Zala, former soldier of ZAFT, pilot of the Righteous and no-one else. This is not your friend, this is not your husband, this is not your subordinate. This act of yours is not cute, it is not endearing and it's frankly not the Cagalli I fell in love with. Right now you aren't the person who saved my life at GENESIS, you aren't the person who I fought beside for all these months, you aren't the person whom I fuck every damned night of the week!" His voice was quiet but extremely intense. "And until you become that person again, Cagalli, you and I are going to have communication difficulties." He noticed her wide eyes, which was good, he was hoping the shock treatment would get through to the real her. "And you can toss the sex completely out the window until you grow up and become the Cagalli I know you can be... even when I do come back, we won't be sleeping together unless you can convince me that this fawning little girl side of you really has gone away for good. That's deprivation for me too, because frankly you're hotter than wildfire in bed, but I got hands and I'll use 'em to relieve the pressure if I have to."

"Abrun!" she tried to shout, but his hand muffled her well.

"I'm still lecturing you, Cagalli, so please be quiet." He replied. She bit one of his fingers in response, which drew nothing but a slight smile from him, much to her constrenation. "There, that's a bit more like the Cagalli I know and love. I want her back, the girl who tried to kill me on that island, the one who stole my gun while I was sleeping, the one who held a gun to my head even while I was half dead in a hospital bed. I want the girl who goes her own way and does her own thing, who fights for her country because it's her own damned country, who is willing to do what it takes to bring peace to the world and convince people that killing is not the solution but the cause. Do you think you could find her for me, while I'm away?" He barely moved his foot out of the way in time to prevent it getting stomped on as she started to struggle in his arms. "Now, with that said..." he released her mouth and leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his own. It wasn't a nice kiss, but it communicated how he felt better than any words could... desire, love, concern, resolve... his eyes locked with hers and would not let go. She fought him the entire time, which he took to be a good sign... if she'd relaxed and enjoyed it it would have meant she hadn't been listening to a word he'd said. It hadn't been particularly fun, forcing himself to take such a tone with her, but it had been necessary. At long last, almost a minute later, he released her from his gaze, his lips and his arms.

The smack of skin on skin was just barely audible to Kisaka and the guards where they lounged around the Representatives limousine about fifty yards away. Athrun didn't reach up to touch his stinging cheek, he just smiled slightly and reached down to pick up his duffel bag. Cagalli stood in front of him, quivering with rage, her fists clenched at her sides and a look of death in her eyes. Athrun tasted copper in his mouth and figured he must have cut either his lip or gums on her teeth during the kiss, since the slap, while heartfelt, hadn't been delievered with nearly enough force to do more than turn his head slightly. Athrun hefted his bag and saluted Cagalli sharpely, coming to perfect attention. "Thank you, Ma'am and I'll be taking my leave now." he said dispassionately. She didn't reply, or salute him back, but neither did she protest, which he took to be all he was going to get right now. Without any further words between them he turned around and walked off across the gangplank to the ship. When he sneaked a glance over his shoulder when he reached the Kusanagi's hatch, she was already gone, her limo just pulling away from the curb. He smiled, since to do anything else would probably bring on tears... that hadn't been how he'd wanted the parting to go.

"Looks like someone had a bit of a lover's tiff?" Ysak commented, leaning up against the interior passageway bulkhead just to the left of the hatch. Athrun stiffened for a moment and Ysak prepared to defend himself against a punch, but nothing came of it... within seconds Athrun had returned to his usual calm self.

"Something like that. We had to get a few things straight between us." Athrun replied, not bothering to turn and look at Ysak. "How much did you see?"

"Enough to figure that you'd better invest in a good couch."

Athrun grunted a small laugh. "Well, not that I have anything to hide or whatnot, but if you could avoid mentioning our little spat to Kira...?"

"He's not precisely rational when it comes to either Lacus or Cagalli, yeah, I know." Ysak sighed. "I'd get a better handle on yourself before you go aboard the Archangel though... Katie doesn't care one way or the other what goes on between you and Cagalli, but if Lacus were to pick up on your feelings right now... well, she'd probably feel obliged to do something about it."

"Thanks, I'll remember that. And just in case you were wondering... I started it, got it?"

"No business of mine." Ysak replied. "I'd sooner jump naked into a pit of vipers than stick my nose into other people's relationships... especially celebrity relationships." He was going to say more but then he flinched slightly and his eyes unfocused for a moment. "Yes... yes, I'll tell him, though I'd imagine he's no stranger to that. Go away, speculate later. Damn it." Ysak refocused on the here and now. "Katie wants me to tell you that if you're going to be dragging a bunch of angst and misery aboard our ship with you, that you'd better be prepared to take tranqulizers when you sleep, unless you want to find out what it's like to get beaten to a pulp by a Natural girl. I told her that you probably knew all about getting beaten up by girls, and she gave me a few unhelpful images I could have gone my whole life without seeing concerning just how used you were to it."

"She likes red lingerie, because it doesn't show the blood." Athrun commented, fighting for a straight face. It was tough, seeing the totally shocked and repulsed expression on Ysak's face. "I'm kidding."

"I'd hope so... goddamn it, man, don't say fucked up things like tha..."

"She likes white, because it shows all the blood." Athrun finished, stepping away and around the corner, chuckling at the twisted expression on Ysak's face, his humor already much restored. Of course, it was all just poking fun at Ysak and his misconceptions... pain wasn't a turn on for either Cagalli or Athrun, and hopefully never would be.

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"Well, here we go again, off to space." Dearka commented to the mostly empty pilot's ready room of the Archangel. In addition to himself and Miriallia with the Grand Buster, the Archangel also carried the Liberty with Kira along of course, along with Lacus. There was also Alkire and the other two remaining members of TEMPEST, plus a large continegent of Orb soldiers who would serve as marines in case they ever needed to, for some reason, occupy an enemy installation. In addition to the two Gundams, the Archangel also carried four M4-Guardian mobile suits, with attendant pilots and crew, which was the reason the room was only mostly empty. The Kusanagi, which was launching after them, carried the Righteous and the Duelist plus Athrun and Ysak and Katie, along with ten more M4's and crew. Once both ships were in space, they would be rendevousing with the Eternal, which was being recovered from its distant safe harbor even as they were taking off. The Eternal of course had the twin METEOR units for the Righteous and Liberty, and was additionally supposed to be carrying at least a teams worth of Clyne Faction mobile suits, most likely slightly dated Guaizes, but it was far better than nothing. Quite the force when you put it all together... certainly better than then last time the Three Ship Alliance had gotten together... though of course now they were the official Orb 1st space fleet.

"Back home for you, isn't it?" one of the Orb pilots asked, quite innocently. Dearka let a ball of sadness settle into his gut a bit before replying.

"Somewhat. I'm not exactly popular with the ZAFT high command right now... they tried to recall me right after Pearl Harbor and I told them to fuck off. Even before I first joined the Archangel though, the PLANTS were never really home for me... not since I joined ZAFT. My family had a lot of... issues... with me being a soldier."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry at old scabs." the Orb soldier, who was several years older than Dearka, apologized. Dearka shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it. I generally don't. My home is Orb now, and that's because I chose it. Visiting Aprilus or ZAFT HQ would be nice, but I frankly don't see either as being too likely, not unless we get a lot luckier than we have any right to be."

"You don't think miss Lacus will be able to get both sides to agree to a cease fire?" the pilot asked, coming over to sit across from Dearka.

"Don't get me wrong, if anyone can do it, Lacus Clyne is the person who will." Dearka answered. "I'm just wallowing in a little bit of fatalism... given my experiences with both sides so far in this war, I just cannot see them holding up a major battle just because someone... even Lacus Clyne... asked them to. For one, even if she's practically divinity to the civilians and most of the military in the PLANTS, she's just a Coordinator girl with a voice to most of the EA. For another, with the EA currently staggering around like a drunk who's been sapped with a brick, ZAFT is never going to have a better shot at practically winning the war in one stroke... they're not going to want to delay for peace talks... time is on the side of the EA, the more time is "wasted" in talks the more time they have to reinforce and prepare."

"Well, thats where we come in, isn't it?" the pilot reasoned. "If they don't want to listen to her, its our job to rough them up until they do listen to her."

"You make it sound easy." Dearka said with a slight smile. "Sure, we've got the Archangel, the Kusanagi and the Eternal... sure, we've got people like Athrun Zala and Kira Yamato, not to mention myself and Ysak... but we're talking about the combined might of both the ZAFT space forces and the EA space forces. We can field three battleships and a little less than thirty mobile suits, plus what amounts to a reinforced company of heavy infantry. If we equal a tenth of but one side, EA or ZAFT, we'll be very fortunate. Now, we've got a lot of extraordinarily skilled people and some of the best technology around... but numbers do play a part."

"The Representative wouldn't send us out on a hopeless mission. She has confidence in us and so then do I. I've fought long odds before and triumphed and I know you have as well, Mr. Elsman. So the battle is bigger... so the odds are against us... so the fate of the world hangs in the balance... I feel the stress, same as you or anyone else, but there are people counting on us... not just Lady Cagalli and my wife and kids back home, but the rest of the free and peaceful world as well. If we don't do this, nobody will... frankly, I don't see any possible way out of this but success, with that kind of motivation, do you?"

"Not when you put it like that." Dearka said with a bigger smile. "Name's Dearka Elsman, pilot of the Grand Buster. Good to meet you...?"

"First Lieutenant William T. Frost. Likewise." the man replied. "I'm the junior pilot of the Orb 31st Mobile Unit, which was assigned to the Archangel by the Representative herself due to our exemplary performance during the Battle of Carpentaria... I took the place of Captain Lain Debora, who..."

"Wait-a-minute... you said your name was Frost?" Dearka twitched a little just saying the name. The Orb pilot paused, wondering at the tremor that had gone through the voice of the younger Coordinator when he asked for confirmation about his name.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm Bill Frost. Why? Don't think we've ever met before."

It had to be a coincidence. Frost was not a unique name, there was bound to be other people with that name living around the world and even up in the PLANTS. Still... there was always the chance... Dearka thought back to a memory he'd rather not have, of being strapped to a surgical table deep in an underground lab, while a mad scientist cackled and demonstrated his skills at memory supression by having a subject look at pictures of his own family without recognizing them. If it had happened to Ashino than it was more than certain it would have happened to Frost... might this actually be a member of that bastards family? What should he say though... what could he say? _Hi... your kid brother is the most insane, psychopathic killer I've ever seen. Are you like him? No... that won't work. I don't even know if he has a brother._ "Uhm... bear with me, though this might seem a little odd... but do you have any family... siblings I mean?"

Bill leaned back, noting the hesitancy with which Dearka spoke. Clearly something was troubling the elite pilot... though what exactly was beyond him. He shrugged slightly... he'd already pried into Dearka's life a bit with his first question and it wasn't like he was ashamed of anything or anyone in his family. "Sure I do. My older brother, Sean and my younger sister Eryn, who are both Civil Engineers in the OSDF (Orb Self Defense Forces). They're working to help rebuild the city after... well, you know better than me. I was a Civil Engineer as well, but I got tapped for the Mobile Units because I'm a Coordinator and I have at least some aptitude for it."

"Yeah... I don't ever want to fight anywhere near a city again for the rest of my life." Dearka said with feeling. "Sorry to pry, but I've encountered someone with your last name before... an enemy. A really bad one. A total nutjob... really, I hope he's dead though I seriously doubt it... little fucker is just about impossible to do in, from what I've seen."

"Nope, no one in my family that meets that kind of description. My parents are dead and so is my youngest brother, have been for years now and I'm the only one in the family with any sort of combat skills. And I know we haven't fought before, since I'm still alive... don't get me wrong, I'm pretty dang good, but I'm not at the level of a ZAFT red coat, much less one with as much experience as you." Bill thought for a moment. "What was this blokes name, anyway?"

"Zacharis. Zacharis Frost." Dearka replied. "I cannot stress enough how much of a head case this little fuc..." Dearka trailed off, seeing the tortured expression on Bill's face. "What?"

"Zacharis... Quentin... Frost?" Bill asked slowly. Dearka nodded equally slowly...he remembered Ashino saying that was Frost's full name, back in JIHAD. The two Coordinators looked at each other for several moments.

"I think you and I need to go talk with some people..." Dearka started to rise.

"He's alive?" Bill asked fiercely. Dearka paused, considering how he was going to break it to this guy that his kid brother... really wasn't his kid brother anymore. Wasn't even human, in some respects. Dearka swallowed loudly.

"Yes. I've not seen his dead body, and until I do I would never be so stupid as to assume he's dead. Before you jump all over me though... theres some stuff you need to know about your little brother..."

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Sai straightened his tie, his fingers running over the cerulean blue silk tie, with its tie clip showing the grey wall with the blue Earth rampant above it. Satisified that it was hanging straight, he gave himself another once over... his black suit was spotless, as were the likewise black trousers and gleaming white shirt. His trademark orange tinted sunglasses were clipped to one breast pocket in place of the usual hankerchief, and his hair was slicked back into a much more refined and constrained look than the usual half tousel headed style he preferred. But tonight was not his night... it was the world's night and so he had to dress to meet the world's expectations. It had been a frantic scramble to get everything in place for this speech and the momentous events it signaled, but through efforts he could only describe as superhuman, his staff had pulled it off. The Isolationists had done it... they were victorious. Or so nearly so that it hardly mattered. Here he was, mere minutes away from taking into his sweating and admittedly trembling hands the reins for the future of all of Natural Humanity. He let his true feelings run rampant across his face for the moment, because soon he'd have to supress all of them but the calm and well centered man in control, which was really only a small part of what he was.

"Don't be nervous, sir. You've had this coming to you ever since you challenged Cervantes in Panama. This is your moment... you should treasure it." Cyprus said, with what might have been a smile. Or at least an attempt at one... smiles did not naturally cross Cyprus Finch's face. The new de facto leader of the combined military forces of the OMNI Enforcer treaty... the Earth Alliance in common slang... didn't look the part. He wasn't wearing his dress uniform of whites, golds and reds, with the admittedly large number of citations and medals he'd earned. He didn't have long rows of stars pinned to his lapels, as any commander in chief normally would, to denote their seniority. He was dressed in a very clean and well pressed version of the Hellhound BDU's, resplendent in its black, dark grey and orange camouflage pattern. His mask was worn up on top of his head and he was fully armed and armored, weighed down with nearly seventy pounds of combat gear...spotlessly clean and exceptionally well maintained combat gear... but combat gear nonetheless. The twin silver bars of a Lieutenant in the Special Forces gleamed on either side of his collar lapels.

"My moment came back in Hawaii, when Asmodeus surrendered. This is just the rest of the world catching up to that fact." Sai replied. A thoughtful look crossed his face for a moment. "It's hardly the time or place, but have we found out what happened to him yet? From what I read in the report we got from the Panama inspection teams, his body wasn't among the slain. They couldn't even find blood or other DNA evidence that he'd even been there at all."

"Nothing definite, but if I know Asmodeus at all... even with the changes that have come over him of late, he probably broke and ran for it after Frost carved a path out through the soldiers. I'd say he's probably marshaling the real core of the Puritans in some hidden fastness right now... it's what I'd have done if things went the other way... gather an elite group and start striking back at the victorious party. We haven't seen the last of him, you can be sure of that... and when he does choose to reveal himself again, you can bet he'll be twice as dangerous as he was before... he's not going to forget or forgive being tricked by you in Hawaii." Cyprus replied.

"At least we can probably say for sure that he's no longer working with Frost. I cannot fathom why Frost spared his life... none of us ever had that much regard for Asmodeus, even me... but even though he apprently did, I just cannot see them working together." Ashino added. For this ceremony Ashino was likewise dressed in a manner that would doubtless seem strange to mose observers. As the commander of all of the EA mobile suit forces, one would expect him to be again bedecked in medals and ribbons and other badges of seniority. Instead he wore a simple pilot suit, mostly white with blue shoulders and dark greay stripes down the outside of the legs. It looked a hell of a lot like the flight suit Kira used to wear, to Sai's eyes. Ashino didn't even have rank insignia of any sort on his flight suit, while a pistol was holstered at his side and his knife sheathed across his back. In truth Ashino was a little nervous as well, though he did not tremble. It helped that since Sai had assumed de-facto control over all of Blue Cosmos and most of the rest of the EA command structures already... the speech just being an announcement of that fact, not the start of the process... that they'd been able to find a lab to produce a supply of Gamma Glipheptim for him. He was now fully stocked up again, and the difference in his performance was gratifying... no longer did he feel like collapsing after any sort of prolonged activity.

"We're tracking him, right?" Sai asked, starting to put his game face on... there were only three minutes left until the big moment.

"Yes, I've already despatched a recon fleet as well." Cyprus said with a wolfish tint to his voice. The higher ups... the remaining higher ups, that is... in space command sure hadn't liked getting orders from him, a mere lieutenant. But he was the only one giving coherent orders and with more than half their forces already listening to him, there wasn't much they could do. He'd been surprised how easy the military had been to swing over... he'd barely had to give one or two audiences and people were jumping over to the Isolation banner in droves. Maybe it was because he'd spoken directly to the grunt level soldiers, not letting his words trickle down through the filters of the chain of command. Sai told him it was just because he was a natural leader of men, but Cyprus had glossed that over... he wasn't going to let his boss trick him into accepting a promotion, people had tried that before. Bad enough that he was giving orders to an entire military, he would NOT deal with people saluting him and calling him "general". "They have orders to shadow the Judgement and the Fury and report if they make any sudden movements. They are to engage only if attacked, and to run if possible... which should be an easy choice since they know they lack the firepower to defeat even a single team of ZAFT mobile suits, much less the Judgement."

"Our course projections put him as crossing the outer lines of the PLANTS defenses in a little more than a day. Whether or not that's intentional on his part is anyone's guess." Ashino added. He was about to say more when an aide opened the door and bustled up to Cyprus, handing him a piece of paper and whispering a few urgent sounding words into his ear, too low for even Ashino to pick up. Sai and Ashino looked expectantly at Cyprus after the aide had left.

"The Archangel and the Kusanagi have launched from Orb on orbital trajectories. Our few remaining sources of military intelligence in Orb haven't been able to get us much, other than the fact that Cagalli Yula Attha has remained behind as Chief Representative. The whereabouts of any other principle parties are unknown, though if I had to guess, I'd say they were aboard one of those two ships."

"If Lacus Clyne wants to try and stop a battle between ZAFT and us, I'm not about to stop her." Sai said with a laugh. "Frankly, the more time she wastes distracting everyone up in space, the easier my job will be. And after she's exhausted both her words and Kira's strength trying to prevent a battle neither side can afford to call off, then we'll offer our cease fire to the PLANTS and we won't have to worry about their meddling. As for Cagalli... well, shes going to cause problems... thats what she does best. But Orb is still barely even a country right now... if they know what's good for them they'll be keeping their heads down while they rebuild, at least for the meanwhile."

"Sir, you've got thirty seconds until its time." One of the new government aides called into the room.

"I understand." Sai called back. He looked at his two friends one more time. "The fate of an entire world rests on our shoulders, my friends. Frankly, I'm glad, because I don't know of any two people I'd rather be sharing this burden with. May we carry it well and briefly. I want to be a father much more than I want to be a leader."

"We've got your back sir, just like you've got ours." Cyprus acknowledged.

"This is my world too... you were the one who showed that to me. I won't do anything to disappoint your trust." Ashino replied.

"Ten seconds!" the aide shouted. Sai started making his way towards the doorway leading to the briefing room deep underneath the street level of the Governers mansion in New New York, which was where the old Atlantic Federation and hence EA government had moved to after Washington DC was destroyed. Cyprus and Ashino fell in behind him and the three walked through the double doors of the so called "ready room" directly into the spotlights of a huge underground auditorium, formerly used for large scale meetings of state legislature before being pre-empted for use by world legislature. Right now the auditorium was packed to the brim not only with the remaining political figures of the EA, but hundreds of Isolation authority figures and an equal number of reporters. A far off gallery was overflowing with civilian witnesses and spectators, while thousands more crowded the parks and squares of the city above, paying careful attention to huge building mounted TV screens. The people of the world had been told a momentous announcement was forthcoming, but none of them knew exactly what that meant. The crowd in the auditorium erupted in cheers and applause when Sai became visible, and the adulation did not die down even when he reached his podium, flanked to either side by Ashino and Cyprus.

Sai waited and let the crowd work out a little of their feeling... it would help them feel better and he had to admit, the way it was making him feel wasn't all that bad either. He saw Vanai, her stomach huge with the twins inside her, weeks from the predicted birth, sitting in the front row, her yellow eyes flashing like gold coins as she looked at him with pride and devotion, her wild flaming red hair falling down her shoulders like a river of magma. He gave her a special smile, a smile of connection, of gratitude for all that she had done for him that had allowed him to come to this point in his life. His children... Matthias and Jessi... were going to be born and grow up in the kind of world they should... one free of war and strife and inequality. And it was because he'd chosen to make a stand... yeah, that was a good feeling. The cheering didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon, so he held up his hands for silence, which, slowly and reluctantly, he got.

"Thank you... all of you, for that kind and heartwarming welcome. Truly I am blessed with friends, family and citizens like yourselves. I am sure I will be hard pressed living up to the larger than life image of me people will no doubt be expecting, but if that is my only difficulty during my hopefully short tenure as a world leader then I will be blessed beyond any reasonable expectation. People of the world, I am speaking to you on this day not only as a fellow concerned citizen but as a man who, through both will and circumstance, has stepped up to make a difference in the world. Still, I did little more than become a figurehead for you, the people of the world, so that you could express your views to the people formerly governing this regrettable war. It is a capacity I am glad to fufill... I do not wish to be world leader for the power it grants me... I much prefer being a father, which hopefully, by the grace of god, I will be soon... but rather I am glad because as world leader I can do my best to ensure that not only my own children, but everyone's children, can grow up and live in a world without strife and conflict and genocide and war." Sai paused for a moment, as if he wasn't giving a rehearsed speech.

"I... like most of you, want nothing more than for this costly and bloody and pointless war to end. I have nothing against Coordinators..." Sai let the hubbub over that rise up and then fade. "Yes, you heard right, I don't hate Coordinators and here I am, leader of Blue Cosmos. But the Isolationists are NOT the old Blue Cosmos. Coordinators are admirable people... like us they range from the likable to the despicable, beautiful to ugly, reasonable to fanatical... they're just people, like everyone else. Yes, they live longer... yes, they don't get sick as much... yes, they have greater mental and physical capacity... but that does not, in any way make them better. Look around the room... I'm sure you'll find someone there who will live longer than you, doesn't get sick as much and is smarter or stronger. Does that mean they are better than you? Of course not. As one of my... friends... a Coordinator, once said to me... "sure, I can do all of that, but theres things you can do that I cannot." I was floored at the time, because before I'd been a prisoner of the same illogic as has formerly gripped a great many people... that just because my friend was a Coordinator made him inherently better in all ways than me. This is patently not true. Another thing this friend of mine said also has bearing on this situation... "people are not defined by their abilities alone." Truer words have never been spoken." Sai paused again, letting his words sink in.

"People are not defined by abilities... people are not defined by any one set of characteristics, I feel. You have to take a person as a whole before you can understand them. Now, don't get me wrong... some people, when taken as a individual, are bad... people like my recently deceased father in law, Cervantes Zunnichi or the much reviled Patrick Zala of ZAFT. But just because Cervantes was genocidal and filled with hate, does that mean that all Naturals are? No. The same for Patrick Zala... do all Coordinators want to destroy the world? Of course not. Coordinators are just like us... everyday people, working at their jobs, raising their families, going about the process of living. We should not hate them for their differences, but rather respect them for their strengths. Much as they should return that respect likewise. But what strengths do we have, you ask? What do we have compared to their longevity, their intelligence and strength and immunity to disease? I'll tell you what we have... we have stability. Security. We have an entire world of our own to live on." Sai saw people in the audience looking introspective... good he'd opened up at least a few of them to a new perspective... that was a victory of note right there.

"Coordinators... they seem like a dream come true to us Naturals, don't they? Stronger, faster, smarter, more beautiful, longer living... we never stop to think about the price they pay for their existance. We don't think about the fact that one in five of all second generation Coordinators is sterile and unable to produce children. Or that the same thing applies to third generation Coordinators, but at the rate of one in three. The few fourth gens are even worse off... fully half cannot produce children. Can you see where this trend is going? Yes, they pass along their superior mental and physical abilities and immune systems to their children, but at what cost? At seventh generation, scientists predict that they will be unable to reproduce on their own... and artificial womb technology is so hideously expensive as to be impractical. Maybe it won't always be so, but by the time the technology is commercialized decades will have passed. Decades with an extremely low if not nonexistant birth rate. If the war continues to be as big a drain on their population as it has been so far, they are looking at the very real possibility of dying out. This is not news to them... they are after all, smarter than many of us. They are riding the razors edge of disaster far more than we are by pursuing this war. So, why then are they pursuing this war, when clearly it isn't to their long term advantage?" Sai let the room hang on his next words.

"Because we tried to destroy them. It is our fault. The war is our fault." There were gasps throughout the room. Sai held up one hand and fixed a pained expression on his face. "No, don't get me wrong... the war may be our fault, but they are not guiltless... not lightly can events such as the invasion of Panama or the destruction of Ptolmiaus crater be forgotten. But none of us should ever forget the Bloody Valentine Tragedy. Or the more recent debacle of Carpentaria. Or Purgatory Day. Is it any wonder that they fight us, when they look at our actions and see nothing but hatred and death? I'd fight back pretty hard too, if I was confronted with extinction at the hands of madmen. All they wanted was to be free of the admittedly harsh economic restrictions placed upon them by their parent countries, who insisted upon using them like the resource satellites they weren't. They wanted to grow their own food, live their own lives, believe their own beliefs, set their own taxes and write their own publicly accepted laws. None of those are unreasonable desires in my book... every successful nation throughout history has desired them. They wanted independence. And what did we give them when they asked us for it? A massacre. We nuked a helpless agricultural colony with hundreds of thousands of civilians on it, without warning. If you want someone to blame for your dead family, your fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers and children who have lost their lives to this terrible war, you don't have to look any further than the closest mirror. Not because you sanctioned the attack... but because you didn't protest it... you just accepted it. It's a sin we're all guilty of." Sai's voice dropped to a near whisper.

"We just sat back and watched on our TV's, listened on our radios, and went on with our lives. It happened way up in space after all. To Coordinators. Who were causing problems. Why should we have cared? Well, looking back now, it seems kind of obvious. If someone nuked a bunch of my helpless family and friends without warning, you can bet I'd not take it lying down! Nobody reasonable would. They responded in an entirely predictable manner and we called them traitors and dissidents and terrorists. We let people like Azrael Murata and Cervantes Zunnichi guide our desires, fuel our hatred at our losses and gloss over the fact that we had thrown the first punch. We did this... I'm speaking about all of us. Why did we do this? Because it was easy. It shifted the responsibility onto someone elses shoulders. It let us go on with our lives without us having to worry about what it all meant, about what a terrible tragedy we'd all committed and accepted. We stuck our heads in the sand and we only take them out when ZAFT kicks our ass, not when we kick theirs. We put our fates in the hands of men who would go to any length... any length at all, to destroy people who hadn't done them any great harm. Including nuking our own cities and blaming ZAFT. Including kidnapping toddlers from their houses and conditioning them into killers. Including attempted assassination of any person who tried to take a stand against them." Sai knew he had every last bit of undivided attention now.

"It's painful to realize the truth of what I'm saying... but that's my challenge to you, the people of the world. Look at your actions... really look at them. Have you acted in a way you're proud of? Did you make a stand? Did you blow the whistle? Or did you stand by and let it all happen, because that was the easy and safe thing to do? I can tell you what I did, and it wasn't any of the former." Sai looked out at the audience. "But I'm not going to let things just pass me by any more. Better late than never, I'm making my stand now. I'm going to put a stop to things and I'm inviting you... challenging you... to stand with me. And not just stand, but progress forward to a bright future for all of us." Sai paused again. "Naturally, a few things have to happen before we go any further though. We have to stop the war. I have a plan for that, but first I'm going to let my military advisors, Lieutenant Cyprus Finch and Markov Ashino, fill you in a bit on the current military situation."

"Thank you, sir." Cyprus acknowledge brusquely, stepping forward two paces and coming to parade rest. He didn't bother to use a microphone... though not his favorite, public speaking was a skill like any other and one that, like most others, he'd practiced to some extent. "I have been appointed commander in chief of the EA military. I am a lieutenant. That rank will not be changing. For all you soldiers listening, you can rest assured that no longer will ANY battle be planned without the considerations of the common soldier taken into account. I do not let my men and women be killed for no reason. With that said, death is sometimes unavoidable... we choose to serve and protect and sometimes that means we have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Now..." Cyprus paused a moment as the spotlights dimmed and a massive display screen deployed from the wall behind him. "Some might consider it foolish to lay our plans out in the open, across public news channels that ZAFT will of course be monitoring. In many cases, that would be correct... but right now, nothing either side says will make much difference for the upcoming battle as we both know what either side is trying to do."

"ZAFT will be launching a full scale strike against the Moon within one or two days. Their buildup is impossible to ignore... any amateur astronomer with a x100 telescope can pick up their fleet movements if they look at the right part of the sky. They will be targeting our various lunar fleet bases with the intent to destroy or occupy them. If they accomplish their goal they will have won the war in space, which will place them in a position of nigh unassailability for the rest of whatever war there may be. Our own defenses have been extensively reinforced ever since the space buildup became known to us, and our forces will be doing whatever they can to repulse and destroy the incoming attack. If we are successful then, depending on the severity of ZAFT losses, they may be forced to sue for peace. This is the outcome we most desire, barring that of peace talks beginning now... though few of us hold any hope that such can occur. My message to our brave soldiers manning the defenses on the Moon is this: Hang on as best you can, reinforcements WILL come and fight like the future of humanity is resting on your shoulders, because it is. Now I'll turn the floor over to Markov Ashino, our mobile suit expert."

"Thank you, Cyprus." Ashino stepped forward as well. "Much of what I would talk about is classified, so instead I'll tell you a little bit about myself. My name is Markov Johanavich Ashino. I do not know when or where I was born, who my family is or what they look like. The reason for this lack of knowledge is that I was stolen from my home when I was only one or two years old, by order of the Blue Cosmos leadership. I was inducted into a new project, which would become known as the Biological Central Processing Unit Production Facility, BCPU ProFac or just BCPU for short. Another name for what me and dozens of my fellows became due to the fruits of this project was Extended. Ninety nine point nine repeating percent of all listeners will have no idea what I'm talking about... those who do are likely panicking. I was conditioned, both physically and mentally, in such a rigorous manner as to be inhumane. My memory was wiped at least three times and I underwent extensive emotive reprogramming to bury my positive emotions like love and curiosity and forgiveness while enhancing or extending the reach of such emotions as hate, fear and loyalty. Beyond this mental trauma was the physical trauma... I was subjected to three full open body surgeries, performed largely without anaesthetic. My organs are covered with synthetic armor and my bones are reinforced with polymer-metallic strands that make them far sturdier than any normal human. I was forcibly addicted to several different drugs, many of which I require in daily doses to live." He slipped his knife out from behind his back.

"My blood is composed of not only what human blood is, but several dozen other chemicals besides. Among many other properties, it coagulates almost instantly when I am injured... like so." Ashino rolled up a sleeve of his flight suit while he talked and then slashed his arm deeply with the knife. There was a gasp from the audience as blood spurted from the long and deep gash and then a much louder exclamation when, within seconds, the blood dried and scabbed over, leaving a thick leathery residue over the wound. "It won't scar, either. My eyes have been upgraded to allow me to see into the infared spectrum to some extent, while also granting me the ability to see in the dark much like NVG's do. The rest of my senses are likewise amplified to being two or three times as good as any Naturals... better even than most Coordinators. None of these upgrades was voluntary. I didn't want them... but I was too young to protest at first and later I was conditioned not to protest. I was programmed to think of myself as an object. To regard Naturals as my righteous masters, above me in all things. I was not paid or compensated for my service. I did not officially exist. I was lucky to survive at all... hundreds of other children were not so fortunate. I was forced to learn to fight, to kill, to pilot war machines, to fly Gundams. I lived in a cell and I was privilged to wear a military uniform rather than simple coveralls. I was brought up to hate Coordinators more than anything else, and to kill them on sight. Why did all this happen to me? I don't know. But it did... I was made to be a weapon, a destroyer, so that other people wouldn't have to risk their lives or bloody their hands in fighting for their own warped ideals." There was absolute silence in the auditorium now.

"But that is in the past. I cannot change the past, though I can affect the future. It is because of Sai and people like him that I have a chance at regaining a semblance of a normal life. Because he took a stand I have a chance. I'm never going to forget that." Ashino stared balefully out into the audience. "I'd advise you not to forget it either. Don't forget the depths to which humanity can sink. Don't forget what lengths you can go in your hatred and fear. I and others like me are the result of uncontrolled fear and the rampant avoidance of responsibility you Naturals have characterized as a whole ever since Coordinators were first created. Don't go down that path any further. I'm begging you... don't go down that path any further. Listen, when hope is offered to you... don't turn him down. We've all been given another chance at a normal life... don't refuse it. Take it... with me." Ashino bowed his head and backed up. "I return the floor to Sai."

"Thank you, Ashino." Sai didn't have to fake the choked up quality in his voice. "My plan, which I'm sure most of you have been waiting a while to hear, is simple. I call it the Isolation Plan. It consists of four major steps. The first step is the removal of all Coordinators from the Earth and the Moon and near orbit locations. We will use force if we have to, but I've already created a fund that will compensate Coordinators for the expenses of moving to the PLANTS as long as they do so peacably, either abandoning or destroying any military equipment they leave behind. From the moment I implement this plan, which will not be until after the battle of the Moon is fought and won, Coordinators will have exactly three months to leave all Natural territories. There will be no attacks or pogroms upon the Coordinators... I encourage people to be as much help as possible in assisting them to leave, we hardly need any more ill feelings between our cultures."

"The second phase of my plan calls for total cessation of all hostilities between us and the PLANTS. This will occur the moment all Coordinators have been relocated to the PLANTS and not one instant before. I am willing to provide generous terms to the PLANTS and I will remain open to their terms in return. The third phase of the plan involves the construction of static defensive peacekeeping forces and installations on both sides. Emphasis on static and defensive. We will not be building up for another attack on the PLANTS, I think we've seen where such follies lead. These forces and installations will serve only one purpose... the seperation of our two cultures. Naturals will not venture into the regions of space owned by Coordinators. Coordinators will not venture onto the Earth, Moon or near orbit. There will be no trade, no communication, no interaction except at the most distant and controlled levels between our two cultures. The Coordinators want indepence, we will give them independence. We don't need them to survive and they don't need us to survive. They have their own agriculture, their own cities, their own industry. Their economy is stronger than ours, actually. So let them have space, as much of it as they desire. We have Earth and the Moon... we won't need anything more for centuries if not millenia. The fourth and final step of the plan is the reconstruction of our society here on Earth, seperate from the Coordinators. That is the Isolation plan. Copies of it in its entirety are available online. Now... I wish I had time for questions but we have a crises in space to manage... afterwards I'll be sure to take as much time as needed to answer any questions people may have..."

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Kira didn't especially like the look on Lacus's face. He couldn't see that the expression on his own face was likewise twisted into a grimace. Both of them, along with pretty much everyone else on the Archangel and the Kusanagi, had just finished tuning in to Sai's announcement of his taking control of the reins of power in the EA. As usual when he listened to Sai speak, Kira found himself agreeing with what his erstwhile friend said, in the general sense... but as always he was unable to shake a sense of unease as well. What Sai said sounded so good, so flawless in a lot of ways, that he couldn't help but be supicious of it. There was just too much good about it... there had to be a downside didn't there? Logic said maybe not, but his gut wouldn't let it go... something was up. _It's because you're looking at it from the perspective of a Natural._ Lacus's voice echoed in his mind as she turned her head to look at him. _Look at it from the side of the PLANTS._ "I don't quite know how..." he started to say, off guard at the suggestion.

"What happens if the flow of raw materials from the PLANTS allies on Earth gets cut off?" Lacus asked him more directly. "We grow a lot of food in the Junius Colonies... maybe enough to support half of our population by ourselves. Half, Kira. The rest comes from Earth. As things are with Australia suffering so much damage to its farmlands, many PLANTS will have instituted food rationing. If that source gets cut off, not to mention the influx of thousands more Coordinators formerly living in Orb and other places around the world... we live in space, Kira, we don't have unlimited room aboard the PLANTS. It's not a difficult calculation... within a week or at most two our food stockpiles will be exhausted. Even if we emergency converted several other PLANTS to agricultural purposes and scavenged from other, outdated colonies, we'd extend our time to at most a month before we were consuming more than our supply. It will take years of construction and development before the PLANTS are truly self sufficient in terms of food. Right now we're fine because we can trade high quality manufactured goods for food, using asteroids for raw materials. If all trade is suspended though..."

"The PLANTS economy will collapse in a manner of weeks... it certainly won't last any longer than the food surplus." Dearka took up the thread. "From there we'll move into food riots and then large scale starvation. After about eight million of us die off from lack of food things might look a little better... at least our population will be stable at the level our agriculture can supply. We'll be self sufficient. Isn't it wonderful. We can even use all those corpses for fertilizer, I'm sure." Dearka cut off when Miriallia slapped him on the arm... she wasn't the only person looking sick. "I'm sorry, but this is a bullshit idea that only a Natural could have come up with. A rich, privileged Natural whos never even been to the PLANTS, never really looked at what the Junius Colonies are capable of and hasn't don't a lick of research on our so called "strong economy", or else he'd realize that his so called perfect Isolation plan is just peacable genocide!"

"He's got to realize that. Sai's not stupid and he really doesn't hate Coordinators... I don't think he wants to kill off millions of us through starvation. I wouldn't give much for my own life if we were to cross paths again... but just listen to him... he really doesn't hate us." Kira pointed out.

"Just because he has good intentions doesn't make him right." Athrun cautioned from the bridge screen. Kira wondered at the slight bruise his friend sported on one cheek... it almost looked like someone had slapped him for some reason, but now wasn't the time to enquire. "We have the best of intentions and everyone seems more than happy to fight us, after all. I think Sai has fallen prey to a common problem for people new to great responsibility... namely, overenthusiasim. He's so caught up in all the sweeping changes he can enact, all the people he can help, all the power he can wield that he just isn't thinking straight. He's rushing forward the generalities without considering all the particulars. And unless someone can wake him up, it's going to potentially cause a tragedy far worse than Junius Seven."

"But this is all conjecture, right? This might not even come to pass. What if ZAFT wins the battles at the Moon? Then the EA will be on the defensive and the PLANTS won't have to worry about the Isolation plan." Miriallia pointed out.

"It's not going to be that easy." Ysak replied. Dearka nodded.

"We're up here to prevent either side from having a battle, to try and get them to seek a peaceful solution. Well, we just heard what the EA consider their solution... I don't think ZAFT's gonna like it much more than I do." Dearka explained. "If we interfere in any of the battles we could potentially tip the favor towards the EA, especially if ZAFT is relying on any WMD's to soften up the opposition. On the other hand we might tip the balance in ZAFT's favor and then they would own the Moon and we don't even know what their terms sound like... they could be anything up to just as harsh as this crackpot Isolation. Given the Us or Them atmosphere of current world politics, any resolution would be binding upon the entire Earth... meaning Orb as well."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't." Waltfeld summed up. "It can't ever get any easier, can it? Last time we were all fighting for our lives, just barely hanging on. Now we have to decide if we can fight at all, and which way to fight if we do. I sometimes really wish I didn't have to wake up in the morning on days like this."

"Well, we cannot let them use WMD's, on either side. That means nuclear missiles for the EA and who knows what for the PLANTS." Murrue said firmly. "I know we came up here for more than just interdiction duty, but until we learn more about the stances of both the EA and the PLANTS on what exactly a peaceful resolution would be, I think we should lay off the confrontational stance of forcing them both to come to the peace table."

"I agree." Lacus said with a heavy sigh.

"Hey, there's always option three." Alkire piped up from the back of the Archangel's bridge. Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged under their scrutiny. "We could defeat both sides and force them to peace under OUR terms." The looks turned disgusted. "Hey, I was just mentioning the possibility."

"Any realistic plans?" Athrun asked. They were still tossing around ideas when a new threat icon pinged into being on the Archangel's long range tactical display.

"Yes, what is it, Operations?" Murrue asked almost immediately, switching the main screen over to feature that display. A gold star blinked to indicate their current position, while a blue star was the Kusanagi and a purple one their destination point with the Eternal. There were large numbers of red squares clustered on and around the Moon, representing the EA forces there, while green triangles around the PLANTS were ZAFT. An orange circle had suddenly appeared over by the Earth, near the closest common point between ZAFT territory and Earth near orbit. That was one of ZAFTS outermost defense lines, and sure enough there was a small concentration of green triangles in proximity to the orange circle, representing the ZAFT defense forces. However, there was also a grouping of red squares in the area, just on the EA side of near orbit, who appeared to be following the orange circle icon as it pushed into the ZAFT lines. They were about five million kilometers away and to Earthward from the Archangels current course. "What am I looking at, Operations?"

"The orange circle just recently appeared, following one of several predicted trajectories for the objects that were launched from Panama just prior to its destruction. It is no longer following a ballistic course and seems to be heading under its own power towards the ZAFT defence force. It appears that whatever the object is it is under observation from a small fleet of EA warships as well... they are following it at a distance of several hundred kilometers but maintaining their distance."

"Any better idea on exactly what the object is?" Waltfeld asked.

"Afraid not sir. It's not very large... smaller than a EA frigate, though it does seem to be moving under its own power. At this range all we're getting is sensor readings... we'd have to get a lot closer before I could put it on the screen visually."

"What is it's new projected course?" Murrue asked.

"Hold on a moment ma'am... theres a couple seconds of delay time between the actual image and whats happening due to the distance involved... course plotting puts it as heading directly for the PLANTS."

"There is no doubt?" Lacus asked.

"No, I'm afraid not, miss Lacus. Whatever it is, it's going right for the November Colonies and at its current speed it'll reach them in about fifteen hours, assuming ZAFT doesn't stop it or it doesn't alter its course."

"And how soon can we get there?" Kira was quick to ask.

"Assuming we went right now, we could intercept the object in... a little less than sixteen hours."

"Kira...? Do you think we should alter our course?" Murrue asked. "And if you do, why?"

"I don't know precisely... but I'm getting a pretty bad feeling about this. We still don't know where Frost... Zacharis Frost, is." Kira was quick to clarify... like everyone else he'd been shocked to meet one of the BCPU's siblings, finding him to be a perfectly likeable Coordinator without a trace of the insane evil his younger brother exhibited. Truly, the warping of the Doc was incredible. "I'm not..."

"Do you think that the unknown contact is Frost?" Athrun asked quietly.

"The signal is too large for the Fury..." Operations started to interrupt, but Murrue cut him off.

Kira looked out into the middle distance as he thought... everyone placed so much stock in what he thought... a wrong call here could really damage their cause... but the feeling was unshakable. It was almost like something was calling to him... he turned and looked at Lacus. "That's not you is it?"

"Is what me?" she asked. He shook his head and looked out at nothing again.

"What about you, Katie. Are you... calling? Or can either you or Ysak or Lacus hear anything?"

"Nothing besides your voice." Ysak said irritably.

"Not that kind of hearing." Kira retorted impatiently. The other Newtypes acquired looks of concentration on their faces, while the non-Newtypes looked slightly confused, as was their right.

"Fuck me..." Ysak breathed. He continued on before Dearka could fill the conversational gap. "Someone is doing something, way over by the PLANTS."

"I've never heard of anything like this... do you have any idea how strong someone would have to be for us to pick them up at this sort of distance?" Katie said in wonder. "No of course none of you do, you're still learning about the basics. I don't even know how strong you'd have to be... stronger than me."

"It sounds like distress..." Lacus said quietly. "Whoever it is needs help."

"Uh, for those of us without extrasensory perception, could someone kindly explain what the HELL is going on?" Waltfeld demanded.

"We're picking up something like a distress signal. A mental distress signal, coming from the PLANTS. It's another Newtype... a damned strong one too." Katie replied. "I say we go... even for a damn strong mind, you'd have to be in a lot of trouble to send out a call at this range. And I'm betting that lot of trouble has something to do with Mr. Orange Circle there."

"I agree." Lacus added, simply. From there it was as good as done.

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"Well... took her long enough. Maybe she's not nearly as great a force as I originally thought." Noah muttered to himself, staring unseeingly at the wall in front of him. "Still, we can't exactly have madman Frost running rampant throughout the PLANTS, can we? No, I decline to be inconvenienced by him right now, though that mobile suit of his could become an interesting resource in the future." He looked away from the wall and back at a computer screen. "Just a little while longer and I'll have all the data I'll ever need on the Pulsar in battle. And we'll have a new Moon to colonize. And we'll all move one step closer towards becoming the one big happy family I know I can make us."

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	84. Judgement Cometh

Red lights blinked into being, casting the dim cockpit into pools of lurid shadows and sickly radiance. At first the pilot resting in the piloting couch did nothing, not even open his eyes. After several seconds he inhaled deeply as if surfacing from deep beneath an ocean and he was just scenting fresh air once more. He held the inhale for several seconds longer than would have been comfortable for a human and then exhaled, his breath smoking in the chilled cockpit. He'd turned off the climate control some time ago... it was a wasteful luxury for someone like him and the cold helped him get into the right mood for things. He casually reached forward with one hand and snagged his helmet from the air in front of him, lack of gravity turning everywhere into a convenient storage location. He didn't bother to deign to look at his threat display screen... a misnamed display in this machine more than any other... he faced no threats, only enemies waiting to be destroyed. With another deep sigh of anticipation that sent plumes of frosted dew sparkling from his mouth and nose like frozen dragonfire, Zacharis Frost readied his grip on his controls and started bringing the Judgement to full combat readiness. Apparently someone in ZAFT had decided that the Judgement was more than just a large piece of space debris and they were going to attempt to contest his right to enter ZAFT space. He checked his position... just over the invisible line... he was almost surprised they hadn't investigated him sooner, but then again most of their forces seemed to be concentrating on the Moon as of late. He shrugged in the stillness of his cockpit, crackling the thin film of crystal ice that had formed on the shoulders of his uniform due to the sub zero temperatures. It didn't matter where ZAFT concentrated their forces... if they wanted to bash themselves senseless against the Moon, that was their perogative, though he'd have preferred they saved themselves for him. Sometimes there just was no accounting for taste or manners.

The Judgement was still encased in an adjustable aerodynamic shell, a re-usable item that was utilized to help minimize air friction when launching the often bulky and unwieldy loads that mass driver's did. Alone, even lying flat, the Judgement had all the natural lift of a one hundred meter long, fifteen hundred ton brick. Not to say that the mass driver couldn't have shot it into orbit anyway, but why use more power than necessary, especially when he also wanted to launch the Fury and ensure enough residual power remained in the system so that when the bombs went off and destabilized the batteries and capacitors they would finish the job completely? While contained within the elongated Delta shape of the shell, a load like the Judgement could be placed in orbit at a tenth the power cost of just launching it bare. He decided that he'd concealed the true form of the Judgement from his victims long enough. Before he acted any further though he typed in a few commands onto a secondary computer and sent a course change to the Fury, which was flying on autopilot and acting as the propulsion mechanism for his ammo and parts barge trailing a few kilometers behind him. Within seconds the Fury and barge veered off and raced away at a nearly perpendicular angle, headed for a position near the Moon, where he would rendevous with it to refresh his supplies after destroying the PLANTS, so as to start afresh with the Moon settlements. With any luck at all it wouldn't be traced or tracked... an object as small as the barge and a single mobile suit was near impossible to follow at distances of more than a few tens of thousands of kilometers... and everyone who was currently closer than that wasn't going to be around long enough for him need to worry about them tracking it.

His fingers twitched in his gloves as his eyes scanned his sensor screens. He'd left his face shield on his helmet up... he didn't want to be bothered with the dry, recycled non-stench of suit air. He wanted to really smell the battle... the excitement, the warmth of war. And it wasn't like they could hurt him anyway. And even if the cockpit was somehow breached, a little vacuum wouldn't hurt him too badly. There was a ZAFT fleet ahead of him and a smaller EA fleet behind him. The EA fleet had been shadowing him for more than a day now, always staying at the very limit of his sensor range... someone wanted him watched. He'd been tolerant enough of it then, but now things were different. He didn't need any eyes on him but the great big invisible ones of his own destiny. If the spotlight were to seek him out later, because most likely it would, since destroying all of humanity tended to grab media attention for as long as it lasted, then that was fine. But right now, at the beginning of the end, he was just on his own, acting in the dark. A good beginning. The ZAFT fleet ahead of him consisted of three Laurasia class frigates and one Nazca class destroyer, while the EA force was merely four 130 meter Drake classes and a pair of 250 meter Nelson classes, recently retrofitted to carry mobile suits as well as mobile armors. Figure twenty ZAFT mobile suits and half that many for the Earth Alliance, plus maybe fifteen Moebius's... it was laughable. He could have done them with the Fury with one arm missing. Especially since the EA seemed more than content to let ZAFT take a swing at him first, rather than doing the sensible thing and team up against him. Racial prejudice was such an ugly, terrible thing... it could get you killed. Better to just hate everyone equally.

"This is the Nazca class destroyer Telsa, Commander Havemyer speaking. Approaching UFO, identify yourself and prepare for inspection and boarding. Be warned that you have crossed into the territorial space of the PLANTS during a time of war and that we of ZAFT will take any and all precautions to ensure the safety of our homes and families, including shooting you down without mercy if you force us to." a strict, firm voice suddenly blared over his radio. Even as the voice spoke, mobile suits began deploying from all four ZAFT vessels... mostly Guaize's with one or two of their new models like the ones they had used against the 12th lunar fleet. There was no sign of the fifth mobile suit, the prototype Gundam, only mass production models. Naturally, having no idea just what sort of threat he really was, he shouldn't have expected ZAFT to send their best. Frost let them come, let them deploy. It would make everything so much more interesting. He also deigned to speak with them.

"This is Zacharis Frost. I deny you your right to board and inspect. This is no longer your territory, it is mine. I am the sole ruler of this place. You will all become my subjects."

"You a raving lunatic or something? You've got one... something or other... but its smaller than a frigate. We heavily outnumber you and we have a technological advantage. Surrender now and we won't kill you." Commander Havemyer replied, disbelief and irritation plain in his voice. Zacharis smiled.

"You misunderstood me. I'm not a lunatic. The Moon holds no power over me. What I am is the Sovereign of the Dead. And you are all my subjects." Frost flexed the arms and legs of the Judgement slightly, cracking and splintering the aerodynamic shell in dozens of places. His CIWS guns cycled up to speed as he cued in a quick series of commands. "Well, you will be shortly, anyway. Let me introduce you to my manifest destiny..." Frost activated his CIWS emplacements and blew the shell to fragments in a blizzard of small caliber explosive ammunition. "... The Judgement. Your Judgement."

"Oh holy mother of go..." the transmission from the Nazca class cut off as Frost casually pointed the left arm of the Judgement at it and activated the six 75cm high energy beam cannons of Gottfried's Maul... the six fat green beams flew right down the throat of the ship with it's hanger doors still open as it launched its last mobile suit and blew the ship into space dust. His hands darting over the controls, Frost activated and aimed other portions of the Judgement's armament, while the autofiring systems swiveled the four dual 120mm gatling cannon turrets around and started acquiring and destroying targets... mobile suits in this case. Shocked at the sudden destruction of their flagship, the other ZAFT ships and mobile suits were slow to respond. In the blink of an eye, half the mobile suits were gone, blown away by the torrent of heavy cannon shells. The massive muzzle of the Ultimate Justice positron cannon glowed briefly with arcs of blue and red energy before it vomited a massive burst of ionic energy that swept through two of the Laurasia classes like a hot knife through butter. Then hundreds of missile ports slammed open on the Judgements back and clouds of radar guided missiles sprouted from them, so many that several missiles actually collided before they could reach their targets. Six heavy anti-ship missiles chewed through space and their lesser cousins like barracudas through silty water, heading for the last Laurasia class. It's point defenses picked off four of them, but the other two struck decisive wounds... one holing the engineering spaces while the other struck home amidships and disabled the power distribution center for the ship. Crippled and berefit of power it began to drift, fires raging across many interior compartments.

While his missiles accounted for the mobile suits Frost took manual control of the gatling cannons and fired a focused three second burst from all four mounts at the disabled ship... the stream of shells seemed to erode away the ship's hull like a sand castle being hit with a garden hose before finally the plasma reactors detonated and replaced the ship with a roiling ball of fire. "That was hardly any fun at all..." Zacharis broadcast over an open channel, slowly bringing the Judgement around and orienting on the EA fleet which was still watching him from a goodly distance. "Perhap's you'll make more fun for me?"

"Retreat! All ships, back full emergency! Turn us around and get us out of here! Fire all missiles and ship to ship torpedoes! All gunnery stations stand by to intercept incoming enemy projectiles. Fire anti-beam depth charges and all other countermeasures!" the captain in charge of the EA flagship, the Nelson class ship Columbus, barked orders madly. He'd just watched as the gigantic mobile suit that had been inside the atmospheric flight shell had wiped out four well prepared ZAFT warships in less than a minute, before any of them could even fire back. He'd been warned that the object he'd been assigned to monitor might have capabilities beyond what his fleet was equipped to handle, but he hadn't believed it until now. Run from ZAFT... sure, he was a veteran of the space battles during the last war... he'd seen only too many times what mobile suits were capable of doing to ships like his. But flee from a single ship, smaller than a Drake class? Never. But it wasn't a ship... it was some sort of super sized mobile suit that looked to be more heavily armed than his entire force, including the ships!

Frost ignored the incoming missiles and torpedoes... the automatic CIWS control system could handle them, and if it couldn't the Phase shift sure could. On further thought, he temporarily disabled the CIWS system... he wanted to see what would happen. The EA ships were milling around, desperately trying to reverse course and maneuver away from him, while also firing every sort of countermeasure they had in what would shortly be a vain attempt to ward off their fate. The Judgement had been designed by the same side that had built the countermeasures for those ships... he could cut through their sensor interference with the press of a button. The Judgement shivered once or twice and a few shards of debris registered briefly on his sensors as the salvo of long range munitions impacted all over the chest and limbs of the advancing Judgement. He checked his systems monitoring screen... no damage detected. He'd barely even been slowed by the impacts. His confidence totally assured now, he reactivated the CIWS systems... they couldn't hurt him anyway, but there were appearances to maintain... he couldn't just let them think they could shoot at him, even to no effect at all.

"Sir! The countermeasures aren't having any effect! He's locked onto us!" the XO screamed.

"EVADE!" The captain shouted in reply... less than a second before his entire world turned to green fire and unbearable heat. The Columbus spat sparks and fire from the two longitudal holes melted through its superstructure and then broke up like a model thrown to the ground by an angry child. There was no explosion, just a sort of scattering of parts. Frost shifted his aim slightly and fired two more of his Gottfried's... he could fire anywhere from just one to all six at a time... it was more efficient to use only two right now that he didn't have a dramatic point to make. The second Nelson class started to drift and burn, cut almost in half as it had been side on to the Judgement when it had been struck. Seeing they weren't going to be able to outdistance their foe soon enough, the Drake class escorts started to swing back around to make a token stand. Frost gave them a brief nod... thanking them for their cooperation. Some humans did know how to die, he had to give them that. One blast from each of his two remaining cannons accounted for a Drake class each, sending them spiralling into the growing patch of debris that was rapidly starting to collect in this part of space. One of the other ships blasted at him with all its weapons, to exactly zero effect... the ship just did not carry the weaponry needed to penetrate heavy Phase Shift armor. The Ultimate Justice quieted it's struggles dramatically... indeed there was little left of the ship other than scorched molecules after the beam died away.

The last remaining EA ship had kicked its thrusters into overdrive and was diving at him like a bat out of hell, plainly intending to ram him in hopes of taking him out with the resultant explosion. He made no move to get out of the way... his fingers twitched over a switch, which he threw a mere three seconds before impact. One second before impact, the Citadel lightwave barrier sprang into being around the Judgement, shielding it from the heat and concussion generated by the impact. The force caused the drifting Judgement to reverse course slightly, but that was only to be expected of two masses encountering each other in space and imparting kinetic energy into each other. When the Citadel barrier dropped a few seconds later, Frost was once again alone. His cockpit hadn't even gotten warm enough to melt even the thinnest patch of the ice on his uniform. His breathing hadn't changed and neither had his heart rate. It had been his first "cold" battle in longer than he could remember. He'd been told that he had fought like this back when he was a mere BCPU 4. It had been a nice change of pace... but it reminded him too much of how Ashino fought. The Judgement was a nice machine and an excellent tool of destruction... but it just wasn't his style. He'd continue to use it, despite it's lack of artistry, since he had some very large structures he needed to break up in the near future, but he didn't think he'd ever grow to think of the Judgement with the fondness he did of the Fury. With that thought being his only remorse, he turned and slowly made his way back onto his original course, the one that would lead him towards the PLANTS heartland. He sighed, blowing tiny ice crystals around the cockpit like the breath of death itself.

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"Don't we have any other forces we can throw in it's path!?" the ZAFT Admiral in charge of homeland defense raged as he scrambled to understand the disaster that had just been dropped into his lap. "We lost a Nazca and three Laurasia's to whatever that thing is? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No sir, I wish I was." his aide said, nervously brushing at her bangs. She wasn't fully briefed on the situation either, but whenever her boss the Admiral started swearing it meant things were very seriously bad. He hadn't done any swearing since the attack on Junius Six.

"Ahg, goddamn it!" The Admiral shook his head as if he could shake away the nightmare he was living like a bad dream. He stormed into his situation room aboard the ZAFT headquarters space station. "Somebody get me a sitrep!"

"Sir, the UFO is still approaching the PLANTS. It has increased it's speed and it will reach our fourth line of defenses in two hours. If we can't stop it there, it'll be at the fifth and final line fifteen minutes later and from there it's only ten minutes to the PLANTS." a sour faced commander reported.

"What about our second and third defense... nevermind. Pulled away for the attack on the godforsaken Moon, yes, I fucking remember!" the Admiral replied. He jerked his head around and glared at his Chief of Operations, a subordinate admiral. "Admiral, you'd better have some damn good news for me, or my ass is grass and everyone elses along with it! If we can't stop this thing at the fourth line, even if the fifth line stops it, the council will have ALL our asses on the fucking firing line! It's just a single ship! What kind of forces do we have!?"

"Currently holding the forth line we have the Synclayr, Jameson, Ashley and Uriel teams with their assorted motherships and escorts, for a total of forty five mobile suits, five Nazca classes and thirteen Laurasia classes. In reserve we have the Romaine team along with four more Laurasia's. We also have an entire class of senior cadets, for some thirty seven students with Ginn trainers that we can arm, plus a few more Ginn High Maneuvers from the instructors."

"Shit, we're throwing the kids into the line?" the senior Admiral shook his head in sadness. His aide gave him a level look he couldn't see behind his head...she was barely eighteen herself... "kids" like the cadets about to graduate from the Academy, were perfectly capable of handling themselves in a fight, even with their outdated Ginn trainers. Then she thought about the fleet that had been the first line of defence... destroyed in less than a minute. She reconsidered the Admirals sentiment and breathed a silent curse of her own. "I suppose it cannot be helped. Get started on arming those trainers and briefing in the instructors. We have a level one emergency situation here people. I'd call in the Boy and Girl Scouts if I thought it would do any good. Whatever the fuck this thing is, we cannot and will not let it get past us. If we can, we'll destroy it... if not, we'll just hold out until the Moon Invasion fleet UNFUCKS ITSELF, and sends a force to help us."

A communications officer floated into the room, head swiveling like a search beacon until she spotted the purple coated Admiral hovering amidst his staff of black and white coated subordinates around the tactical display table. "Admiral, sir! We have received a long distance message!"

"Who the fuck is calling long distance?" the Admiral snorted, beckoning to the girl to come over and give her report properly. "It never rains but it pours..." the Admiral muttered angrily... he already had enough problems, now he was getting calls from outside the PLANTS... he didn't need this bullshit now. "Well!?" he demanded, perhaps more harshly than he meant to. The ensign looked like she wanted to bolt and run, but she visibly grabbed hold of her mental state and came to attention in midair as she floated before enough senior brass to sink a cruiser.

"Sir, the sender of the message is Lacus Clyne. She's calling from aboard the former AFSF Archangel, which is currently en route to ZAFT space along with the ONSF (Orb National Space Forces) Kusanagi. She's offering to help us contain or destroy the UFO." the ensign reported briskly. Personally she didn't know what to make of the communication... one didn't get calls from a rogue warship every day, especially not ones under the ID code of the Clyne family. On one hand, Lacus Clyne was Lacus Clyne and she would never do anything to harm the PLANTS. On the other, she was aboard the Archangel, which had never been considered an allied ship of ZAFT... indeed it was most often classified under the description "Dangerous Enemy, disable or destroy on sight". The actions of that ship and it's crew during this current incarnation of the war hadn't done anything to improve ZAFT's opinion of it.

"Lacus Clyne from the Archangel..." the senior Admiral growled. "I don't need this shit now. Tell her to go mind her own damn business. Now, I have nothing against miss Lacus, but that ship is a confirmed enemy vessel. I will not allow ANOTHER enemy into ZAFT space, not even to help fight whoever the fuck this other guy is! No, I'm sorry, but Lacus and her little group can sit this out and let the politicians catch the flak for it later. This is a ZAFT matter and I will not tolerate outside meddling in our defense affairs!"

"So we're refusing their offer of help, sir?' the ensign dared to ask for clarification.

"Hell, yes we are!" the Admiral shouted. "I don't fucking trust the Archangel! Or the Kusanagi! Orb was part of the the Alliance. The Archangel is an Alliance ship, with an Alliance crew and Alliance mobile suits! I'm seeing too much of the fucking Alliance here, ensign! No means no! Tell them they can go fuck off somewhere else and interfere in someone elses backyard, preferrably the Alliances! You can assure them that if they encroach upon our territories, they will be fired upon with the intent to destroy without further warning. Do I make myself clear, ensign!?"

"Perfectly, sir." she willed herself to not show her terror at being verbally battered by someone more than ten pay grades above her. The Admiral backed off a few notches and nodded slightly.

"Very well then, carry on, ensign." he turned back to trying to figure out what sort of fucked up battle plan he was going to be using for this calamity. "How much time do we got... less than two and a half hours? FUCK!!" The communication's ensign saluted his back sharply and then pushed off an edge of the table and headed back to her post... furiously trying to come up with a PC way to phrase the Admiral's reply to miss Lacus. It was very difficult.

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"I could have told you that was going to happen." Alkire had the bad grace to mutter when they received the reply from ZAFT HQ. Murrue gave him a very mild glare that still more than managed to display her displeasure.

"Next time, pray do so beforehand then. If you can't make any helpful comments, please refrain from commenting at all while you're on my bridge." Murrue ordered him flatly. She turned back to the screen which displayed the ZAFT response. It was brief to the point of abruptness. "Offer of aid Executively and Sincerely Declined. Do not enter ZAFT space, you will be destroyed without further warning. Do not interfere in this or any other ZAFT military matter. Our utmost committment is the defense of our homeland against any and all enemies." Murrue read out loud once more.

"Very polite way of saying... "Sod off and die, we hate you"..." Waltfeld observed calmly. "I must admit, though I hoped for them to be reasonable, theres been a lot of bad history between ZAFT and the Archangel. They won't just forget pretty much the entire last war just because of a single threat."

"It's Zacharis Frost! He wiped out two seperate fleets in a matter of minutes! That's not a simple threat!" Kira replied, frustration more than evident in his voice.

"Well we're not sure it's Frost just yet..." Waltfeld cautioned. "Very high likelihood, but we haven't confirmed it. And in any case... you know that... we know that... but ZAFT doesn't."

"Is there any way we can speed up our arrival?" Ysak asked intently. "Frost has increased his own speed dramatically and unless something totally unexpected occurs, he's going to be engaged with the ZAFT fourth line of defense in a matter of a few hours. If he gets past them we only have a few static defense satellites between him and the PLANTS."

"What about the main ZAFT forces? Are they doing anything?" Athrun asked. The operations officer replied to him first, since the information was more readily on hand.

"The main concentrations of the ZAFT space forces are already en route to the Moon. Their reserves are mobilizing to the rear, but by the time they respond in an effective manner we would have already been there for two or three hours." the officer turned to where Ysak stared out of a side screen. "We are going at maximum flank speed, Mr. Jule. We cannot go any faster. We will arrive at ZAFT HQ in ten hours and forty one minutes and a few seconds."

"And how long after the time of engagement of the ZAFT fourth defense line is that?" Katie enquired.

"A little more than eight hours." there was a mutual hissing of dislike throughout the bridges of both ships. Eight hours was a lot of time. "The first elements of the ZAFT main force should encounter the first line of Moon defenses in roughly thirteen hours." the operations officer informed everyone, heading off the inevitable question.

"We continue forward, please." Lacus spoke up. There was a troubled look on her face, but she forced herself to remain determined. "There isn't much we can do to affect the Moon right now... our best chance to make any sort of favorable impression on this war is to intercept Frost before he can do too much damage to the PLANTS. ZAFT may not want our help, but they do need it, especially if that really is Frost." Lacus didn't doubt that it was, though she knew not everyone aboard the ships shared her and Kira's conviction. "Once we straighten out this threat to the PLANTS we can work on affecting the situation concerning the Moon and the peace talks afterwards. Too often we're hamstrung by our need to have a goal to be working towards... deciding what our goal is has always been hard for us. Well, let's make it simple. We'll save the PLANTS. Then we'll stop the war. Easy." she forced a smile.

"Yeah... easy..." Murrue echoed, trying to keep everyone's spirits up as they sped through space towards an unknown fate.

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"Was that all?" Frost surveyed the battered and ruined remnants of the ZAFT fleets that had come to attack him. Scores of mobile suits and more than a dozen capital warships. They'd started firing on him the moment he'd entered long range for their main guns, which had at least kept it entertaining for a while... until they figured out he had bigger guns, with longer range. A single shoulder fired semi-strategic missile had accounted for about forty percent of the pitiful defense forces in triple actinic flashes of light. He still had seven of those missiles left... more than plentiful. Gottfried's Maul and Ultimate Justice were more than sufficient persuasion from that point on for ZAFT to try and bring the fight to closer quarters. He'd toyed with them for a while, against his better instincts. It was so hard not to feel invincible while piloting the Judgement... their attacks either bounced off his geischmeidig-panzer shield blisters or exploded harmlessly against his phase shift armor if they weren't intercepted and destroyed by pinpoint CIWS fire first. Whenever enough firepower from the warships converged on him to raise his heartrate a beat or two, all it took was a quick flip of the Citadel array activation switch and then a couple harsh taps on his thrusters afterwards to weather the storm and ditch their targeting lock. He hadn't racked up a deathcount in a battle this high ever before... and neither had he ever had less fun doing it. It wasn't even a contest. Maybe Cray could get off on blasting things to tiny little pieces with big guns... but it was all too... bloodless... for Frost. He couldn't feel hardly any of the deaths from so far away.

"Was that really all you had? You even threw in the trainers!" Frost scolded the spaceborne graveyard around him. The trainers, piloted by either fresh out of the Academy cadets or cadets still in the latter parts of the training program, had at least been amusing for a while. He'd entertained himself for nearly an hour and a half by tormenting them with his gun barrel systems. Shooting to wound, to disarm, to disable and eventually to kill. Though only one or two at a time... he didn't want them to all be berefit of the heart rending experience of watching your friends die around you while you were helpless to do anything about it. He wasn't that cruel, that he would deny them the chance to really feel true hatred. He wanted to have at least some common ground with them, and that was just about the only way he could bring it about. "Where is the great and terrible enemy I was created to defeat? Where are these so called space monsters? Huh? What happened? This is too easy! Too fucking easy!" Zacharis shouted into the empty comm. "Pathetic." he sneered.

His sensors revealed no other active threats. Some few minutes cruise ahead of him was a ring of static defense satellites, but they were less than no concern at all. He'd just turned the vaunted ZAFT space forces into so much scrap... what did he have to fear from automated gun turrets and a few measly beam cannons? Nothing at all. He checked his systems monitor again... power was of course still full... with three seperate several hundred megawatt nuclear reactors, he couldn't run out of power if he tried. The massive internal arsenals of the Judgement still housed more than sixty percent ammunition for the gatling cannons, and thirty percent for the CIWS. He was down to only twelve hundred anti-vehicle missiles and just twelve anti-ship missiles... he wasn't used to dealing with ammunition based weapons, he kept forgetting that they could run out of ammo and stop working. It was very annoying... melee weapons weren't so limited. But plainly whoever had designed this monstrosity hadn't been of a like mind with Frost, so he was forced to make do with all the guns instead of a simple, beautiful sword or claw.

Balefully he set his eyes upon the closest large structure. It wasn't a PLANT, but rather was the empty quadrangle that served as ZAFT HQ and the primary shipyard for ZAFT warships. It was also the location of several of their training Academies, including one of not more than a couple Mobile Suit Piloting schools in the entire world. Looming behind the HQ station was the first of the PLANTS... the November Colonies if his computer could be relied upon. He didn't really care... he was "going to smash those damn hourglasses into dust" much like Azrael had once commanded. If November was the first to go, then it was the first to go. He kicked in his thrusters and headed for the PLANTS... he'd decided to let ZAFT watch as all they strove to protect was annihilated in front of their eyes while they watched helplessly... a fitting punishment for their extremely poor attempt at stopping him. He was just passing by the ZAFT HQ when suddenly he felt like his brain had caught fire. He spasmed hard in his seat, the straps holding him mostly in place as he thrashed. Spittle flew from his slack jaws and froze almost instantly into icicles that decorated his screens in random patterns as his head jerked from side to side. As suddenly as the fit had come on it left, leaving him panting and squinting in pain.

"Wha' th' hell...?" Frost muttered, tasting his own blood on his tongue from where he'd bitten it during his convulsions. "What happened to me? I haven't felt like that since..." Frost's mind flashed backwards to a series of rooms in Orb, during the day everyone else called Purgatory Day. He remembered the searing voice that had played from the speakers, filling him with pain of such intensity that even he couldn't ignore it. He jerked back to the present, scowling mightily. He hadn't heard any singing just then... something was fishy. He turned off his comm system just to be sure. While he was in the Judgement, he was the weak link for once. Pink could defeat him just using a telephone, if he was stupid enough to listen. He had to prevent that from happening at all costs... it would be too shameful to even begin to bear. Zacharis Frost, Sovereign of Death, sung into submission by Pink... he felt physically ill at the mere idea. It was during these musings that the pain returned, ten times worse than before. He couldn't even move it hurt so much. His eyes bugged out from his head and he couldn't catch a breath for the life of him. His hands floated limp at the ends of his arms and he could tell that he'd wet himself for the first time in living memory. The pain inside his head kept scaling up and up and up and then in a final flash of perfect agony, it ended and he lost consciousness.

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Noah collapsed onto the floor of his secret lab, drenched in sweat, his eyes fluttering in semi-consciousness. He'd been very surprised to discover the mental vulnerability of Zacharis Frost... his mind was totally open to Noah's talents. Way more open than anyone he'd ever encountered before. He had exactly ZERO mental defenses, besides the fact that his mind was a hideous thing to look at mentally. Noah saw people as strings of numbers... but Frost was represented by a negative imaginary infinite... which hurt a logical mind like Noah's just by looking at it from a distance. It was an impossibility... insane in the most basic of senses. Touching it, much less hammering at it with his own will had not been fun. Or painless. For a while, he saw into every corner of Frost's brutalized mind... relived every memory, both those he remembered and those he did not, felt every emotion, read every thought... he suddenly had some idea how Melanie may have felt when he overstimulated her entire psyche. Luckily, he only had to endure for an instantaneous moment, and his mind was far more structured and resistant than hers had been. Then Frost had lost consciousness and nearly so the same for Noah. He hadn't realized it was going to be so hard... the distance had been negated by the openness of the mind, but the backlash was beyond anything he'd ever expected.

Still, he'd bought the PLANTS a little time... come what may in the future, but Noah was a Coordinator and a patriotic one too, in his opinion. Perhaps the most patriotic of all, really. He would not sit idly by and let some madman creation of his uncle's kill innocent Coordinators who could do nothing to save themselves. True, maybe he'd only initially intended to grab Frost's intentions, not put a stop to him personally, but he had seen the opportunity and he couldn't bring himself to let it go to waste. Even as much as he regretted it now, slipping towards his own blessed unconsciousness. He'd been so looking forward to investigating Lacus when she arrived near the PLANTS... now he was... going to... be... aslee...

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Frost jerked back to full wakefulness. He didn't even have a headache, though he well remembered the pain that had apparently incapacitated him for... he checked one of the cockpit chronometers. "Four hours and twenty five minutes!?" He shrieked in outrage. SOMEONE WAS GOING TO PAY! He'd been brutally attacked by someone, somehow, who'd managed to find the one weak spot he himself wasn't entirely sure he had and who had taken extreme advantage of it. Whenever Frost found the culprit... and he would find them, since he had a few good ideas on where to look, they would regret it. He promised himself that they would. "I've been out for four hours and twenty five minutes!?" Frost smiled, but it wasn't from happiness. He hadn't slept that long since he became a sixer, voluntarily or sedated. Whoever his attacker was, they packed a serious punch into whatever they'd done to him. He tensed, waiting for whoever it was to try and come back to finish the job... but he waited in vain for nearly another ten minutes. "Fuck it... I've got other things to do." Frost checked his status displays again, wondering bad temperedly what he'd missed while he was out.

Apparently ZAFT had tried to get cute... first by long range attacks from their defense satellites, which his auto defenses took care of easily enough, then by sending at least two or three shuttles over to investigate his lack of agressive response, judging from the new wreckage in relative proximity to him. He was glad he'd left the gatling cannons on auto, even if he had used up half his remaining ammo... CIWS wouldn't have done much to deter a shuttle... though it did seem to have caused a few problems from the soldiers who'd tried to EVA over to him from the station. Too small to register on the gatling cannon targeting menu, an adult Coordinator was still about the same size and mass as a missile and the CIWS treated them as such. Pathetically slow moving missiles, but missiles nonetheless. According to the computer records, the last attempted boarding of the Judgement had been almost a half hour ago... they must be planning something else. Well, they'd lost their unfair advantage now that he was awake again. He felt the rage bubbling hotly inside him, and it took all his newfound control to choke it back. Even then, it wasn't choked back very far. Bad things were going to happen and he was the one who was going to do them. He lined up his left arm with ZAFT HQ and his right arm with the closest November PLANT. Initially he'd intended to use the nukes, but now he needed to assuage his bloodlust with a few slower deaths. He didn't care if all of ZAFT piled onto his back in the interim... in his current mood, he'd welcome a bit of a challenge.

The senior Admiral in charge of ZAFT home defense was still frantically rehashing a new strategy to either attack or board the apparently drifting Judgement, while anxiously glancing at the clock that counted down the seconds until the ZAFT reserve forces would arrive... still more than three hours away, but they'd already been blessed with a longer lull than that. Long range scanners also indicated that the Archangel and Kusanagi were both still on approach vectors as well, and much closer at a little less than an hour out. He was pissed that they'd ignored his refusal of their help, but he was prepared to let it go if they could slow down this monster. He'd watched his entire force get annihilated by the Judgement in a matter of hours... and it only took that long because the beast piloting it, Zacharis Frost, took the time to pick his prey apart like a cat playing with a bunch of helpless mice. The drawn out tortured deaths of the trainees had hit the Admiral especially hard... but there was no time to mourn them now. "SIR!" a sensor officer shouted a warning. The Admiral was just turning to acknowledge him when the entire station lurched and shuddered. The sound of explosions echoed down the miles of hallways, accompanied by the far more sinister sound of air leaking out through massive rents in the stations structure. Everyone in the command center was thrown flying through the air as one Gottfried beam passed within a few tens of meters of the room. Alarm klaxon's blared and airtight doors slammed as ZAFT HQ started trying to recover from the grievous wound dealt to it.

Static warred with random images on the display of the damaged tactical table. The picture slowly stabilized, showing a view of the Judgement hanging in space a few tens of kilometers to the Moonward of the station, clearly fully operational again, it's left arm still pointing at the HQ station while the rifle in its right arm... the positron cannon... was aimed off the screen. The Judgement's left arm disappeared in a huge flash of green light, which manifested itself as another massive series of impacts as six 75cm Gottfried cannons blasted the station again, blowing huge chunks out of it and burning terrible scars entirely through the station, killing hundreds of ZAFT personnel. The real killer though, to the dazed people in the command room, was the target of the Judgement's right hand weapon. "I... I've... failed..." the Admiral muttered, his eyes wide with shock as he slipped into unconsciousness, his skull fractured open from where he'd slammed it into the tactical table when the first attack hit. The image on the screen showed the end of the rifle glowing red and blue then disappearing in a flash of light too bright for the cameras to record.

The outer panels that isolated the PLANTS interiors from space, the huge clear sheets of metallic glass, were designed to take a beating. Heat, impact, torque... any sort of physical damage or most forms of energy had very little effect upon the meters thick glass. Even capital warship weapons could barely scratch it, at least after only one or two shots... sustained barrages would eventually exceed the vibration and shock tolerances of the material. Enough heat would do the job too... Frost had proved that at Junius Six with the Fury's beam swords. Anti-matter, like the positrons launched by the Ultimate Justice, ignored everything previously stated. They hit the electrons in the glass and both particles annihilated each other instantly. The positron cannon blast shot through the outer glass of November Eight like it was gauze and continued on to carve a ten meter diameter tunnel through the base of the PLANT, into the sub levels of the central pillar and out the other side of the PLANT. Still for all the terrible energy and power of the shot, a mere ten meter hole was less than a pinprick to something the size of a PLANT. That was okay with Frost... he had a lot of anger to work out... he didn't want it to be over so soon. Sparing ZAFT HQ only a single look back and one more volley from Gottfried's Maul, he guided the Judgement closer to November Eight... it was time to get down to business.

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"SHIT! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!" Ysak cried, quite literally, with real tears running down his face. "We're too LATE!"

Athrun stood next to him and could only stare numbly at what he could see on the screen... which was what the Kusanagi's long range cameras were currently looking at. They had watched on their sensors as Frost had plowed through the fourth defense line like it was made from cardboard blocks like what toddlers played with. Before observing that "battle" he'd had reservations about who the pilot of the rogue killing machine was. Not afterwards. Even through a casual sensor display, it was easy to see the pilot of the big whatever it was... mobile suit, warship or some combination of both... enjoying playing with his foes. Treating them like entertainment as he slowly isolated them, picked at them... bled them... and then snuffed them out like insects. He had no doubt now that they were going up against Frost... with Cray dead and Ashino reliably down on Earth, there was really only one choice. No one else they knew of was both so skilled and so... evil.

It had been sickening watching the battle on the impersonal blocks and lines diagrams of the sensors. Seeing things on the cameras was infinitely worse. ZAFT HQ hung in the top corner of the picture, belching smoke and fire out into space from a dozen different craters in its outer hull. It would take far more than just a few volleys of capital ship fire to destroy the station, but the damage was severe nonetheless. The image itself was damaging... that was the beating heart of ZAFT there on the screen, and any Coordinator with a pair of strong binoculars and a good viewpoint could get a good look at it, scarred, bloody and hurt. But as bad as that was, worse still was the magnified image of the mobile suit-ship hovering just a kilometer or two from the outer wall of the PLANT November Eight, blasting away with total impunity, slowly widening a gaping hole in the outer surface of the PLANT. They could see it... watch it happening... but they couldn't do a thing about it... not for another forty minutes at the earliest... and leading off the rescue with a maximum range attack from four Lohengrins wasn't exactly a perfectly safe option.

Dearka stood by a wall and stared at it without really looking, while punching his hands repeatedly into the wall. Not hard enough to hurt individually, but he'd been doing it for several minutes now and it was beginning to sting. He didn't care. Better stinging hands and an at least partially occupied mind than feeling perfectly fine and being forced to deal with the mental torment of helplessly watching part of his home nation be destroyed. Of watching the deaths of tens of thousands, perhaps as much as hundreds of thousands of people play out in real time on a screen. It was like Purgatory Day, but worse, since he couldn't even do anything about it but watch... not for another fifty minutes. He was aware of Mir standing just behind him, watching him with concern, but he'd shrugged off her hand of commiseration. This was Coordinator stuff... this was his home being attacked, much like Purgatory Day had been her home being attacked. Bill Frost stood behind her, his mouth wide open in horror. "That... that can't be Zach. Zach would never hurt anyone. He just... wouldn't. That can't be my brother..." Dearka stopped in mid punch and took a few deep breaths.

"It's not your brother. He may share your name and your genes... but he's not your brother. Not anymore. If you keep thinking of him like family, misguided or misled, you're going to die. And he'll be the one who kills you, because he doesn't even remember you. He's not aware that he has a family and frankly, given how fucked up he is, the idea of family probably doesn't make a lot of sense to him other than to chalk up a way to rationalize why so many victims share the same house." Dearka whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of repressed emotion. Bill looked at him, his own expression tight with conflict. He didn't think people were lying to him about who Zacharis had become... but he didn't want to believe them either. How could sweet little Zach, who didn't even smash flies... be killing hundreds of thousands of people who were totally innocent of anything but being born slightly different? It was impossible. But it was happening right in front of his eyes.

Kira and Lacus stood together on the bridge of the Archangel and watched the scene silently. Kira could feel Lacus shaking by his side with the effort of maintaining a calm and determined outer facade. He gripped her hand tightly, squeezing it every so often to remind her that he was there, with her, for her. His own insides were twisted up in knots, his breathing was ragged and he could feel the wetness in his eyes... and he'd never even lived in the PLANTS. Not except for the brief time he'd spent there recuperating after he and Athrun fought the last time. Still, he had little but fond memories of being there, and now those fond memories were being attacked by the reality on the screen in front of him. He knew that for Lacus it would have to be infinitely worse... this was her home, her friends, her very life that was being attacked. This was Heliopolis all over again. And they could do nothing but watch. They were close... but in the fifty minutes that it was going to take them to get to deployment range, who knew how many tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands or millions of innocent Coordinators would die? The new enemy machine had demonstrated that it carried nuclear missiles when it used one on the ZAFT fourth defense line. Why Frost had refrained from just nuking the PLANT was beyond both of their comprehensions, but they were thankful for the providence. Just like they were thankful for the more than four hours of inactivity Frost had indulged in for an unknown reason after bypassing the fourth defense line.

"We won't let him get away with this." Kira told Lacus in a whisper. "If I've ever meant any promise I ever made to you, I mean that. This will be the last confrontation between Frost and us."

"Thank you, Kira... but I'm not worried about just Frost. Frost has always been just a symptom of the wider problem." Lacus replied. "It tears my heart to even think it, but while this is a tragedy of the greatest possible magnitude, putting a final end to Frost won't mean a thing if we don't come up with a solid plan for bringing peace. We've tried talking and all that results in is arguments and mutual disdain. We've tried force, and now we have the current situation. There must be a better solution than the total destruction of one side or the other's ability to wage war, but I must admit, I'm stumped for thinking of one. Even Sai has more of a plan than we do, misguided as he is." Lacus paused for a few moments and then squeezed her eyes shut as she brushed at them with the back of her free hand, trying to soak up the moisture that was beading at the edges of her eyes before it could become fully visible to everyone else on the bridge. "I'm... I'm just so frustrated right now. Everything I try ends up in failure or pain and suffering. Not just for me, but those I care about the most deeply and millions of other people besides. I'm not a very good leader, am I? I've only led people further into hatred and despair, giving them false hope..."

Lacus had been cut off in her increasingly depressed recriminations by Kira turning away from the screen and clamping his own free hand over her mouth. Everyone else was still far too absorbed in what was happening on the screen to really notice what was going on between the two Coordinators standing on one side of the bridge. "Don't, Lacus." Kira murmured. _Don't let me ever, ever hear you say something so incredibly stupid ever again. You are about the furthest from a bad leader I've ever seen. The path you are leading us on is hard to tread at times, and yes, tragedy and death do hound us mercilessly... but that is not your fault. It's merely the nature of the path we chose to walk. Chose, Lacus. We follow you because we chose to, because we believe in the ideals and goals you have. You chose to make a stand against the wrongness and corruption in the world and we all took heart from your example. No hope you have ever given has been false. Only by thinking such negative and defeatist thoughts have you EVER done anything remotely despicable. _The intensity of Kira's thoughts made them burn like red hot coals in her mind.

_But..._ She tried to counter the blazing pure faith in her and her cause that flowed through their link like molten lava. With very little success... it was all but impossible to even feel, much less think straight, in the face of such an emotional deluge. _But look at everything that is happening! We haven't managed to accomplish any of my goals! The war is worse now than it ever was before... the Moon is about to be subjected to total war, and a madman is running loose in the PLANTS! The proposed plan for peace is a death sentence for the PLANTS... all we've done is back everyone even further into a corner!_

_We? That Isolation Plan is Sai's doing, not yours. He has obviously been planning it out for some time now, to be able to implement it so soon. But we really don't need to be worrying about it... the PLANTS will never agree to it, right? That gives us the freedom to come up with a counter plan... any plan will be better than that travesty. I feel like we've confronted this issue before, but everyone is entitled to a crises of faith every now and again... thats what friends and companions are for, to help you through the tough times. Like you said earlier... we have to keep our goal simple. Stopping the war. That's all we need to worry about. Right now, step one is stopping Frost. Once we do that, we can focus all our attention on the next obvious step, whatever that happens to be at the time. And so forth and so on until all obvious steps towards peace have been taken. I've the strong feeling that well before we run out of obvious steps, we'll run out of war._ Kira was amazingly calm and sincere. She could sense the inner turmoil that watching Frost attack the colony was stirring up inside him, but by far the greater part of him was as solid and unshakable as the core of the world itself. She leaned for head forward and rested it on his shoulder.

_So we really are working for a real purpose, even if we can't see what it is and have no real idea what it is?_

_Of course. That's what people have always done. Making a plan is all well and good, but no plan can account for all eventualities, all variables. Some of us are better at stumbling through the mire of uncertainty and doubt than others, but in reality, we're all lost in the same dark cave. We have a purpose... what we're doing, the fighting, the suffering we endure... it has meaning. It's for a greater cause. How do I know? I don't. I believe though. And that's more than good enough for me. And for everyone else here._ Kira quieted for a moment, thinking some private thoughts. _ A long time ago, people used to think that if enough people all believed the same thing at the same time, it would appear, even if it hadn't been real before. Scientifically impossible, of course, but the concept does have merit, I think. Already there are millions of people who believe as we do, and that number is growing every day. All of us believe in a peaceful solution for this war... we have to be getting close to that critical level where one will occur, don't you think?_

_You make something so silly sound so reasonable. _Lacus rubbed a half tear out of her eye. _I think I'll have to clean it up a bit before I put that out over the radiowaves, or else I might be broadcasting from a small room with padded walls in the future, soundness of your argument notwithstanding. Thank you, Kira._

_It's my primary purpose in life._ He finished the thought with a projection of just how content he was with that idea.

"You two have been pretty quiet." Murrue noted, looking over at Kira and Lacus, who weren't even looking at the main screen anymore, while it showed the ruby blooms of secondary explosions through the thick glass of November Eight.

"No, Ms. Ramius, we've been discussing some very important matters." Lacus replied serenly. She turned her gaze back towards the main view screen, her eyes fading into the washed out glaze of a SEED possessed individual. Kira noticed the obvious physical manifestation and gulped slightly... he hadn't realized Lacus had the ability as well... though to be honest her SEED didn't seem to operate on the same level his or Athruns did, from what he could tell by looking at her. Nothing else physical seemed to change with Lacus... not until the reassuring brush of her mind against his almost sent him reeling across the room, and caused every other person on the bridge to wince and jerk around to look at Lacus in surprise.

Beep. _What the HELL was that!? Did someone just die over there or something? I nearly jumped out of my skin just now and Ysak just about keeled over unconscious!_ Katie's mental voice shouted in Lacus's mind. Lacus did not immediately reply, her own mind still recovering from the explosion of lilac light that had seared through her mind with no warning whatsoever after she broke off her conference with Kira. She'd felt something like this once, before, while witnessing first hand the tragedy of Jachin Due... but back than she'd had little more than a heightened sense for what people in the battle were feeling, since she'd had no idea about her Newtype powers then. Now, when she was actively using them... well, apparently whatever had happened to her really, really boosted her powers, to the point where she was inadvertantly broadcasting to everyone even her slightest thought. She tried to clamp down on this worrying thought, but even that mental action had reprecussions, the slamming up of her mental shields sending out a ripple of psychic force like a bomb exploding underwater. She could hear Katie's shriek of discomfort over the audio line, and even all the non-newtypes on the bridge were looking distinctly uncomfortable, like they were dealing with migraines.

She felt herself slipping out of SEED mode, though she wasn't sure how she knew, given that she hadn't even realized she'd been slipping into it. She took hold of the micro-instants before she returned to normal to focus a single directed thought. _Frost... we're coming for you._

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Frost paused, his fingers spasming on his controls. It felt like someone had just taken a sledgehammer of pure sonic energy to his skull... for a moment he thought ZAFT had deployed some new weapon system and knocked the Judgement on its ass, his world was shaking so much. Then he realized it was just his eyes that were jittery, because his mind was fritzing out again. He bellowed a wordless denial and fought with all his might to retain consciousness... he wasn't going to fall for the same trick twice. To his delight, the feeling of shaking quickly faded, and his vision steadied. He found that he was still standing, completely undamaged, the Judgement right where he'd left it, in the midst of trampling some sort of business complex into dust and rubble, some of which was drawn out through the gaping rent he'd blown in the side of the PLANT in a vortex of whipping winds. A much despised and desired voice echoed in his mind.

"Coming for me!?" Frost cried, his frustrations of the past few hours adding fuel to the already blazing conflagration of hate he felt for his enemies. "Nobody comes for me! It is I who comes for you, Lacus Clyne!" Frost twisted the Judgement around and ignited the thrusters, powering the Judgement up in an ungainly climb towards the rent, the molten thruster wash ignited a massive inferno behind him so that the Judgement seemed to be vomited forth like a volcanic eruption from the face of the PLANT. "You'll pay for your recent witchery and all your past crimes as well. Today must be the day of our reckoning! I will not stand for your interference anymore, Pink!" He knew there was much more to be done before the PLANT would begin to break apart, but a new priority had eclipsed his apocalyptic visions... with the destruction of Pink and her ilk, a mortal blow would be dealt not only to the PLANTS, but to all of the forces who were arrayed against him, even the ones that did not currently realize they were. It would be a fitting beginning to his crusade against humanity to be able to hang Pink's head from the outer hatch of the Judgement and let all of humanity flee before him with her eyes staring wide to watch.

The Judgement tore back out through the rent in November 8's skin like a demon being birthed from hell, firey streamers of exhaust flickering and flaring in the cyclone winds being sucked out of the PLANT into the infinite vacuum of space. His targeting sensors swept the area frantically, while his eyes darted about almost as badly as they had during the recent seizure, desperate to find the focus of his hate. THERE! There she was, he could feel her. She was trying to hide from him now, but he could somehow taste his way back to her, following the subtle harmonics of a emotion he couldn't even recognize. She was in a ship, bearing down on him from some distance away. The Archangel and its associated meatbags, no doubt. Frost smiled... it would be good to put paid to them as well. "You cannot hide. You cannot run. You cannot fight. Pink... Pink... Pink... all you can do now, is die." Frost shook his head with every repitition of her name, like a dog worrying at a particularly tasty bone. His fingers danced across his controls as he called up information on his enemy.

"What will you do, O Pink? What strategem will you employ, when your face is to your home and I stand betwixt you and all you hold dear? Will you attack me head on? Or will you try to divert me from my destruction... drive me away from these deceptively fragile hourglasses? Or is it something else entirely?" Frost mused, not really listening to himself. "Advancing at flank speed. All weapons primed, no doubt all those damn pilots already in their damned machines, frothing at the injustice they perceive. There's really only one way to do this, isn't there?" Frost trailed off in a low chuckle as his skin shivered with anticipation. He stamped down even harder on the thrust pedals and sent the Judgement hurtling towards the two warships bearing down on him, cycling his "Brilliant Justice" 300cm positron cannon and "Gottfried's Maul" sextuple cluster of 75cm high energy beam cannons to charging to full power. He would meet them head on and annihilate them in the inferno light of his mighty hatred. He was already smiling, cracking the frozen spittle on his cheeks and sending flakes of water dust shimmering through the air.

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"The enemy mobile... warship... thing..." The CIC commander trailed off, unsure of how to classify the enemy now accelerating towards them.

"It's got arms, legs and a head. It's now officially a mobile suit. Just a very big one. Designate target as F-Prime." Waltfeld cut in, noting the mans dicomfiture.

"Very well, sir. Target F-Prime is accelerating towards us after exiting from November 8. Damage to November 8 is severe but not terminal at this point in time. Target appears to be operating at maximum combat power and is making no attempts at evasion or defense. Estimated time to optimal weapons range is currently ten minutes and will likely be less as F-Prime's velocity increases. Preliminary sensor scans have come back with an initial report on the armament of the enemy." the CIC officer reported. He paused for a moment in shock as he read over the list of detected weapons once more. He finally managed to find his voice again, though there was a more than easily discernable quaver in it now. "Primary weapon systems include a positron cannon similar in caliber to our Lohengrin, as well as six relatively small caliber Gottfried class high energy beam cannons. The boxy launchers on the shoulders are typical of the sort used to contain tactical nuclear cruise missiles prior to launch, there are still seven unfired missiles by our count. Other weapons include four dual 120mm gatling cannon turrets, anti-ship and anti-vehicle missile launchers in great numbers and a comprehensive CIWS network, likely automated. Finally, it appears to be equipped with a large multitude of beam based "Gun Barrel" pods, much like the ones used by the Moebius Zero class of mobile armor."

"So, in short, what you're saying is that one guy in that death machine out there has roughly the equivalent firepower of this capital warship, is that what I'm hearing?" Alkire groaned.

"If you take the nukes into account, he actually outguns us by a significant margin." Murrue replied, her brow furrowed pensively. "Not only that, but we have to assume the pilot is of super-human skill, and utterly without conscience. And while that giant... thing... isn't exactly balletic, it's still more agile than the Archangel or the Kusangi, and likely better armored. I don't think theres any question of making this a ship to ship duel... we wouldn't have a chance in hell."

"I guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way then." Athrun said, flashing a confident grin for the benefit of the bridge crew, even though his guts were churning like mad. "Man and machine vs monster and machine. Last time he had the advantage of speed and maneuverability against us... thats not the case now. Maybe it's a little skewed to look at it this way, but by flying that behemoth, I believe Frost has more limited than empowered himself."

"Yeah, you're right." Kira picked up on his friend's apparent confidence. Inside he was also more than a bit of a mess... I mean, sure they had speed and maneuverability and numbers even... but how many gnats did it take to kill a tarantula? He had a feeling about this, and it wasn't entirely positive. But he couldn't let other people see that, especially Lacus, who needed as much of a confidence boost as he could give her. Kira smiled and pushed off from his position, floating swiftly towards the door as Athrun did likewise. "We'll be relying on your support, Ms. Murrue. Somehow, I don't think the Liberty has the punch to put a solid end to that monstrosity."

"You set him up, kid and we will take him down. You can count on that." Waltfeld promised, turning to look away from his comm screen to the two Gundam pilots on his ship. He muted the comm screen and gave them an appraising look. "All right, we're all former ZAFT soldiers here, so lets cut the bullshit. How screwed are we?"

"Are you kidding?" Ysak made as if to spit, then remembered that he was in microgravity. "The Duelist is just fine against any normal mobile suit, or even most warships. But it took me forever and a half to beat through the Merciless's defenses, and this machine is most likely more advanced, with a better pilot to boot. Common sense tells me we should turn around, retro boost and retreat until we can come back with overwhelming force. Like twenty-thirty ships, with accompanying mobile suit forces."

"Mir and I have got one motherfucker of a damned big gun. Emphasis on "one". He's got at least four or five, plus I'm betting he'll be sporting one of those blasted lightwave barrier defense shields. This is not going to be a pretty fight." Dearka added. He sighed. "Despite saying that, I don't see how its a fight we can avoid. If we retreat now, we're as much as consigning November 8 and who knows how many other colonies to destruction, while we gather an overwhelming force certain to be able to take him down. I hate to say it, but I think this is another one of the status quo for us... go off half cocked, totally unprepared, with no real discernable plan, and hope to skill, luck and pure balls to the wall blind panic to make it work."

"That's about what I figured." Waltfeld sat back in his chair and closed his eye, rubbing his brow with his biological arm. "Well, I suppose you'd both be getting to your mechanical steeds then, shouldn't you? If we're going to make a bollocks of this mess, sooner started, sooner finished."

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The Judgement's threat display screen suddenly bloomed into a frenzy of new colors, as the launch bay doors on the rapidly nearing Archangel and Kusanagi yawned open and began to disgorge the so called champions of peace and justice. The Liberty, piloted by the detestably persistent Kira Yamato. The Righteous, helmed by the insufferable arch-devil Athrun Zala. The Grand Buster, containing the pitiful Dearka Elsman and his weak kneed paramour, Miriallia Haww. And the Duelist, controlled by the laughable Ysak Joule. Combined with the Archangel and the Kusanagi, they represented everything he stood against... peace, love, comradeship, charity, sympathy, understanding... the true core of weakness humanity allowed to fester within its soul. He didn't see the pink Strike Rouge among their complement, though there were a few M-4 Guardians, piloted by insignificant gnats whom no one could be bothered to know the names of. "Oh well. I'll deal with cat-eyes Cagalli later." Frost had no idea he was speaking out loud, though it hardly mattered, since there was no one else to hear.

Tenative beam blasts from the two capital warships began streaking through the void towards him, the bright green of Gottfried shots mixing with the short, fat discs representing Valiant railcannon rounds. Frost had to give them their due... whatever their personal failings, the crews of the warships knew their business. The first few volleys went wide, but they found their range within a minute and soon the Judgement shivered and shuddered ever so slightly under a continual pounding of bombarding energy sufficient to destroy almost any lesser construction. However, for all their tremendous force, the Valiants were still unable to penetrate the cross-weave, triple layer phase shift armor of the Judgement, thicker and stronger even than the armor that had protected the GENESIS station. The Gottfrieds would have been an entirely different story, were it not for the powerful geischmedig-panzer magnetic field deflectors that warded the Judgement from all sorts of magnetically sheathed plasma and charged ion beam attacks. Green energy warped and splashed like trealcy molasses as the beams were routed around the Judgement by the field deflectors. "You'll need to do a little better than that!" Frost crowed. He blasted back enthusiastically with his own Gottfried cannons, not aiming with any particular care, but the return fire still forced his foes to enter evasive maneuvers, which at least kept them from thinking he was going to let them passively shoot at him.

His keen eyes and keener sensors soon picked out the motions he had been anticipating from the moment the ships started firing upon him. Beneath the hanger doors of the Archangel, two smaller doors swung upon and stubby muzzles moved forward and locked into place, while similar looking weapons extruded from the sides of the Kusanagi. A brilliant blue-white glow grew within the cannon barrels, and Frost imagined he could see the bloody red sparks of ion energy fizzling around the muzzles as the Lohengrin class positron cannons cycled to full charge. His finger rested tightly against the switch that would sheath the Judgement in an impenetrable lightwave barrier... though the geischmedig-panzer deflectors were technically rated to withstand even Lohengrin class weapons, there was no sense in being foolhardy, not when he could ensure his defense. The Lohengrins fired, sending their blue-red-white blasts of annihilating charged particles hurtling at him. He flipped the switch and the Judgement disappeared behind a hazy aqua-teal shimmer, which weathered the four positron blasts like an umbrella repelled a light drizzle. "But that's nothing less than they expected, isn't it?" Frost mused. "They cannot get in, but neither can I get out... or even see out. They're crafty bastards, full of tricks and deceptions... too bad they won't work." He flicked the switch again and dropped the shield.

Just as he'd expected, his foes had used the seconds of time while he was blind behind his lightwave barrier to enact some sort of strategy. The mobile suits had spread out so that they were coming at him in two formations, one "above" and one "below", while the two ships occupied his "front" arc. Classic pincer attack, though of course in the directionless void of space, terms such as "surrounded" or "flanked" tended to lose some of their meaning. Frost's breathing started to grow slightly more rapid as his hands danced and leapt across his controls, while his eyes darted in their sockets as he took in more than a half dozen screens of data at once. He swung the Judgement's right arm and primary armament to bear on the Archangel, with the left arm and Gottfrieds being alloted to keeping the Kusanagi busy... preferrably by blowing them into melted scrap. The Judgement seemed to erode like a sand sculpture under a hose spray as the forty eight "Gun Barrel" wire guided weapon pods depolyed along their tethers. He painted the ships with his anti-vehicle and anti-ship missile targeting systems, while keying each dual 120mm gatling cannon turret to a different Gundam. He left his CIWS on automatic and locked his nuclear missiles to a button out of the way but still within easy reach. It would be a waste to use one of the colony-killers on a mere two ships, but given his history with them, he didn't discount the possibilty of needing the ultimate measure.

Multiple crosshairs danced and flickered across his primary displays as the automatic controls acquired and began locking on to their assigned targets. He smirked as he swung up both arms and curled his fingers tightly against the triggers. "You came for me... now its time for you to receive me, Pink! I hope you can appreciate how good this is going to feel..."

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Kira darted and wove the Liberty through the sleetstorm of beam blasts and cannon traces that arced his way. His nerves were quivering like high tension wires as he poured all his considerable concentration and feelings into just one goal... surviving the assualt long enough to close to an effective range with the monstrous mobile suit. He fired a few desultory blasts with his ranged weapons whenever he had a spare second, but given that the vastly more powerful weapons aboard the Archangel and Kusanagi were unable to ruffle Frost's feathers, he held little hope that his would do much. G-forces tightened his restraining straps across his chest as he entered a series of maneuevers that an unfamiliar observer might liken to a skydiving man dying of a uncontrollable brain spasm. Still, despite how ungainly it looked, that same observer would have to admit the effectiveness, as not one stray green needle of beam energy nor a single red hot cannon shell touched the shimmering gold form of the Liberty, though some passed so close they left blistered scars on the paint scheme. Kira reflected that it was good they were able to attack in such comparative strength... things would be much worse if Frost wasn't forced to divide his considerable armament among so many possible foes. Of course, if he'd been saner, Frost probably would have realized this and focused his fire, such that no one, not even Kira or Athrun could avoid it all, but thankfully that tactical revelation seemed beyond his grasp.

"He certainly doesn't seem concerned with conserving his firepower or ammunition, does he?" Athrun commented, flying a few kilometers to Earthward of Kira and slightly "below" him. They were "diving" down towards the head of the Judgement as it flew vertically through space, while Dearka, Ysak and the greater portion of the M-4 forces came "up" from beneath the Judgement's feet. Already some of the M-4's had been hit, with one destroyed and two damaged and forced to withdraw from the main course of the battle. There were so many beam blasts and other projectiles flying through the near region of space that it was almost impossible to keep track of them all... truly, chaos wasn't even close to an adequate description.

"Typical BCPU behavior. Cray was much the same way on Purgatory day. It's almost like they don't have an ammo counter, or they just don't believe they can actually run out of bullets before they run out of enemies." Miriallia said, her image on the comm screens of Kira, Athrun and Ysak being jerky and unstable... it was hard enough for the more agile Liberty, Righteous and Duelist to stay out of the way of the Judgement's fire... for Dearka, in the lumbering Grand Buster, it was pure hell, and taking ALL of his attention to enact. Fire blossomed briefly far below Kira and Athrun, while Miriallia shook more vigorously as a burst of 120mm shells caught the Grand Buster's left shoulder and sent it tumbling for a moment. "Oh damn..." Miriallia whispered, though she wasn't reacting to her most recent battering. The Judgement seemed to suddenly grow arching wings of pale grey, as hundreds of missiles shot from launchers on its back and legs and tore towards the Kusanagi and Archangel, the contrails so thick even in the non-atmosphere of space that they all momentarily lost sight of the Judgement. The space surrounding the warships suddely became a lot brighter as their CIWS weapons chattered into action, swatting scores of missiles from the void. The Gundam pilots helped as best they were able, finally presented with something their ranged weapons could harm, but there were just so many missiles, not even they could get them all. Explosions dotted the hulls of the warships like chickenpox sores.

A positron blast carved through the smoke cloud and cleanly clipped the port side Valiant from the Archangel, severing it in a single sharp flash that left a molten scar along that flank of the Archangel ablative armor and sent the entire ship juddering to the right. The anti-beam depth charges both warships were launching in constant volleys proved effective in absorbing most of the incoming Gottfried blasts from Frost, but one attenuated beam still managed to carve a meter wide black scar across the bow of the Kusanagi, not deeply enough to penetrate the armor but enough to injure several crew as equipment overloaded under the heat load and exploded nearby.

"Not going to happen!" Ysak suddenly shouted, the Duelist slipping past a particularly dense net of gun barrel blasts to soar ahead of Dearka and the M-4's. Ysak's dual 57mm beam rifle spat four times, reducing four gun barrels to clouds of debris as he punched into close range of the Judgement. Ysak was just swapping out his gun for his sword when Frost, not sitting idly by, retasked all four 120mm dual gatling cannons, which almost instantly re-oriented on Ysak and blasted the Duelist backwards under a withering onslaught of shells, stunning him under hundreds of repeated impacts and scouring his rifle and shoulder weapons from the Duelist's frame. Still, the re-tasking eased the pressure on everyone else just slightly, and that was far more than enough. Kira and Athrun moved almost as one, their multi-target capability allowing them to wipe out more than half the remaining gun barrels in a single white hot instant of crisscrossing precision fire. The 120mm cannons swung back towards them, but forwarned by seeing what had happened to Ysak, they were more than ready and weathered the assault behind their shields.

The M-4's concentrated their efforts on clearing out the remaining wire guided detached gun barrels, wisely figuring that while they were elite pilots, among the best in Orb, there were simply some fights they weren't ready for, and getting in close to the Judgement was one of those fights. By the time Kira and Athrun had broken free of the Judgement's cannon fire, all the gun barrels had been picked off by the Orb aces. They continued to keep their distance, activating their slave links to the master LRR (Long Range Radar) array carried by the Grand Buster. This allowed them to be fed far more precise targeting data from the powerful CIC (Combat Information Control) computers the Grand Buster carried, and also allowed them to coordinate their fire to a degree otherwise impossible through mere voice communication. "Whatever else he may be, my kid brother sure ain't no slouch in a mobile suit." Bill Frost gritted, watching the Liberty, Righteous and Duelist frantically maneuver for a solid attack position within close range of the Judgement, something Zacharis seemed to have little enough trouble preventing, as he sent concentrated bursts of cannon fire to swat first one, then the other Gundams, keeping them spinning off balance.

"Yeah, we're not that lucky." Dearka panted, finally able to catch his breath now that he wasn't throwing the Grand Buster all over space and creation trying to stay alive. "Should see him when he's in his original mobile suit... think kinda like this, but more up close and personal." Dearka sent a few blasts from his hyper impulse cannon and 400mm shotgun towards the Judgement, but it was more just to keep his fingers occupied than because he expected to cause any damage. His expectations were met... the hyper-impulse beam swerved like a startled beast and veered well away from the Judgement's left shoulder, while the shotgun shells struck easily through the beam bending geischmedig-panzer fields, exploding in a series of bright flashes, which rapidly faded to reveal that the metallic skin of the Judgement wasn't even dented. "Fuck me..." Dearka whistled. It was one thing to watch other people's weapons bounce ineffectively off something, quite another, in some visceral way, to watch your own attacks likewise come to naught. "Getting anywhere with analyzing that beast? I'm sure Yzak and company would just love a revealing update."

"Hush, I'm working on it." Miriallia replied, sweating as she struggled to keep on top of not only her sensor scanning of the Judgement, but of providing targeting information for the M-4's, and maintaining the battle communications network with the Kusanagi and Archangel. "Damn it..." She muttered. "Damn it!" she pounded a fist into her arm rest in anger, furious at how long the procedure was taking.

"Calm down... we're not exactly on the brink of death here. We have at least thirty seconds before we're all going to die." Dearka attempted to joke, but even he realized it was a feeble attempt.

"If you don't have anything constructive to say, just shut the hell up!" Miriallia suggested in reply. "There! Done... all right, weaknesses... weaknesses... there's got to be one somewhere..."

Dearka winced as he watched the Duelist get blasted head over heels backwards, just a few dozen meters from entering sword range of the Judgement. Yzak would be feeling that in the morning, assuming any of them lived that long. "I know you don't want to be bothered..." he began, slowly.

"HAH! There we go. All right, listen up everyone... this isn't going to be easy." Miriallia suddenly exclaimed. "Don't waste your time trying to get past the defenses... those deflector shields are double layered, they'll stop even a beam sword with no problem. However, they don't cover one hundred percent of the mobile suit... whenever it fires its own beam weaponry, the muzzles of its weapons become exposed, for about one and a quarter seconds. If my calculations are correct..." _and my dear wishes._ she thought to herself. "... an explosion in the positron charge banks should also take out the primary geischmedig-panzer control computer on the starboard side. That'll leave that entire side open to attack for at least a minute, while he reroutes control through the back up computers."

"Okay... shoot the weapon... I can do that, no problem." Yzak said, with a feral grin creeping across his face. Miriaillia was shaking her head even as he spoke.

"I'm afraid that won't do it. You have to shoot directly up the barrel of the Lohengrin... if you don't hit the charging bank up near the shoulder joint all you'll do is disable the weapon itself. Also, unless you hit the charging bank when it's transfering power, it won't do anything other than prevent the weapon from being fired. Since the deflectors don't drop until the weapon fires, that basically means..."

"That we have to shoot down the barrel while its firing." Athrun finished for her, sounding apalled.

"So... wait a moment here, let me get this straight..." Dearka struggled to keep his voice even, and not degenerate into a shriek of disbelief. "We have to position ourselves dead in line of a weapon that can easily destroy all of our mobile suits with a single shot, wait for it to fire, and then shoot up what amounts to a two and a half foot wide tube to hit the charging bank at the far end? And live of course."

"I said it wasn't going to be easy..." Miriallia said in a small voice.

"Not easy... it's suicide, plain and simple." Bill Frost replied. "Even if you could get the timing down to be able to fire while the weapon is discharging, theres no way in hell he's going to just let you hang there and line up a shot down his main gun barrel... you still have to deal with his other weapon systems!"

"What the hell else do you want me to say!?" Miriallia shot back. "When Blue Cosmos made that damn thing, they didn't fuck around when they designed its defenses. Like I said, its beam deflection shields are dual layered, and they go over cross-woven triple layer phase shift armor, powered by its own dedicated nuclear reactor. It's got enough EMP shielding to be standing next to a nuclear blast without ill effect. The thing is as close to impenetrable as I've ever seen... just about the only weakness it has is the one I already told you about. That and it lacks many beam weapons, so it will run out of ammo periodically. That's it!"

"What about the Earthshaker?" Dearka asked, grasping at any line he could. Miriallia gave him a doubtful frown, even though she knew he couldn't see it.

"Maybe. Assuming he doesn't see us set up and use his lightwave barrier. But I can't gaurantee even the Earthshaker will be able to penetrate his armor."

"Won't hurt to try." Kira decided. "If nothing else, it should keep him guessing. Athrun, do you think you can keep me covered while I take the shot? No offense, but I'm the best shot here." No one argued, though Dearka did notice a dissatisfied look on Ysak's face. "All right... lets do this..."

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"What in all the names of hell do they think they're doing?" Frost wondered idly. Some, lesser people, might have been distressed at the loss of the gun barrel wire guided weapons and the desperately low levels of remaining ammunition for not only his CIWS system, but for the constantly chattering 120mm cannons and his missile tubes. However, Frost was inclined to positive thinking... true, his enemies had proven to be their usual frustratingly skilled and lucky selves, but things were still greatly in his favor. They hadn't managed to even marr the surface layer of his armor, while he'd killed at least one mobile suit and damaged several more, including the foolish Gundams who'd tried to get in close with him, not realizing that it simply made it that much easier for him to hit them at close range. Admittedly, their phase shift armor kept them from messy deaths, but he knew them to be much less shock resistant than he was. Also, he'd inflicted damage on both capital ships, both of whom were rapidly running out of defensive measures to employ against him. The inside of his cockpit was approaching a balmy forty degrees fahrenheit and his vital signs were up at their normal levels for midly strenuous physical activity... he still didn't count himself as worked up to any significant degree, but they were doing much better than the pathetic ZAFT defenses. For all his physical calm though, his emotions were almost boiling over... so many wrongs were so close to being righted. The universe was about to be restored to its natural, rightful order... just as soon as he wiped out Pink and her allies.

His warning sirens suddenly blared and his heart rate jumped as he jerked the Judgement into what amounted to a sideways flinch that was turned into a lazy tumble by a massive explosion as an Earthshaker shell struck the Judgement on its port side, about mid-way between shoulder and hip. His teeth bared themselves in a fierce grimace as he chided himself for allowing his maniacal, overconfident side to unwittingly take over for a while... his foes, while hateful, could never be less than respected, for their tenacity if nothing else. They would not go quietly to the grave. He glanced over at his damage control screens and his grin grew wider, in a combination of enjoyment and rage. He'd lost the top two layers of armor over thirty percent of his left side, and the shock of impact had jarred loose several electrical connections and other internal systems. Nothing his back-ups couldn't compensate for, but for the next fifteen seconds or so, he was unable to fire the Gottfried cannons and the four 120mm gatling cannons on the left arm and leg. Inconvenient, but nothing more. He would have to be mindful not to get hit again in that spot, or anywhere else, hopefully, but his foes had given him their best shot, and it hadn't even come close to stopping him.

"So, we want to play sniper, do we?" Frost chided playfully. "I can play that game too, you know." He corrected the tumble imparted to the Judgement and slowly righted the machine, orienting it to face directly towards the Grand Buster. Frost made no move to protect his left side... both as a pyschological ploy and because his foes could scan him themselves, no matter what he did, and they would learn of the so called damage then anyway. Foolishly, the Grand Buster was merely hanging in place, frantically reloading its artillery cannon even as it strained to recover its balance, disrupted when it fired the massive weapon without the benefit of the ground to brace on and absorb the recoil. Frost frowned for a moment, expecting a trap or some other strategem from the other Gundams or the two ships, but there was no follow up attack... his foes were apparently using the time gained from his recovery to regroup and re-organize. Stupid of them, not to press their advantage, but their strategy did make sense as well, since their individual attacks had been uniformly less than successful. They would let their big gun blow a hole in his defenses, and take advantage of the opening when it came. It might even work... he knew as well as they that if his geischmedig-panzer shields were to go down for even a few seconds, their beam weapons would tear him apart.

"Of course, your plan has one simple flaw... if the big gun can't take out my defenses, your last hope is gone. You've all gambled, but you already played your trump card, and it didn't cut it." Frost chuckled victoriously as he sighted in with his Lohengrin on the drifting Grand Buster. He watched the mobile suit slam another shell home into the breech of the gun and raise it back to its shoulder. "That's right... struggle... squirm... make it fun!" The Grand Buster fired, and Frost snatched manual control of his right side 120mm cannons and targeted the artillery shell and opened fire, striving to blow it out of space before it could hit him. 120mm cannon shells sparked and skipped as they struck the far larger munition and either were smashed to fragments or exploded harmlessly off the thick front face of the shell, armored to compensate for the massive stresses of being fired. Frost's expression turned into a death's head grin as the Earthshaker round slammed into the middle of the Judgement's "stomach" region. Sparks shot and electrical arcs crackled across several panels and displays in his cockpit, and various alarm sirens warbled, blared and hooted damage indications at him as the Judgement briefly folded up like a man who had been kicked in the belly. Frost was thrown heavily against his restraints, but he ignored the strobing lights, light smoke and smell of overheated wiring, keeping his right arm on target. With a vindictive snarl, he smashed down on the trigger and sent a lance of annihilating light at his wounder.

Frost's mouth dropped open as several things happened almost at the same time. Just as his Lohengren finished charging up and unleashed its furious beam into the void, the Liberty appeared in the middle of his target icon and stopped dead. Frost was shocked that Yamato would do something so stupid... his vaunted mobile suit would be less than a moth in a bonfire compared to the destructive power of the Lohengrin... even if he took the beam full on, it wouldn't stop the same beam from destroying his friend as well. Yamato calmly raised his puny dual 57mm beam rifle and Frost perceived that the bastard fired off a shot, but couldn't get a visual, because of two things. One was the colossal strobe effect from the Lohengrin beam leaving the muzzle of the cannon, the other was the Righteous suddenly appearing in front of the Liberty in a brilliant display of precision timing, shield raised and braced. Frost was stupefied... his enemies were willingly placing their necks on the chopping block, even as the axe descended! It defied all belief, but he couldn't deny the evidence of his own eyes and sensors... Zala and Yamato were committing suicide, right in front of his eyes! What happened next was completely unexpected... suddenly the power supply icon on the Lohengrin system status display board just disappeared, at the same time as a massive internal explosion shorted out every light and screen in the cockpit except for the primaries.

"What the-" Frost started to swear, before he realized what must have happened. Maybe it wasn't something that normal people would think of, but neither he or his foes were exactly normal people. Truly, he had to admire them for their gall in making something that should have been impossible into a plan that was almost smooth in its execution. His back-up computers and displays were slowly humming to life, but Frost didn't need to look at them to know he was suddenly far more vulnerable than he had been ever before. On his primary screen, the Archangel and the Kusanagi both stopped their evasive maneuvers and oriented all their weapons on him. No doubt their damnable mobile suits were doing the same. "You think that's enough!?" Frost shouted, his arms stabbing out to either side, each thumb mashing down on a seperate plexiglass enclosed button, shattering the saftey interlock with ease. A new alarm siren blared and a ten minute countdown began blinking on a small LED panel, with the desgination plate of "Celerity System", much like the system his beloved Fury sported. Maybe the effect was less pronounced on a monster like the Judgement, but every little bit helped. The other button launched his nuclear missiles, since he'd slaved them all to the same trigger at the beginning of the fight. Frost's left hand scrabbled at the switches and dials that were the manual setting adjustments for the Celerity System, while his right jabbed at dozens of other buttons and switches, disabling saftey interlocks on all three reactors, launching flares, chaff and other disposable countermeasures, rerouting power from weapon systems to his thrusters and other tasks besides.

The Judgement seemed to explode into motion, dropping smoke flares and anti-beam depth charges like a dog shaking off water, even as the massive missile launchers on its shoulders vomited forth their deadly cargoes and fell away, now defunct. One missile each streaked directly at the two capital warships, while the other five quickly arced around and headed back for the PLANTS, their guidance systems pre-programmed to have them explode between the tightly packed colonies, thus ensuring the maximum damage per warhead. At the same time, the thrusters of the Judgement flared like small stars going supernova and the 100 meter tall mobile suit suddenly started accelerating at a punishing 10 G's, and only kept getting faster. Frost aimed what he had basically turned into the worlds largest and most expensive escape pod at the moon, roughly where he had sent the Fury. And then he sat back, crossed his arms across hs chest and frowned in impatience... he'd done everything he could, now he was forced to leave things in the hands of fate, something which had never been especially kind to him, but the choice wasn't his. "Bad luck... why do I always have such bad luck?"


	85. The Moon

Taking care of the seven nuclear missiles wasn't too hard for Kira and the others, despite the wildly different trajectories Frost had fired them on. Indeed, compared to such chaotic moments as the assualt on the PLANTS at Jachin Due or even the earlier moments of the fight against the Judgement, shooting down a mere seven missiles was far from climatic. Within 30 seconds all the missiles were little more than space debris, none having come closer than a few kilometers to their targets. Unfortunately, 30 seconds was more than enough time for the fleeing Judgement to accelerate to speeds not even the Liberty or the Righteous could match, even at maximum burn, and the massive machine kept on accelerating in a manner quite impossible for any unaugmented being to duplicate. Ten gravities of sustained thrust would cause even the most experienced of Natural pilots to black out within seconds without special compensation systems not common to most war machines, with Coordinators lasting only a slight bit longer, as the acceleration forced all the blood out of their central body systems and into their extremities. The Archangel and Kusanagi sent several volleys of fire at the fleeing Judgement, but were foiled by the excessive vomitation of countermeasures employed by Frost, or else deflected harmlessly as before from the still nigh impregnable defense systems of the Judgement.

"Blast it all, can we never have a conclusive engagement?!" Waltfeld swore bitterly, slamming his flesh and blood arm down on his armrest. He was careful not to do the same with his new mechanical arm, having accidentally put a rather impressive dent in a galley table earlier doing just that. "He shows up out of nowhere, destroys more than a dozen ZAFT warships, severely damages ZAFT military HQ, decimates November 8 and then cuts and runs the moment the fight turns against him! What happened to the supposedly insane freak who laughed in the face of death and had to be pulled away by grievous injury and the actions of his confederates? He was bad enough when he was like that... why do we have to deal with him when he's smart enough to retreat too? Damn it. Damn it!" Waltfeld forced himself to calm down and stop griping. "Tell me we've got his course plotted out!" he demanded of his bridge crew

"We do sir. Assuming he doesn't make any course changes... though at 10G accel, I don't see how he can... he's pretty much on what I'd call a collision course with the Moon." his sensor officer reported within seconds.

"And his estimated time of arrival?" Waltfeld prompted, his eye hooded as he thought furiously. "Helm, bring us about and put us on a following course as soon as our Mobile Suits have returned. Damage Control, I want emergency repairs on all vital systems to be complete within the next two hours. Flight Ops, channel every bit of power we can spare into the thrusters... he may have a head start on us, but I'll be damned if he's going to get away clean. Comms, get me the Archangel." he spat orders rapid fire, causing his crew to explode into action.

"Commander Waltfeld, this is Captain Ramius." Murrue said over the ship to ship line. "We're recovering our mobile suits and plotting a course to follow Frost. I'm assuming that you're doing the same."

"You'd assume right. As Miss Lacus says, Frost may not be the main problem, but he's been a big enough knife in our back for long enough that we cannot afford to let him get away again, not when we have him on the ropes." Waltfeld confirmed vehemently.

"Sir, ETA of the target to the Moon is slightly over eight hours." Waltfeld's sensor officer called out. Waltfeld waved an acknowledgement but kept his attention on the conference with Murrue.

"That agrees with my people's estimate as well." Murrue told him. "Chief Murdoch assures me that the Archangel can be there in ten hours and a few minutes, if he pushes the engines to their limits. We might have some corrective maintenance to do afterwards, but I think we're all in agreement that we cannot let this chance pass us by. Frost caused widespread destruction in that monster, but despite all its power, I believe he's actually made himself more vulnerable to us than if he'd stayed in the Fury. Given the damage he's taken already, assuming we can bring him to battle once more I have little doubt we will quickly overwhelm him, no matter the level of his ability."

"I'll race you there then. Last one to arrive has to pay for the victory party afterwards." Waltfeld grinned a feral grin he didn't truly believe in. Even after they disposed of the madman Frost, there was still the far larger problem of the war to consider. The Moon was due to become a major war zone in a matter of hours, and despite the size of the ZAFT invasion fleet, he couldn't feel confident that the extremely well built and reinforced defenses of the Lunar Fleet Bases would be overwhelmed in a matter of hours. They'd be following Frost right into the middle of what would likely be the climactic battle of the entire war... there was no telling what sort of shit would crop up then. There was also no use worrying about it right now, even though he couldn't stop himself from doing just that.

"I wonder what it'll look like when we get there..." Murrue mused, half to herself.

"It's gonna be ugly. Uglier than just about anything we've seen to date, barring Jachin Due and the GENESIS. Everything's going down to the wire for both sides... whichever side is the loser at the Moon is most likely going to be the loser overall, and everyone knows it." Waltfeld replied darkly. "Frankly, I don't believe the winning side is going to be in all that good of shape either, but thats academic."

Murrue stared at him for a long few moments. "What?" Waltfeld asked suspiciously.

"Which side are you rooting for, Andrew?" Murrue asked softly. "Who would you be happiest with if they won? ZAFT, I suppose, right?"

"Well... thats a reasonably personal question..." Waltfeld replied, taken slightly aback. "You're right... I would be happiest if ZAFT won. If I had to make a choice, which I really, really hope I don't, because if it comes down to it, if I'm the guy who has to make the call to grant one side or the other victory... I'm not sure I can stay happy with my choice. Oh, aye, if ZAFT wins it means people I know... friends of mine, comrades of mine, will live and continue to prosper... but at the same time thousands if not tens of thousands of Alliance personnel... friends or comrades of yours, likely, won't. I don't know quite what I'm trying to say, since what I want to say is that I want ZAFT to win because I think they're the more reasonable side... but I'm not entirely sure I believe that anymore." Waltfeld cast his gaze downwards for a few moments. "I guess that means I'll fall back onto solid plan B... I'll follow the lead of you and Miss Lacus. Hasn't steered me wrong yet."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Murrue said with a half smile. "I mean it... thanks, Andrew. Your faith and trust mean a lot to me and a lot to Lacus too." They stared at each other for several timeless seconds before both seemed to wake up at the same time, shaking themselves slightly as if coming out of a trance. "Very well, Commander Waltfeld, we will proceed with our pursuit as soon as we both finish recovering our Mobile Suits. Good hunting, Captain Ramius out."

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"Commander Borander, sir, we've received an update from the Homeland Defense Forces!" A junior officer floated urgently into the hanger bay of the _Charles Darwin_, the Nazca class destroyer that was carrying the Pulsar and the four Elementals of the Borander Team into combat against the dug in Lunar Defense Fleets. They were part of the second wave of four main force waves, with an additional two waves of reserves, one of which had been recently retasked to racing home to defend against the surprise attack by the so called Alliance superweapon. The first wave, which consisted of thirty teams of Mobile Suits... mostly GINNs and Guaizes... and attendant Laurasia and Nazca class support vessels, was due to engage the outer rings of the enemy defences within the next ten minutes, and the second wave would begin their attack ten minutes later, with the third and fourth waves following in half hour intervals. The second wave consisted of the cream of the ZAFT forces, twenty four teams, ten of which were all Elite teams with a healthy sprinkling of elites and ace-commanders among the other teams, all equipped with the new Elementals, plus the Pulsar piloted by Jeremiah himself. While the first wave's job was to draw the enemy out and begin the initial disruption of their defense, it was the task of the second wave to sweep all resistance before them and punch a hole entirely through the enemy lines if possible, allowing the third and fourth waves, which consisted of more GINNs and Guaizes, plus a scattering of Efreet and even a few retrofitted Grendels to land and begin the occupation of the enemy bases. Also coming in with the third and fourth waves were six regiments, that was nine thousand soldiers, of ZAFT infantry, who would take the battle to the interiors of the bases.

The junior officer was about to call out again when he caught sight of Ace-Commander Borander, who was currently occupied with a series of pre-flight tests for his unique Gundam. They weren't supposed to call it a Gundam, but there was no other appropriate word in common use for a customized, limited production, high performance command mobile suit. Most pilots in the second and later waves were conducting similar checks of their machines, running alignment tests on their sensors, calibrating their rangefinders, correcting deviations in their thrusters, all the myriad personal tweaks pilots always lavished upon their mechanical steeds before a battle, both to help them gain that microscopic edge that might bring them back alive when otherwise they would die, and to help them stop thinking about the fight they were about to be plunged into. But what stilled the junior officer's voice, what caused him to actually float face first into a container of missiles being loaded onto a nearby Air Elemental, was seeing how Commander Borander was conducting his pre-flights. He wasn't sitting in the cockpit, typing on a keyboard, or even standing at one of the larger portable consoles the technicians and mechanics used for running system checks. No, he was floating in midair about ten meters up, with scores of thin metallic threads protruding from his scalp and the flesh of his limbs, the threads uniformly led back into the absurdly tiny cockpit space of the Pulsar and disappeared out of the junior officer's sight.

"What the hell...?" the officer muttered in shock. He'd heard all sorts of wild stories about this Gundam... how it featured a control system completely unlike anything else ever seen before, how it could move just like a human being, how it could fly fast enough to fly rings around an Air Elemental and how it could stop even Positron blasts with its defensive mechanisms like it was nothing... but he hadn't lent them any more credit than he did to the usual hype about a Gundam. Sure, they were special, and damn powerful... but there was a limit to what he would believe. He was currently expanding that limit somewhat. "Sir? Commander Borander? Sir!?" he called again, mustering his nerve and recalling his purpose in the hanger spaces. He nearly jumped out of his skin at what happened next.

"What is it, Ensign?" Jeremiah Borander asked in an annoyed voice. He did not move, other than to speak. He didn't even open his eyes. But one arm of the Pulsar suddenly slipped free of its support bracket with a fluid twist the Ensign wasn't sure he could duplicate with his flesh and blood arm and pointed directly at him. There was a blur of motion too fast for even the Ensign, who was a Coordinator of course, to follow and suddenly he was not only staring at a pointing finger of the Pulsar, but he was nose to tip with a curved finger claw so narrow and sharp he couldn't see the blade edge on. "I'm a little busy here." Jeremiah continued, reigning in the uncharacteristic flash of anger which had prompted him to nearly skewer the offending insect... officer, he corrected himself sharply... that had interrupted his pre-battle synchronization with the Pulsar's NIC system.

"I... I... I can... see that, sir..." the Ensign babbled. He visibly gathered his wits and his courage. "M-message from the HDF, sir. Losses among the defense forces are severe. Major damage to ZMHQ (ZAFT Military HQ) and November 8. The PLANT remains structurally sound and can be repaired, though civilian casualties are high... estimates run into the tens of thousands, a significant fraction of the colony's population, due to the invasion of the habitent space by the enemy super-weapon..."

"It's not a super-weapon." Jeremiah cut in flatly. "It's merely another crude and primitive, if heavily armed, copy of a true super-weapon. The best the Natural's can do. It won't be able to stand up to the forces we sent to confront it, not for very long anyway."

"Uh... yes, sir." the Ensign gulped and found his place again. "However, the news is not all bad. The enemy supe... machine... was confronted outside November 8 by the Archangel and the Kusanagi, and was driven into flight by the combined efforts of those two ships and their Mobile Suit compliments, most notably Athrun Zala and Kira..."

"I know which pilots are on the Archangel and Kusanagi." Jeremiah cut in again, the edge back in his voice.

"Right, sir. Umm... the enemy machine was not destroyed, as I said before. Instead it fired off its nuclear payload, which was thankfully promptly destroyed by the Clyne Faction mobile suits and began boosting towards the Moon at an unfeasible speed."

"Unfeasible?" Jeremiah fought down another surge of uncommon anger... something he'd been experiencing a lot lately, especially when he was synchronized with the Pulsar. However, there was never quite enough time to delve into the whys and wherefores of the uncharacteristic behavior, especially given that it was most likely due to the increased stress everyone was operating under. Still, he felt his annoyance growing... synchronizing was a delicate, personal process and this... this nothing, this junior nothing officer, was disrupting it with what amounted to an inconsequential report. The urge to teach him a lesson no one would soon forget was strong.

"Yes sir. The object is currently headed at us with a constant acceleration of 10 gravities, its ETA is less than two gours away. Even with modern compensation technologies, any human would be unconscious if not dead from the stresses induced upon them by maintaining such a pace for longer than a few seconds. The enemy will have been experiencing it for more than eight hours by the time it reaches the Moon, and theres still the question of how its going to stop..."

"Understood. Thank you for your report, Ensign. You may return to your duty station." Jeremiah said with a bored sigh.

"Uh... sir...?" The Ensign had half urned to go before his own conscience stopped him. "Are you sure everything is okay? I... well, I kind of expected more of a reaction, and begging your pardon, Commander, but you've been a lot more short tempered lately."

"It's inconsequential. A single enemy, whether a warship, a Mobile Suit or even a so called Super-weapon... no single construct is going to make a difference in this battle. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, but it's at most a tiny sideshow to the main event. And as for the other thing... yes, everything is fine. I'm just stressed out. I'm sorry for snapping at you, Ensign." Jeremiah forced himself to retract his extended claw and arm, returning the Pulsar to its inanimate pre-launch state.

"Aye, aye, sir!" the Ensign saluted crisply and floated from the hanger. As he did so, the air began to strobe with red lights... the sign that the first wave was within the outer ranges of the enemy defence lines and were now only minutes away from beginning what everyone expected to be the conclusive engagement in the war.

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It was fast shaping up to be a battle of the same scale as Carpentaria, except in a mirror image. Now it was the Earth Alliance that was dug in to miles and miles of fortifications, with their allies gathered and their forces mustered for a defensive battle, while ZAFT came advancing onwards like a pack of ravening wolves. Though ZAFT did not advance under the cover of a WMD assault, the Alliance defenders were only slightly less rattled than their ZAFT counterparts had been during Carpentaria. There were ten full fleets stationed on and around the Moon, plus a large force of auxiliary vessels not grouped into a standard fleet order. Each of four major shipyards/naval bases had its own defensive network of fixed explacements and defense forces, three on the light side and one more on the dark side of the Moon. All told there were twenty five Agammemnon class carriers, seventy three Nelson class destroyers and ninety Drake class Frigates arrayed in the Lunar Defence Region, along with more than eight hundred Moebius class Mobile Armors, three hundred sixty Strike Daggers and eighty Strike Crusaders in the initial forces, with hundreds more in reserve in the various bases. Late arriving reinforcements consisted of three CWM bulk transports carrying prototype weapons, fresh from the Isolationist Research and Development teams that Sai had been employing for months now to come up with newer and better additions to the numerous but generally outdated war machine of the Alliance. Even with these new, secret reinforcements though, the majority of the defenders knew they'd be going up against opponents armed with the newest and best hardware the PLANTS could come up with, while they were using stuff that was at least a generation out of date, if not more so.

The battle started calmly enough, with no sudden masterstroke or devastating surprise attack from either side. The ZAFT first wave merely entered extreme range of the Defense forces and both sides opened up with their long range heavy weapons while launching their Mobile Suits and Mobile Armors. Hundreds of missiles converged across the empty kilometers of space, briefly lit in passing by large caliber railgun tracers and the magnetically sheathed plasma streamers of beam blasts. With near simultaniety, both forces were lit up with explosions as CIWS systems engaged and destroyed incoming enemy firepower, or else ships were damaged and even destroyed by lucky or well aimed enemy attacks. For nearly five minutes, this silent long range firework show was the only action visibile. Then came the smaller but no less intense blooms of light in the nether regions between the two fleet concentrations... where the Mobile weapons from both sides had met and engaged, on their respective ways to mete out death to the enemy motherships. Almost instantly ZAFT had the advantage in this battleground...not only were Coordinators by and large better at fighting in space, but their GINNs were an even match for both Strike Daggers and Strike Crusaders, while their Guiazes were superior in most aspects. Also, for once the numbers of Mobile Suits on either side was less than two to one in favor of the Alliance... good odds by any ZAFT pilot's estimation. However, not everything was going ZAFT's way.

"Well, its no newfangled super-gundam whateverthefuck... but it's a damn sight more suited for a running battle than my clunky old Crusader..." brevet Captain Eric Kellson muttered to himself in the cockpit of his Strike Dagger JA, the "JA" standing for jet assist, which meant this Strike Dagger varient had wings and bigger thrusters so that it didn't just loaf towards its enemies like a crippled hippo. He also had access to a quad of missiles, two attached under each wing, which was sadly a not inconsiderable boost to the firepower the Mobile Suit sported. That was his one complaint about the Strike Dagger... flying one was like showing up to a gunfight with a bb gun... you had the beam rifle, beam sword and a single 75mm CIWS mount. And your wits. Most of the enemy mobile suits were two or three or even more times heavily armed than him, and sometimes better armored and more maneuverable as well, to boot. But he was a canny bastard who didnt let long odds and crappy gear get him down. Well, thats what he always said in the military bars, to impress the girls. Right now he was cursing the bastards who had curtailed the Alliance developers from mass producing something... anything... more suitable to a space battle than what they had.

Still, he hadn't earned his brevet rank... which meant he was still waiting for someone high and mighty to actually confirm his promotion... of Captain for no reason. He was one of a very tiny portion of the Alliance military forces that could truthfully say he'd faced off with a Gundam in single combat and come away alive and whole and having given a not too bad account of himself. Which is to say he'd managed to hit them once or twice without being torn in half himself. Apparently though, that sort of "skill" was a big plus to being on the fast track for promotion. The fact that pretty much the entire senior leadership of the 72 AC was dead, killed by the same Gundam he'd survived, had given his bosses plenty of space to promote him into. Now he was in charge of the third squadron of the second unit, which meant he had ten eager and not as experienced as he'd have liked soldiers under his command. Not one of them was more than a few months over the age of twenty, making him feel positively old at age twenty two. Most were fresh from the new Mobile Suit academies, instead of being converted Mobile Armor pilots like Eric was. None but him had any sort of real combat experience, though they did well on the simulators. That used to mean something to him... now it just made him feel like the simulators were set too easy.

"All right people, you know the drill. The enemy has every advantage over us... they got speed, they got shooty, they got momentum. Keep by your friends, watch each others backs and don't get drawn out in a glory chase... theres plenty more of them to come and you'll have lots of time to make ace before this day is over." Eric cautioned his unit, who were among the wave of reinforcements being deployed to shore up the faltering elements of the first CAP (Combat Air Patrol) which had engaged the incoming ZAFT forces. He waited until he received ten green lights indicating acknowledgement. "That being said, I'm well aware that this is the most kick ass Squadron in the entire 72nd AC and I know I'll be getting good reports about all of you at the end of the day. Good luck everyone. Now heads up... we're going in...!" Within five seconds of that announcement, he'd lost three pilots and had shot down a GINN himself. The fight was BRUTAL... capital letters fully needed. ZAFT mobile suits were all over the place, zipping about like hummingbirds on sugar highs, cannons strobing, beam rifles blazing, and swords shearing and cutting a bloody swath through the belaboured defenders. There was no reference point for the defense line... ZAFT and Alliance mobile suits were intermixed with little regard for formation or position. It was hard enough to keep track of his own squadron, brightly tagged on his HUD, admist the ever changing chaotic clutter of the fight, much less any allied units.

His threat board blared another variation in the near continual wail of target locks and sensor sweep warnings he was being swarmed with... not that people were always shooting at him specifically, but firepower was going everywhere, some inevitably his way. But the new siren was different. It was a constant target lock and that meant some ZAFT bastard had decided to do the dirty on him. Well, Eric Kellson wasn't going to stand for that. He had people to go back to... his parents, his sister Jean, countless girlfriends he'd never met yet... he wasn't going to let some namless Coordinator fuck take that away from him. He looped his Strike Dagger harshly to the left, narrowly evading a stream of machine cannon tracers from the GINN that was bearing down on him. His eyes flashed across his HUD, seeing that his squadron were all engaged in troubles of their own, none being especially close by or well situated to the giving of aid. He cranked his beam rifle around, managed a lock for less than a second and then the enemy was away, twirling out of his sensor view like a leaf on a gale. Eric gritted his teeth in a grimace and banked sharply again, striving to keep the bastard at least in view, if not in target lock.

In the end, Eric didn't get the kill at all. Some nameless pilot from one of the other Alliance squadrons involved in the furball blindsided the GINN with a burst of automatic beam rifle fire that chewed off pretty much its entire upper torso. Eric was about to thank whoever it was when the other Strike Dagger came apart... just disintegrated in front of his eyes, having stopped an anti-ship missile meant for some capital warship on the far side of the engagement zone. "Cripes..." Eric murmured in frightened awe... as if there wasn't enough to worry about, now both sides warships were shooting through the middle of the melee as well. His instincts stayed true even as his higher mind went a little loopy, and he still managed to make a snap shot that disabled a nearby Guaize, blowing off a leg and sending it tumbling uncontrollably. Cannon fire sparked and ricocheted from his shield, signifying the advance of yet another ZAFT GINN and Eric rapidly swung to address the issue. Seeing no worth in perserving his extra armaments, Eric loosed all four missiles and then fired off a burst from his CIWS at the charging foe. The CIWS chopped splinters of armor from the GINNs head and chest regions, while the enemy pilot shot one missile right out of space with his machine cannon and managed to twist around another, the last two struck him dead on, explosively gutting the GINN and leaving it a drifting mass of wreckage. There was no reprieve... almost as soon as the explosion faded he was under attack again, from a new angle.

After what felt like an eternity of identical snapshot moments... coming under fire, either evading, fleeing or engaging the enemy and then rinse and repeat... but was actually less than five minutes according to his cockpit chronometers, Eric actually found himself in a relatively calmer corner of the battleground. Quiet enough for him to take stock and look at something other than his immediate surroundings. He'd lost his beam rifle somewhere along the way and had been using his beam sword for more than a minute now. One of his jet assist wings had been blown off by some near miss, his armor was chipped and dented over most of his airframe and his shield was bent, warped and pockmarked with small craters, though still more than servicable. His CIWS was down to less than 20 percent ammunition remaining, while he still had almost another fifteen minutes of combat power time. Say what you would about the other capabilities of the Strike Dagger, they did have a good bit of staying power. He looked at his long range sensors and quickly discovered that he'd lost all but three of his unit. The thought numbed him... seventy percent casualties, in a little over five minutes. Seven kids who'd never get a chance to grow old... he looked at his own battle record computer and his mind went even blanker for a moment. Six confirmed kills and three more probables, along with two disabled and forced to withdraws. Combined with his previous two kills from the European Theatre and some luck on the probables, he was now a double-ace. "Holy shit. When did I do all that?" he breathed to himself.

He didn't get time to answer himself. He had a birds eye view of the whole thing as it happened. The fight was reaching an equilibrium point, where the reinforements from the Alliance fleet had stemmed the initial tide of the ZAFT advance and things were beginning to turn in the Alliance's favor as the ZAFT forces were pushed back towards their own ships, running low on power and munitions. Things weren't exactly looking up, but neither did it look like everything was going to hell in a handbasket. Up until the ZAFT second wave rocketed into the mix, that is. Up till now, the Alliance had been fighting against known foes... GINNs and Guaizes, which were still pretty damn tough. But they were now second string ZAFT machines, assigned to the less competent if still damn good pilots. Not so the second wave, which consisted of more than one hundred of the newest and best models ZAFT could field, the so called Elementals. Other than the name, and the fact that they could be battlefield customized in a variety of ways on short notice, the Alliance knew next to nothing about the new machines. They soon learned the basics... not only were the Elementals faster and more maneuverable than any Guaize, but they were far more heavily armed and armored. The Elementals of the second wave were primarily Air and Fire aspect pack equipped, with a substantial minority just going with the so called Space aspect, without any additional gear than the standard.

Fire aspect Elementals were melee combatants, each armed with two large swords much like the one the Sword Striker had once carried, as well as a plasma flamethrower in the head region, much like the Efreet mobile suits had in their palms. Additionally a Fire Elemental carried twelve throwable bombs, used much like grenades and featured many more maneuvering thrusters for greater agility. Air aspect Elementals were also customized for speed and maneuverability, though they focused more on ranged combat, carrying a 55mm machine cannon in their left hand and combination 57mm beam rifle and 175mm rocket-grenade launcher in the right, with six laser guided missiles attached to their jet assist wings, with a single anti-ship sword for backup fighting. Space Elementals carried the beam rifle/rpg launcher, the sword and a sturdy shield, glorying in their versatility for any encounter. Not only were the machines top notch, but Eric could plainly see the pilots weren't exactly your rank and file pilots either. The individual teams stayed close together in tight knots of blitzing destruction, overlapping fire lanes, flanking their foes with precise and almost balletic maneuvers and covering each other's backs with such skill that even more than a minute after they impacted the stunned Alliance forces, not a single Elemental had been shot down. The ZAFT second wave did not slow down or get bogged down in individual dogfights... they maintained unit cohesion and even kept moving as a wave, punching entirely through the Alliance mobile suits and mobile armors and then streaking for the vulnerable capital ships behind them.

The ships of the fleet began desperate anti-mobile suit maneuvers, their CIWS systems and even main batteries suddenly changing all their attention to keeping the supremely deadly enemy machines from getting too close... every Alliance commander was well aware of the dangers of letting ZAFT mobile suits get too close. Any and all reserve mobile armor and mobile suit forces were launched, even as the bigger, slower and more vulnerable ships began a hasty withdrawal, seeking shelter among the Moon based defense systems and reinforcements from the reserve forces stationed below. Still, things were turning ugly indeed for the Alliance. Ship after ship after ship bloated, swelled and then burst in bright globes of light as the ZAFT elite force evaded their defensive fire and ravaged the clumsy ships like wolves among sheep. Here and there an Elemental found itself boxed in by CAP or CIWS fire and was destroyed, but the balance of casualties was still far more weighted against the Alliance. Eric, along with his surviving squad mates and a healthy chunk of the previously engaged Alliance forces, turned from their initial battleground and gave chase to the ZAFT blitzkreig, all well aware that if the ships were all destroyed, they'd have a hell of a time returning to the Moon as anything other than unpowered and likely shot torn wreckage.

Even after the battle, Eric still had trouble remembering precisely what happened next. He and a group of about ten other Alliance mobile suits, a mix of Daggers and Crusaders, most slightly battleworn in one way or another, were about three quarters of the way back to the Fleets, with no enemy mobile suits around, except for the ones tearing apart the Fleet. His threat boards were calm, his HUD empty, his sensors blank. And then three mobile suits just fell apart, cut in half by something which flew by so fast it showed up as only a momentary blur on his sensor screens. "What the hell...?" Eric and everyone else cried out pretty much in unison. Before the echo of their cry could even fade from the comm channel, two more mobile suits were dead, diced by the whateveritwas that was attacking them. Eric strained mightily to get a view of it, but couldn't even get close... he never even saw the approach, just the mobile suits coming apart as if hit by a giant invisible cleaver.

"A new long range weapon!?" one pilot shouted in confusion.

"No... look at that damage... they've been cut apart with a beam weapon!" Eric shouted back. "Does anyone see him?"

"See what!? I don't have anything on my scre..." the line cut off in a wash of stactic as another Alliance mobile suit detonated, violently cut in half at the waist as a streak of white and grey metal passed by only a kilometer or so in front of Eric. The blur was gone almost as fast as he blinked, so fast he was barely sure he saw it.

"Mirage Colloid!?" another pilot yelled, quite audibly fighting down panic. Without waiting for an answer the Strike Crusader he was in started firing randomly in various directions, trying ineffectually to flush out an invisible foe.

"That doesn't make any sense... I've been getting glimpses of it... if it was cloaked there would be no indication at all..." Eric mused to himself. His eyes fell squarely upon the panicking Crusader and so he alone was witness to the initial appearance of a foe that was soon to make the entire Lunar Defense Force quake in fear. One moment the Crusader was gyrating about, firing all its weapons so fast he was sure to overheat within a minute or so, the next it stopped dead, with a massive double edged anti ship sword protruding from the middle of its chest. The sword was truly huge, longer than the Crusader was tall, it looked almost too big for a single mobile suit to wield. Between blinks the sword was gone, withdrawn back through the ruined chest of the Crusader, which floated limply through space, its pilot and control systems neatly excised. Eric managed to get a four second look at the instrument of the Crusader's demise, long enough for his battle record combuter to get several good pictures.

Tall, lean and gangly, the enemy Mobile Suit was still slightly bigger over all than a Strike Crusader, though almost skeletal in appearance due to an extremely frugal approach to armoring and a white-grey base paint scheme. The sword it wielded causually in both hands was taller than it was, a beam zweihander a full twenty five meters long and more than two and a half meters wide. A strange looking gun was slung across the machine's back, along with a disposable case of what was probably ammunition. Other than those, and a suspicious bulge in the forearm armor on each wrist, the mobile suit carried no other visible weapons. The most immediately catching detail of its appearance, besides the brightly glowing red eyes, was the eight spike like protrusions on the back of its torso and limbs, glowing white hot even in the visible spectrum as they rapidly dissipated heat into the absolute temperatures of space. As if noticing his brief scrutiny, the enemy pilot swung his sword in an elaborate mocking salute and then just flat out disappeared. Only frantic and extensive later study of the footage would reveal that the machine did not utilize a Mirage Colloid cloaking system.

No, instead, to much general dismay, it would be discovered that the enemy machine dubbed "the Reaper" by the Alliance forces had just accelerated away... at a calculated seventy gravites of near instant acceleration... an absolutely impossible speed for any biological being to survive. Despite that, the enemy didn't seem overly bothered by his flouting of common sense, given that he went on to destroy more than twenty five ships as well as forty mobile armors and mobile suits combined within the next fifteen minutes. Well before that time the news that ZAFT had a new Gundam was well on its way to being known to every last despairing Alliance soldier on the Moon. Things were looking pretty grim indeed.

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"That's right, you Natural scum... run. Run and hide in your burrows and bases." Jeremiah subvocalized, smirking as the Pulsar's computers fed data directly into his brain, keeping him completely updated on the battle as a whole. The first wave had done an admirable job in drawing out the enemy mobile suits and mobile armors, keeping them busy and extended away from the vulnerable if heavily armed warships. The second wave, led by him, had done brilliantly, smashing their way through the tired and worn remnants of the forces engaged with the first wave and carrying the fight deep within the main fleet strengths of the enemy defense forces. After close to thirty minutes of slaughter, during which time the third ave arrived and began its initial deployments to the lunar surface, the Alliance managed at length to withdraw in something resembling good order to within the perimeters of their light side fleet bases, after losing more than half their capital warships and two thirds of their mobile suits and mobile armors. ZAFT casualties had been moderate in the first wave and light in the second, with four fifths of the first wave and nine tenths of the second still operational and ready to push on.

The Pulsar was performing in as exemplarly a fashion as he'd ever imagined it would. He flew like greased lightning and fought like an angry god, and none could stand before him... not mobile armor, mobile suit or warship. Whatever did not immediately flee his presence was rapidly reduced to scattered debris by his beam zweihander, he hadn't even felt the need to utilize any other weapon system yet, nor even his Positron Reflectors. Most often the enemy didn't even see him coming, except when he chose to let them. It was so glorious it was fast becoming boring. Much as the practical, soldiery side of him hated to admit it, he wished he could fight someone or something that would put his skills a bit more to the test. Oh, he was more than happy to beat on the practically helpless Alliance soldiers, since it was doing wonders to depress their morale and minimize casualties on his own side, but something pressed him to seek out something more, something challenging. He fought down a wave of momentary nausea and a brief blinding headache. He brought the Pulsar around in a leisurely twenty G reversal and headed back into the fight proper and the pain and discomfort quickly faded. It had been happening more and more often, he noted, especially whenever he wasn't actively engaged in combat. He wasn't sure if it was some problem with him, or the NIC or how he was synchronized with the system, but now was hardly the time or the place to be worried about a little pain and discomfort, which he could easily ignore.

He added two more Strike Daggers, strays who had been seperated from their retreating comrades during the panicked and not altogether well organized retreat to the lunar surface, to his tally as he sped to rejoin the main accumulation of the ZAFT forces, in low orbit over the first Lunar Fleet Base, Leonardo LFB. A quick right and left sweep of his sword as he overtook them from behind easily took care of the lightly armored and clumsy Daggers, neither likely even saw him coming, and they certainly didnt have the reflexes to get out of the way of an object that was travelling faster than most cannon shells. He felt the twin jars in his arms as the sword bit home and then sliced through and he reflected that it was a good thing they'd elected to go with a beam sword, because a solid metal blade would have almost certainly snapped under the stress of the repeated high speed impacts. That was the only disadvantage to the insane speed the Pulsar was capable of... attacking at flank speed was almost impossible even for a NIC interfaced Coordinator to manage, with targets slipping past in milliseconds, forcing him to either pick a target a good ways ahead of time and confine himself to its singular destruction, or else slow himself down to only two or three times faster than his foes, relying on agility to keep himself safe from harm. Not that that was any particular trouble, given the range of motion the NIC system allowed him, but it was something to bear in mind for future designs... some way to boost the pilot's reaction time to be able to fully utilize the capabilities of the system would boost his effectiveness by a significant amount.

He braked to a drifting speed just in front of the Charles Darwin, his body felt the slight change in ambient pressure as the GRS soaked up the sudden G forces from the near instantaneous maneuver and kept him from become a fleshy mush on the inside of the cockpit space. It was an odd feeling, because generally his body was largely numb, interfaced with the "nerveless" structure of the Pulsar, but sometimes, especially when dealing with whole body sensations, feeling leaked through. It was nothing more than a brief distraction, barely even worth noting, but his engineer's mind couldnt help but note that down as another possible design improvement... some way of numbing the pilots body so that he or she was not distracted by even minute sensations caused by their environment. The trick would be doing it without also lowering the pilots reflex ability, but that was probably more a question for people like his sister in law or nephew to handle, people with more knowledge of human nervous systems. "What's the status of the attack on Leonardo?" Jeremiah asked over his command link to the Charles Darwin, and thus to the command channels of the entire invasion force as a whole.

"It is just beginning now, Commander Borander. We're currently about six minutes ahead of the projected operation schedule. High Command would like to particularly thank you for your contributions today, which have gone a long way towards..."

"Yada yada, I know. It's my job, thats all. Anyone else would do the same in my place." Jeremiah waved off the praise, the Pulsar unconsciously mimicking the movement. "Where can I be the most use now?"

"Assuming you don't need some rest, Commander, High Command would like you to proceed to the outskirts of Galileo LFB, on the dark side of the moon. When the fourth wave arrives, we will be investing all three of the LFB's on the light side of the moon, Leonardo, Haley and Apollo LFB's, while a strike force has been dispatched to Galileo to distract and delay the enemy strengths stationed there, to prevent them from flanking any of our other attacks. You'll be operating alongside the Avalar, Hoenhein, Schwartz and Dean teams, supported by the Nazca class destroyers Liebholtz and Venturii. Your orders are to delay and distract, but if you feel you can accomplish a significant blow against the enemy, feel free to use your own judgement."

"Acknowledge the order to proceed to dark side, Galileo LFB. Join allied mobile suits and warships, conduct delay and distraction operations against OpFor present at base, press any targets of opportunity, Commander Borander, Pulsar, over and out." Jeremiah replied. He blinked away the rising headache and plotted his course. "Once more unto the breach..." he whispered with a smirk.

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Shinn Asuka was ecstatic... not only was he a new member of the highly decorated Schwartz team, outfitted with one of the new line of ZAFT mobile suits, an Elemental... but his team had been given the kind of open ended orders any ambitious soldier would salivitate over. Deny and distract, engage and press any targets of opportunity... you didn't get a more "make up your own rules as long as you don't fuck up" set of orders than that. He and his team and their allied units were being given pretty much free reign to seek as much glory and progress as they felt confident they could grab and hold. Oh, sure, there might be only twenty mobile suits, half of which were Elementals and the other half Guaizes, and with only two warships for support and supply, but come on... they were ZAFT! The victorious elite! The Avalar team was entirely made up of red coats, while Captain Schwartz was only one kill away from being confirmed an Ace-Commander and both the Hoenhein and Dean teams had two red coats in them. Everyone knew that the Schwartz team was the fast track to becoming a red coat... the average time until elite promotion was less than three months for the team as a whole. Of course, you had to have the skills in the first place, but Shinn knew he'd blasted the skill requirements out of the water. How many other pilots could truthfully claim to have half disabled a Gundam anyway, even if he'd still lost the encounter? Especially a Gundam piloted by Kira Yamato.

"Galileo LFB outer perimeter in two minutes. Repeat, two minutes until engagement zone. All pilots, complete pre-flight checks and report ready status." the Liebholtz's hangar PA system blared. Shinn wasted no time in sealing his cockpit hatch and running a final check of his systems. He knew everything was in perfect working order... he'd satisfied himself of that long before the two minute warning, but it never hurt to be sure. Especially since his Elemental was equipped with... nonstandard... equipment, even for the adaptable Elementals. He'd opted to go without an aspect pack, going with just a plain Space Elemental, with the same sword and shield as every other machine of like aspect in the fleet. However, he carried both the triple barrled sniper cannon and dual 57mm beam rifle the Liberty had dropped in Carpentaria when Shinn had fought Kira. He'd claimed them both as war trophies and no one had found fault with that, especially after he'd allowed ZAFT R and D to analyze both weapons for possible future production and distribution to ZAFT forces. Shinn's Elemental also mounted a large external power pack on its right rear torso, to provide power for the sniper cannon, as firing the heavy weapon would quickly drain the Elemental's normal batteries after only a few shots. His maneuverability was somewhat diminished while he lugged the massive weapon and its power pack around, but he could jettison both if the fight got messy and it was impossible to discount the utility of the incredible long range firepower his Elemental sported.

"Shinn Asuka, Schwartz team Elemental-59351D. All systems green, ready to go." Shinn reported after completing his check. His comm screen blinked to life, showing him the red helmet of Captain Schwartz, preparing for launch across the hanger bay in his own Elemental, equipped with the Fire aspect. "Captain." Shinn acknowledged, feeling only a few butterflies in his stomach.

"Shinn." Schwartz replied calmly. "This is your first time flying into the thick of it alongside me and the guys. To be honest, I initially thought you were just another punk kid with some skills and anger issues, a brief rising star who'd soon burn himself out. I've since revised that opinion and I'm now happy to say I'm glad to have you on my team. I've no doubt you'll be a credit to not only your own reputation, but to the Schwartz team and the battle fleet as a whole."

"Thank you, sir." Shinn said, not quite sure what else to say. Captain Schwartz was famed for his bluntness, but still, it was a little disorienting.

"Let's be honest now, Shinn. Between men, not Captain and subordinate. Everyone knows you're a glory hound. Nothing wrong with that. Admirable even. Just don't let it get the best of you... drive and motivation are good things... obsession is not. There's going to be plenty of room to get glory for everyone in this battle... don't try to grab too much for yourself too soon. That being said, I do trust you to exercise your own judgement and to take the proper risk at the proper opportunity. Just so you know, no matter how this battle turns out, I think you're prolly going to be a shoo in for the red coat as long as you survive, so don't feel like you have anything to prove along those lines."

"I understand, thank you, sir." Shinn replied, not bothering to try and hide his smile. It was what he'd expected, but there was nothing like hearing it from someone in the know. "Still, even without something to prove, I'm going to be giving it my all out there. This is the final battle of the war after all."

"Yes, yes it is. Good luck out there. Schwartz out."

"30 seconds until combat zone. All pilots prepare for launch. Launch zone is hot, repeat LZ is hot. We have incoming mobile suit and mobile armor forces as well as scrambling warships. Looks like we've kicked over a beehive out there fellows, so happy hunting." the Leibholtz's captain announced gravely. Shinn fought down the butterflies again, as the entire ship rocked and swayed slightly, sure signs that it was being engaged and was attempting evasive maneuvers. After a ten second countdown, the magnetic catapult doors opened and the catapult extended. Ten seconds after the catapult was charged and ready, Captain Schwartz was launched, followed in five second intervals by the rest of his team, then the Dean team after them. Likewise beside them, the Venturii was launching the Avalar and Hoenhein teams. Almost as soon as he cleared the hangar, Shinn's target display lit up with red icons. Scores and scores of red icons... the Leibholtz's captain hadn't been screwing around when he compared the situation to kicking over a beehive... they were already outnumbered a good three to one and the enemy force was growing larger by the second.

"Guess that means I should start thinning their ranks then!" Shinn said determinedly. He settled the sniper cannon into a braced position on his Elemental's hips even as he dropped gracefully to the lunar surface in a cloud of grey dust. A few brief targeting corrections and then the massive weapon spat three bright orange beams on slightly diverging courses, the powerful shots blowing two Strike Daggers into scrap and mortally wounding a Crusader, leaving it burning on the ground. Shinn wasted no time in vacating his old position, there was no sense in waiting around for any enemy long range weapons to zero in on him. Taking full advantage of the reduced gravity of the Moon, he bounced and leapt across the moonscape, moving perpendicular to the advance of the rest of the ZAFT forces, who had charged the oncoming Alliance defenders and were currently heavily engaged several kilometers away. After about fifteen seconds he stopped and sighted in again, this time blasting a Nelson class cruiser to bits as it oriented on the Venturii. Perhaps predictably, he started to draw attention of his own, as a flight of four Strike Daggers broke away from the main engagement and headed directly for him.

The Daggers raced his charging meter across his HUD and the charging meter won, by a scant few seconds. His near point blank shot reduced the odds by half, obliterating the two closest Daggers in a storm of charged particles. Without a moment's hesitation Shinn flipped the disconnect switch and ditched both the sniper cannon and the extra power pack, he could retrieve them after the battle or at any later time, assuming ZAFT won. The two remaining Alliance mobile suits pincered around him, blasting furiously with their beam rifles. He deflected several shots with his shield while yanking out his anti-ship sword and activating the beam blade in front of the physical sword edge. A tap or two on his maneuvering thrusters brought him rapidly into range of the left hand Dagger and it was only a quick up and down "V" stroke from there to leaving the enemy machine lying broken on the ground, leaking frozen oil like blood. Green energy beams lanced close by over his head as the remaining foe tried to charge his back, but Shinn was having none of that. He spun, keeping the shield angled slightly, bouncing the beams safely away into the ground as he vaulted up and over the enemy, sword flickering out and down to slice off the foe's rifle arm in passing. The other pilot was game, dropping his own shield and whipping out his own yellow beam saber, charging Shinn yet again as he landed from his jump.

Shinn jolted his Elemental a pace to the side, narrowly avoiding the wild choppy swings of the enemy even as he gave ground. Within seconds the enemy pilot had overcommitted to his attack and Shinn swiftly counterattacked, his sword spearing straight out even as his shield swatted the beam saber away. He ripped his sword laterally out of the impaled Strike Dagger and let it fall lightly to the ground in the reduced gravity, it's pilot nothing more than bloody ash in the cockpit. Shinn sheathed his sword and drew his dual 57 beam rifle, marking the location on his tactical map so he could retrieve the sniper cannon later. He then headed towards the GalileoLFB proper, ignoring the furball that his comrades had started with the majority of the Alliance defence forces a few kilometers away. He was mostly unnoticed for now, and he sensed a strong opportunity to get in behind the enemy lines and cause some real damage. Shinn smiled a feral smile and kicked in his thrusters.

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Blaring alert sirens called Eric out of his doze on top of some supply crates near hs new mobile suit. After surviving the retreat to the lunar surface, he and a great many more of the better mobile suit and mobile armor pilots had been bundled off in quick shuttles flying to the Galileo LFB, where they were quickly formed into new units and given new mobile suits and mobile armors from a large lot of very new looking machines. Eric smiled slightly... say what you want about quality, there was something to be said for quantity as well. He was lucky enough to be alloted a newer Crusader varient, which featured enhanced maneuvering systems and greatly increased speed. Dubbed Crusader-2's, or Cavalier's, he'd only found out they even had them about ten minutes ago. Apparently someone hadn't been fully asleep at the switch for a while now back on Earth, because evidently there were a few factories pumping out new designs to help the Alliance get some of their edge back. Besides just the units of Cavaliers, there were a bunch more Dagger JA's, a ferocious looking new design of mobile armor called the Moebius Flare, a small unit of strange, centaur-looking mobile suits called Cataphracts and then the crowning glories, three "Templar" class command mobile suits. Well, they were called Templars, but they were Freedoms, even Eric could figure that out. How anyone had managed to put together three full Freedoms in secret, much less get them up to the Moon in secret, was beyond him, but he wasn't bitching.

In addition to all the new machines, there was also five detachments of old style Crusaders, except that these Crusaders had been largly stripped of weapons except for regular 57mm beam rifles, swords and shields. Operating in pairs, each team lugged a gargantuan gun-like contraption, apparently called a "FRALA"... though what that meant was anyone's guess. One of the Crusaders carred the ten meter long rifle, while the other carried what could only be a cluster of disposable, single use power packs of extremely high capacity. There was a extremely high capacity connector cable running from the stock of the gun into a socket on one of the power packs, so Eric guessed that meant the weapon required manual reloading after every shot. It didn't sound very practical, but there must be some reasoning behind it, he figured... just not at his or anyone else below the rank of Admiral's paygrade. He thought about all this again in the few seconds it took him to seal his helmet to his flight suit and clamber up into the cockpit of his new Cavalier. Luckily the startup procedure was almost identical to that of the Crusader's he was used to flying, so it took him less than two minutes to bring the big machine online and get himself battle ready.

"I thought we were supposed to be the reinforcements for everyone else, why are we getting attacked?" someone grumbled over the common comm.

"It's just a small bunch of raiders in Elemental's and Guiaze's. Probably here to harass and cause us to commit forces to engaging them, so that we can't deploy them elsewhere." Someone else replied.

"Well gee, I guess they succeeded, didn't they?" A third voice drawled. "Though I think they may have bitten off more than they can chew, ya'll know what I mean?"

"All right, thats enough chatter on the comm lines." An authoratative voice snapped. Pilots as a group were not always well renowned for their respect of authority, unless they respected the person personally, but there was something about this voice which told Eric to sit up and listen, or else. "You're all going to be receiving your battle order's shortly, but I wanted to take a few moments to outline just what you people are. To put it simply, you people are the last real hope the Alliance has of preserving control of the Moon. I cannot say it any simpler than that. You're the end of the reinforcements, the end of the liners, if you guys go down theres nobody left to step up except for the cooks and cleaners, and they don't have mobile suits."

"And who the hell are you anyhow?" the third voice demanded.

"I'm your commanding officer. My name is Lieutenant Cyprus Finch. You can call me Lieutenant. Or Sir, either works." the authoratative voice replied calmly, at the same time as everyone's comm screens activated and revealed the intense features of the de facto C in C of the Alliance military forces. Eric had never met the man personally, but he'd seen him on TV a few times, ever since President Argyle took over running the EA government. There was a marked difference in the Lieutenant's demeanor on public TV vs closed circuit comms. On TV he came across as a soldier's soldier, bad to the bone and not afraid to prove it. On closed circuits, that intensity was stepped up about ten notches, so much so that Eric couldn't even meet the impersonal gaze on his tiny vid-screen. "The President sent me up here with the latest and best the Isolationist government has to offer, but the one thing we didn't have enough of were highly qualified pilots. Given that I'm the boss of bosses, I chose to requisition the personnel I needed upon arriving here. That would be you people."

"So what... we're just going to gear up and get moving? Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased as all sorts of hell to finally see some new technology, but those Elemental's aren't any sort of joke either, ya know." the recalitrant soldier retorted. "Not to mention the goddam Reaper..." he continued in a far quieter voice.

"The enemy does have some very powerful machines within their battle order, there is no denying that." Cyprus answered. "However, this Reaper and any other new surprises really aren't going to be your main concern. They will be dealt with by the Cataphracts, Templars, FRALA teams and the Moebius Flare squadron, all the personnel of whom have undergone extensive and intensive training in formation fighting and group tactics. Those of you in Cavalier's and Dagger JA's are more than welcome to assist the pre-trained forces if you feel you are up to it, just as they will assist you if they can spare the effort, but I want you to focus on disrupting the main force of ZAFT warships and other mobile suits."

"FRALA, Tem-plar, Cata-whatevers... lotta fancy names, but it doesn't tell us much. How can we support shit if we don't even know what it is?" the soldier argued.

"We don't really have time for me to give you a briefing on the new units, but each of your machines does have the technical specs for all of the new tech you see around you. I'd advise studying it as thoroughly as possible in the remaining time you have untill deployment. Which will be approx. six minutes and forty two seconds and counting, if matters continue to deteriorate as they have been." Cyprus turned and looked at some of the other screens he was privy to in the Galileo Command Center. "The enemy have broken through our outer defense lines and are currently engaged with the main base defense forces, who are being pushed back into the third line of defense as we speak. My intention is to allow the enemy to extend themselves a bit further, to maximize the distance between their support craft and their raiding forces. At that time, that is when you all will fall on them and grind them into dust." he made it sound so easy that Eric had to remind himself that it would be both terribly bloody and dangerous fighting, the worst kind of close quarters brutality. To take his mind off it, he called up the technical manuals and flipped through them.

"FRALA... what a ridiculous name... lets see... FRALA, FRALA... ah!" Eric muttered half to himself, flicking his attention to the comm screen every few seconds just so he wouldn't miss a sudden update. "Focused, Repeatedly Amplified Light Array? So what, it's just a big cutting laser?" Eric shook his head in confusion. "Whatever. I'll believe it when I see it. Whats next... hmm, Cataphract... those woulde the centaur things, right?" Eric swiftly called up the pages related to the new class of mobile suit. They were massive, as tall as a Crusader and more than twice as heavy, and though equipped with four legs they had all the maneuverability and speed of a rusty ZaOot. Not exactly an advantage in dealing with the whirlwind fast Elementals. Eric's spirits were revived somewhat when he looked at the arsenal the things toted into battle... a large caliber hyper impulse cannon on the right arm, a quad mount of 80mm anti-mobile suit gatling cannons on the left shoulder, a long barreled 375mm artillery cannon on the right shoulder, a missile 20 launcher on the back, and an octet of CIWS cannons in the head for some serious defensive firepower. They aso carried extremely large shields, called Citadel shields. Eric looked again and noted that the Cavaliers were also equipped with that model of shields.

He read on, slowly becoming more excited the deeper he delved into the pages concerning the new shield design. Old style shields were just elongated and thickened slabs of heat resistant armor, good in their own way for taking ranged fire and even the odd beam saber blow, but they had a nasty tendency to fail over time, and they wouldn't keep out a determined or well aimed blow from any constant beam melee weapon, and any sort of heavy weapon, like a hyper impulse cannon, was entirely up to fate. Not so for the Citadel shields, which were the first in a new line of "powered shields". Though a constant drain on the battery of the mobile suit, each shield created an individual lightwave barrier across its outward face, rendering it entirely invulnerable to all sorts of damage, for as long as the power supply lasted anyway. Also it revealed that when used in proximity to other Citadel shields, the lightwave barrier could be extended to connect all the shields in close proximity, making a sort of wall for them all to hide behind. It was stressed that repeated high energy impacts could overload the shield, but Eric scoffed when he saw the load tolerances... unless a Nazca decided to turn him into roadkill, he'd prolly be fine. A subnote made mention of the fact that the Citadel Shields could still be penetrated by a shot from a FRALA type weapon system, which caused him to snap back to those pages, suddenly a lot more interested in the oddly named weapon.

"Holy shit..." Eric breathed, having given a lot more of a closer look to the specs of the FRALA. "Talk about penetration power, sheesh!" Basically, what a FRALA did was fire ten 50 gigajoule freon lasers into a refracting/focusing chamber, which bounced the beams around a few thousand times, slowly synchronizing them into a single beam, which was then fed through an amplifying medium, juicing up the final energy output to roughly a terajoule and then expelling it all in a blue-white beam about 5mm across, with a range of hundreds of kilometers in space and a few tens of kilometers on Earth. Normally, 5mm would be too small a caliber to harm anything except for light vehicles and human targets, but with that much energy behind it, the laser could cut through any material like it was hardly even there. And because it was a purely light/heat based energy weapon, geischmedig-panzer magnetic shield reflectors were useless against it, as was Phase Shift armor. Even the vaunted Lightwave Barrier system wasn't proof against the hellfire of the FRALA, though it could potentially reduce the damage taken. "Most of the damage done by the FRALA is cutting action due to the relative motion between the origin point and any target mediums during the multi second duration of the beam... huh, that make sense. A 5mm hole won't even kill a man, but a 5mm slice through an entire battleship still cuts it in half... damn, thats one hell of a weapon right there. What's the downside... there has to be one or we'd all have them... ah!" Eric flipped through the tech manual a few more pages.

"Due to the extreme energy requirements, a FRALA system must be supplied with a new power source for every firing, if not connected to a reactor with an output of at least ten thousand megawatts. In addition, the amplifying chamber medium must be changed out every five shots, which is a multi-hour procedure requiring the presence of a group of trained technicians with the proper facilities... damn, so they only get five shots a battle eh? That sucks." Eric read the final few lines. "And due to heat stresses upon the barrel when inadequate cooling is available, i.e. in a terrestrial environment, the barrel will deform out of true alignment after an average of fifteen shots, a short ten minute procedure accomplishes the swapping of barrels. Yeah... like we usually have ten minutes to spare in a firefight... not!" Eric checked his chrono and noticed that more than four minutes had gone by. "A caution... the FRALA is a direct fire weapon only. Duh, since laser beams don't generally bend or curve."

His eye next fell on a subcategory, which dealt with the new types of munitions that the prototype units were being equipped with. For instance, the 2nd, 4th and 6th reloads for his missile 12 rack were made up of new "pilum" class EARPs, which stood for Enhanced ARmor Penetrators, much like the old GAT series Blitz Gundam had used. Though low on explosive power, the EARPs were excellent for defeating the heavy armor many ZAFT mobile suits sported. The Cataphracts also carried several loads of EARP missiles, and Eric was already eagerly anticipating the look on some luckless ZAFT pilot's face when he got a missile shot through his shield and into his face. The Cataphracts also sported a bunch of different types of specialty ammunition for their artillery cannons... stuff like "Grimer IV" smoke/fouling grit warheads, "Cobweb" adhesive immobilization warheads, "Rustaway" bio-oxidation sludge warheads, "Dark Rain" adhesive paint cluster muntions for negating Mirage Colloid units and finally "Nova Flash" class high intensity photon bombs, which were basically a nuclear powered flash bang. Yeah, ZAFT was in for a bunch of nasty surprises, that was for sure. Eric even started to feel good for once, about their chances of acheiving victory.

"SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE! This is not a drill. Enemy mobile suit presence detected inside inner defense perimeter. Intercept and destroy, priority ALPHA. SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE!" the base emergency announcing system suddenly blared. Red lights began strobing and sirens soon added their rising and falling wails to the cacaphony as all the pilots inside the massive underground hangar bay began bringing their machines to full combat readiness and heading for the rapidly opening launch doors as fast as they could. What started as a startling rush soon became a mad dash to get to the portals first, to avoid every pilot's worst fear, being caught in a destroyed hangar or support ship, unable to deploy or do anything besides wait for a rescue that might never come. Eric was far from the first person to scramble through the doorway into the moonscape outside, given that he had to close out the tech manuals that had been displayed on his primary screens, but he was far from the last person too. Almost immediately he patched in to the base sensor system, so much more comprehensive and up to date than his own and so he had no trouble at all locating the infiltrator, who was cheerfully blasting his way through hydroponics domes and surface storage sheds a few kilometers away. Eric grinned when he saw the enemy mobile suit jerk slightly as its pilot reacted to the sudden proliferation of threat icons on his sensors.

"Yeah... now its your turn to go "oh fuck", buddy!" Eric said with a nasty grin. He dropped his crosshairs over the grey and black painted Elemental and stroked the trigger for his missile launcher and hyper impulse cannon. He didn't really expect to hit much at this range, but he felt the odds were good a few snap shots might unbalance the suddenly heavily outnumbered raider. His hopes were in vain though, as the enemy quickly regained his cool and almost contemptuously swatted the missiles from from the sky with his CIWS and skipped to the side to let the hyper impulse blast sail uselessly out into the reaches of space. The Elemental didn't have long to feel smug though, as he rapidly came under fire from a dozen different mobile suits, all steadily advancing on him in a wide semicircle that rapidly became a total envelopment as further units cleared the hangar bay. Meanwhile, the Templars, Cataphracts, Moebius Flares and FRALA teams formed up in good order and started to head towards the main battle.

The trapped Elemental pilot proved that even a cornered rat still has sharp teeth, using his dual 57mm beam rifle to blow a red hot series of holes through an incautiously advancing Cavalier. Eric winced when he saw the dual green hypens of beam energy... it reminded him quite forcibly of the fight he'd had against Ysak Joule. Come to think of it, the gun the Elemental had looked almost identical to the one Ysak had been using, but no other Elemental he'd seen during the prevous battles had been using one. Could it be that whoever this guy was had someone taken it as a trophy? If so, this guy was likely to be quite a bit better than your average Coordinator. Another guy who'd fought with a Gundam and come out at least somewhat even. Eric juked the Cavalier into a bone jarring run, even accounting for the light lunar gravity, his sudden and erratic movement surprising the enemy enough so that its probing beam blasts stitched into the ground several dozen meters behind Eric as he slid into cover behind one of the many maintenance storage sheds that dotted the outer crust of the base. His chancy move had brought him to within a half kilometer of the enemy, almost twice as close as anyone else.

Eric didn't stop long, wanting to keep the momentum on his side. He popped right back out on the side of the building he'd taken cover by and almost caught the other guy napping... or at least distracted by the other guys trying to kill him. He dropped his crosshairs over the son of a bitch and popped his missile triggers again, this time adding in a few railgun shots along with the hyper impulse cannon, which he discarded as soon as it finished discharging. If the enemy was still up after this exchange of fire, they'd be too close for the heavy weapon to be much further use. His railgun tracers dug out huge divots in the dusty ground to either side of the Elemental, which dropped almost to its knees in order to get under the hyper impulse blast. All this tricky maneuvering kept it from using its CIWS on the missiles, but the pilot confidently brought his shield up to take the missiles out of the equation. Eric snorted in victory, almost able to hear the other guy's cry of dismay as the EARP missiles punched easily through the shield, before detonating and ripping the metal bulwark into scrap. Still, though denied a shield and with its left arm slightly damaged, the enemy did not give up, making a few snap shots of his own that Eric easily dodged... until he realized the guy hadn't been shooting at him at all, but had instead destroyed a pair of Dagger JA's that had been rushing up to support Eric.

"All right, enough with the fancy tricks. Its time to finish this up close and personal!" Eric shouted, yanking out his beam saber and shoving his Citadel shield forward as he gunned the Cavalier into a mad dash for the enemy. The Elemental almost calmy turned to regard him and dispassionately raised his rifle to aim at the easy target. Shield or no shield, with a good three hundred meters to spare the pilot had every reason to expect to be able to blow the Cavalier to smithereens with ease. Except that h'd never encountered a Citadel shield, a portable Lightwave Barrier. The dual green hypens of beam energy ricocheted and bounced harmlessly away to either side as they encountered the impenetrable force field, or else just dissipated harmlessly, their energy exhausted by the thwarted attempt to penetrate the shield. Eric smiled as the other guy frantically blasted at him, to zero effect, until it was far too late to dodge. Eric cannoned into the Elemental, knocking the ZAFT mobile suit sprawling as the Cavalier quite literally ran him down like a charging bull. The impact was not kind to Eric either, but he was still smiling as he regained his balance and turned to thrust home his sword. Just as he was bringing the blade down, a thunderbolt shot out of the sky and ripped his sword arm off from the elbow down. "WHAT THE...!?"

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"An effective weapon." Jeremiah commented to himself, lowering the beam crossbow and re-attaching it to the back mounted supports. The weapon functioned much like a railgun, except that it fired projectiles that incorporated a short duration beam saber type effect projecting from their warheads, granting the speeding projectiles the ability to penetrate even heavy armor with ease. The Pulsar carried only a limited number of the special projectiles, but Jeremiah had judged it more than worth it to expend one to save the life of the heroic Elemental pilot, who'd been battling almost impossible odds now for several minutes, after an attempt to work around stealthily into the enemy's rear quarters had backfired quite tremendously. Jeremiah had been slightly peeved to discover that the other ZAFT forces had started the battle without him, but there was nothing to be done about it besides throw himself headlong into the force of enemy mobile suits and other war machines that was boiling out of one of the many underground mustering hangars of the Galileo base. "Elemental pilot, this is Commander Borander in the Pulsar. You've done well, but you look like you are in a spot of trouble. Mind if I lend a hand?"

"T-this is Shinn Asuka, I hear you, sir. You are more than welcome to lend a hand, though now that I've taken their measure I might not need it." Shinn replied through gritted teeth as he clambered the Elemental back to its feet, drawing his sword with his left hand while keeping the rifle in his right. Still, he couldn't help but be thrilled, even if he had never liked being rescued... at least his rescuer was someone as awesome as Ace-Commander Borander, probably one of the most famous people in all the PLANTS. "I don't see you though..." Shinn cut himself off, his jaw dropping as the Pulsar appeared next to him, like a mirage suddenly gaining solidity. It was his first glimpse of the ZAFT Gundam as well, though of course it had been the talk of the invasion forces for weeks now. A head taller than his Elemental, the Pulsar was almost emaciated, if such a term could be applied to a eighty ton war machine, and he could certainly see why some people called it "the Reaper"... with a suitably sized black robe, the Pulsar could easily be mistaken for a giant skeletal Death. Well, the giant sword instead of a scythe was slightly incogrous, but no less effective. Shinn backed the Elemental up until he was back to back with the Pulsar, stowing his rifle on his side to take the anti-ship sword in both hands for a more sure grip.

"You take the left, I'll take the right." Jeremiah commanded. "We'll let them come to us. I hope you're as good with a blade as you are with a gun, Shinn Asuka." Shinn twitched a little at the odd, buzzing tone that Commander Borander's voice had, like he was speaking through a mouth full of gauze or something, but he forced himself to concentrate on the here and now.

"Pardon my asking, sir, but why wouldn't they just stand off and blast us with their ranged weapons, when that would be a far better idea than rushing up to die on our swords?" Shinn frowned when he saw the numbers arrayed against them... there were easily twenty five mobile suits slowly circling around them, plus the damaged one that had nearly killed him, who had retreated during the time Shinn was recovering. Shinn was confident in his skills, he was sure he could get four or even six with his sword, if they'd only be foolish enough to let him get close... but that was unlikely. And unless the ZAFT Gundam behind him was hiding some massive ranged firepower somewhere on its bony frame, he just didn't see how Borander was going to take out the other mobile suits.

"You let me worry about that." Jeremiah replied. Even as he spoke, several of the enemy Crusaders fired their hyper impulse weaponry at the stationary pair of ZAFT machines. "Do not leave my side, Shinn. I'll handle these." Jeremiah stabbed his sword into the ground by his feet and turned side on to the incoming charged particle blasts, he willed open the ports concealing the Positron Deflector shield emitters and two disc shaped fields of slightly pinkish-red energy formed in the void a dozen meters in front of his palms. The hyper impulse blasts struck the anti-matter fields and were stopped cold, the backlash from the expended energies sending Moon dust flying in a billowing sandstorm and setting the ground to trembling and cracking in a large radius around the Pulsar. The Positron shields didn't even bend under the impact and neither Jeremiah or Shinn was particularly affected by the attacks. There was no need for communication between the two Coordinators... though they had never met before, they possessed similar mentalities and both reacted in the same way to the sudden lack of visibilty granted by the backlash.

Shinn burst out of the cloud with his sword cocked back over his shoulders and he quickly cut down a surprised Crusader, whos pilot obviously hadn't expected any offensive action from the massively outnumbered ZAFT machines. Nearby Alliance mobile suits, 2 more Crusaders and four Dagger's, turned and started firing at Shinn, but they were too late... by the time their first beam blasts and missiles were in flight, he was among them, sword slashing and chopping furiously. By the time the pilots managed to fumble out their own melee weaponry, one Crusader and three of the Daggers had been hacked into junk. The two remaining Alliance pilots were perhaps more skilled than their counterparts, quickly splitting up to circle around Shinn, neither commiting to a rash attack but instead working together to keep him off balance and wear him down slowly, or at least keep him occupied until backup arrived. It was a good strategy, and it probably would have worked, except they failed to take one thing into consideration... Shinn wasn't the only enemy on the field anymore.

A new cloud of dust jumped up from the ground as the Pulsar sprinted past, running faster than some mobile suits could fly, the torso of a Dagger impaled on its sword. Jeremiah didn't even stop running, he just snatched out with one hand, its fingers suddenly tipped with mono-molecularly edged claws and ripped the Crusader who was menacing Shinn into shreds as he thundered by. A sudden stop and pivot threw the Dagger torso off the sword blade and heralded the demise of the Dagger who was after Shinn, which fell victim to a red hot whip-chain which snaked out of the Pulsar's left forearm and sliced neatly through the Dagger's torso like a hot knife through butter. Jeremiah slashed the heat-whip through a quick maneuver and cut the falling Dagger into a dozen pieces before it could hit the ground. Another simple motion and the heat-whip snaked out to snare an overflying Crusader by the arm, a quick tugged yanked the Alliance machine down onto Jeremiah's upraised sword. And then, before Shinn could even open his mouth in amazment, the Pulsar was gone, except for an afterimage of blazing thrusters and the wreckage of its foes, as Jeremiah accelerated off again.

"I have to get into one of those..." Shin muttered wistfully. It took him a moment to locate the Pulsar again, and when he did, it was to discover that Commander Borander was engaged in no shit hand to hand combat, its sword slung and heat-whips retracted, battering at the enemy mobile suits trying desperately to shoot or slice him with just the Pulsar's bare hands. Shinn knew he was a damn good pilot... probably one of the best around... but Borander's skill astounded him... the Commander was moving the mobil suit as fluidly as if it were his own body, perfectly executing even the most complex moves fom the combat martial arts taught to all ZAFT redcoats, which Shinn had begun to study himself. "A half turn heel kick... how the hell do you pull off a half turn heel kick in a mobile suit!?" Shinn complained. The Alliance mobile suits seemed quite confounded as well, and their attacks were hesitant and ineffective at best, downright playing into Borander's plans at the worst.

The Pulsar flipped a hands free cartwheel right over the sweeping path of a beam saber, kicking out in midair to send the attacking mobile suit stumbling back with crushed torso armor, landed in a crouch which evolved into a ripping double uppercut that tore the knee off a Strike Dagger and broke the head off another Strike Crusader. The Pulsar spun and wrist blocked another Dagger that had been trying to hack at it from behind, a sharp knee to the lower torso and a twist of the Pulsar's wrists slamming the Dagger backwards and off its feet, leaving its short yellow beam saber in Borander's hands, not that it stayed there for long as he was quick to bury it in the chest of the downed enemy, pinning him to the ground like a bug on a pin. Long range tracer fire sparkled and glittered as the moonscape in proximity to both Shinn and Borander was suddenly blitzed into a cratered ruin. The concussive impacts rattled Shinn and sent his Elemental to one knee, while Jeremiah weathered the storm safe behind the protective lenses of his Positron shields.

A wing of the new Alliance mobile armors, the ones that bore a strong resemblance to the old but still deadly Moebius Zero's, except that they were bulkier and larger, screamed by overhead, loosing flights of missiles at the two ZAFT machines, even as their "Gun Barrel" detached weapon systems deployed and once again profusely strafed the mobile suits on the ground. Shinn was forced into a desperate dive to get out of the way of the incoming fire, his CIWS blazing as he tried to interdict as many missiles as possible. Jeremiah gritted his teeth in frustration, forced to remain stationary behind his anti-matter fields until he could get a clear view of where the enemy was. He knew that keeping him stationary was probably part of some strategy on the part of the enemy, but he was damned if he knew what it was... the Positron Shields would hold almost indefinitely against any enemy assault short of a sustained thermonuclear barrage, which was hardly practical. Even a Cyclops system was within the capabilities of the Positron Shields to withstand, since it was nothing more than a large scale radiation weapon and radiation was nothing more than charged particles, which were still annihilated by anti-matter.

Shinn drew his rifle with one hand and was ready and waiting for the mobile armor's second attack. The enemy gunships carried a lot of weaponry... more then a dozen missiles, four detachable gun barrels and a 75mm autocannon in the nose, they were fast and deadly...but not especially maneuverable. They relied on their gun barrels to grant them the tactical advantage of position, rather than individual mobility. He quickly lined up his sights and sent dual blasts of beam energy streaming up at the fighters bearing down on him and Commander Borander. Seconds later he was swearing up a storm as his confidently fired and well aimed beam blasts were harmlessly deflected by geischmedig-panzer magnetic deflector shields placed in the nose of each mobile armor, effectively rendering them immune to beam based attacks as long as they were facing their foe and their batteries lasted. So, the Alliance had finally decided to get creative with its mass produced machinery... just his ill luck. His bad day grew worse as accurate fire from the nose cannons of the mobile armors tracked into and through his position, blowing his prized trophy rifle to pieces in his hand and deeply cracking his Elementals limb and torso armor over much of his front.

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Finding himself seperated from Shinn once the fire pinning him down had slackened off, Jeremiah was given little time to look around for his young ally, before coming under renewed attack himself, from more Alliance forces diverted from the main battle once the presence of the Pulsar was discovered. His new foes advanced slowly, as a unit, advancing as a line four abreast whenever Jeremiah backed away, and quick to circle up like a wagon train of the ancient west whenever he started to press the attack. The clumsy, plodding enemy mobile suits... lumbering four legged monstrosities with legs and bodies like a Bucue, but with a Strike Dagger's torso, arms and head tacked on to the front... certainly reminded him of wagons, forced to resort to tactics to make up for lack of individual skill. But damn them, it was effective. Their oversized shields projected a Lightwave barrier type effect, much like the old Umbrella of Artemis, that was fully proof against both physical and beam based attacks, and worse yet the shields were able to link together in a field effect that was both larger and stronger than the four shields individually, making the four machines a walking bastion that he could not penetrate, for all his maneuverability and speed.

Jeremiah had little trouble evading the copious amounts of enemy return fire... the awkward machines were as heavily armed as they were armored, mounting missiles, clusters of gatling cannon, artillery mounts and hyper impulse weaponry on their arms, shoulders and backs...but he was confronted with the unpleasant dilemma of an ultimate sword faced with an impenetrable shield... he could already feel the blood pounding in his temples as a truly horrific headache began to build. It was like the Pulsar itself was getting fed up with the situation, just as much as Jeremiah himself was. He felt his heart beat faster as he fought down a wave of red hatred for the Alliance soldiers trying to kill him, absentmindedly noting a corresponding increase in reactor output that had actually pre-dated, just slightly, his unconscious impulse-command for more power. Quite how the Pulsar could have anticipated his desire was an interesting, if academic, issue that he would have to pursue carefully after the battle was over and done.

Completely out of the blue an explosion of agony raced through his entire body, pain so powerful he blacked out for a moment, blinded and gasping as his nerves seemed to conduct liquid fire just under his skin. For a moment he panicked, thinking his body had just suffered some grievous injury, before remembering that his body was senseless, being that it was connected to a nerveless machine that could feel no pain, not even if the Pulsar lost a limb or two. Besides, a mere thought brought up his status display inside his mind, revealing that his body... that is, the Pulsar... was completely unharmed. The thing was, he wasn't particularly near where he'd last been consciously aware of being however. Another thought brought up a chronometer and he blinked, appalled to discover a seven second gap between the start of the blackout and waking up again... seven seconds that he could account for no conscious actions, but during which the Pulsar had moved almost ten kilometers straight up from the battle zone. Without any direction from him whatsoever, the Gundam had re-adjusted its position to avoid something that he hadn't even been aware of. _What the hell... is happening?_ Jeremiah thought, bemused and more than a little frightened. _And why now? This hasn't happened in any of the test runs, not even the endurance ones. What caused the Pulsar to take control?_

Jeremiah was at least partly answered less than five seconds later, when a threat alarm pinged on the inside of his skull, hard enough to hurt. He couldn't see it, but a thin trickle of blood leaked out of his nostrils, almost invisible in the warm pink semi-liquid he was suspended in. He was being targeted from below, by several enemies. He quickly oriented the Pulsar to face the threat and activated the Positron shields, wanting a few more moments to try and recover his equilibrium while he worked out just what the hell was up with his machine. His confidence almost cost him his life... a pair of almost blindingly bright blue-white beams seared up at him from the base below, by the time he even saw the beams they had reached him, piercing the anti-matter fields of the Positron Shields like they weren't even there, one beam bored right through the top of the shoulder armor on the Pulsar's right side, while the other missed wide by less than two feet. Before the FRALA teams below could react and sweep their beams like the magnified laser scapels they were, cutting the Pulsar into smoking pieces, more nigh unbearable agony jolted through Jeremiah's nervous system, as the unbelievably fast computer systems that made up the "OS" connecting the NIC system to the Pulsar mainframe overrode manual control in the interest of self preservation again.

Self preservation may have been ascribing too much to the prototype system, but it was as accurate a description as any. Though not self aware by any means, the NIC system and Pulsar were designed to mimic the human nervous system and brain to a high degree, taking and recording the inputs from its pilot, storing them for later study and even use, as a sort of "progressive adaptation and action reinforcement" ability. This ability would allow the NIC and Pulsar to increase its pilots reaction time to near instantaneous levels, at least when performing certain oft performed actions, like a certain sword swing or aerial maneuver. Noah had once likened it to muscle memory... like how a person could teach themselves to reach for a wallet from a certain pocket all the time, because that was where they always stored it, even when there was no wallet there. The NIC system and by extension the Pulsar had "action memory" and so it would "learn" over time to increase its pilot's abilities. At least that was how the theory went... Jeremiah didn't recall anything about the system being able to override his own nervous system to force him to take the so called "remembered actions". And there was certainly nothing he recalled knowing about the near crippling pain he was experiencing all of a sudden.

When next Jeremiah came back to his senses, another thirty seconds had passed, and now he was well clear of the Galileo LFB battle zone. His flesh body ached slightly, much like it had after the stresses he'd placed on it during his desperate chase of the nuclear missiles during the surprise attack on the PLANTS during the Battle of Carpentaria. The Gravity Reduction System did a magnificent job of reducing the stress placed on the body by extremely high speed maneuvers... emphasis on reducing, not eliminating. He would still feel the strain of near flank speed turns and evasive maneuvers, and that dull ache was currently spreading throughout his flesh body. It was nothing compared to the ultra-migraine brewing in his head, but it certainly didn't help matters any. He tasted a metallic tang, and realized that he must have bitten his tongue or the inside of his mouth sometime during the maneuvers. What he didn't know was that while he had indeed done just that, his nose was now bleedingly continuously and freely, with additional bleeding starting to come from his ears and the tear ducts in his eyes. He forced himself to ignore the pain, and took a look at his surroundings.

The Pulsar was now almost a thousand kilometers away from the lunar surface, and was continuing to drift away at a speed of more than five kilometers per second from pure momentum. The Pulsar was unharmed, except for the smoking scar carved into the top of the right shoulder, where that insanely powerful beam of what must have been focused light had cut through the armor like it was mist. Focused light was the only thing that made sense... light being a wave effect and not a particle at all, it would be totally unaffected by anti-matter or magnetic shielding, unlike the magnetically sheathed and super-heated charged gas that made up beam blasts; or the streams of charged particles of hyper impulse or ion weaponry. The nano-cluster self repair system designed by Noah was already at work, the microscopic robots already pulling specs of space dust and particles of interstellar gas from the near-void the Pulsar was drifitng through and converting them, molecule by molecule, into replacement armor plating to replace that which had been burned away. The process would take hours in the material starved depths of space, maybe even as much as days, but yet another facet of the incredible Gundam was making it's presence known.

There was nothing on his close range sensors, so he switched to long range, though the picture shown to him wasn't nearly as precise as he could have wished for. At his current position he was too far away to tap into the fleet-net on the support ships, so he couldn't use that to get a view on the battle from the CIC computers, he had to rely on only what his own individual sensors could detect. And currently, that was a whole lot of nothing. He was picking up flickers of activity on the extreme edge of his scopes, likely the battles raging at the light-side LFBs, and a considerably clearer if still grainy picture of the battle at Galileo. He started to gradually slow the Pulsar down, not wanting to get too far away from the battle zone, even if he was only a matter of minutes away, even at merely cruise speed. Two sudden blips on his sensors caused him to jerk around in surprise... it wouldn't be out of the question to encounter some drifting space junk from the debris belt out at this distance, or even detrius from an earlier lunar battle during the last war, but the returns he was getting were too big for that. One was roughly mobile suit size, a little bigger, and was about a thousand kilometers away, off to Earthward; the other was much more massive, the size of a destroyer or small cruiser, and moving at a goodly speed... more than twenty kilometers per second, a speed which would strain even Jeremiah to maintain for too long; the large object was about eight thousand kilometers away, towards the PLANTS..

Even as he watched, the first and smaller object suddenly changed course and velocity, reversing its previous course which would have brought it down somewhere on the dark side of the Moon, now it was heading towards a common course with the larger object and was dramatically accelerating, in obvious preparation for meeting up with the large object. A sudden memory of a pre-battle brief he'd received flashed through his head, and it was but a thoughtspan more to confirm... the larger object was indeed inbound to the Moon, coming from the direction of the PLANTS... specifically the November Colonies. Then the large object must be the so called "super-weapon" the Alliance had used in the despicable attack on November City. An unamused frown stamped itself across Jeremiah's face... though he was glad to be able to avenge the senseless and vile attack on the PLANTS, he would have preferred to do so at a time when he was not suffering from operating system issues. The frown slowly turned into a smirk, as the soldier side of him piped up, reminding him that battles were always fought when you weren't totally ready, that was just the way of things and there was no use bitching about it.

_Maybe this is God's way of telling me he has something else in mind for me than slaughtering the Alliance assholes on the Moon. In any case, this is a golden opportunity to set things right and send a strong message to those spineless Alliance leaders down on Earth... send up your death machines and watch them be destroyed like bugs under the heel of the ZAFT military machine, personified by this Gundam, the Pulsar._ Jeremiah thought vindictively as he turned the Pulsar around and began increasing his speed again. Within seconds he had matched speeds with the oncoming large mass, and from there it was only a matter of altering his course to intersect and coincide with the enemy. In less than four minutes, Jeremiah Borander and the Pulsar would have their chance to accomplish a destiny brighter than anything he could have possibly imagined... or else fall prey to a dream darker than they could conceive of, at the hands of Zacharis Frost and the Judgement.

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Light is not precisely a wave nor a particle, but exhibits characteristics of both. For my purposes, focused light weapons, like lasers, thus FRALA, are different from charged particle weapons, like hyper impulse or positron cannons, or magnetically sheathed plasma i.e. beam, weapons. And its true... there are positrons which are the antimatter particles of electrons, anti-protons for protons and even anti-neutrons for neutrons, which is kinda strange because they don't have a charge anyway, but still have an associated anti-matter particle, but no anti-photons or anti-light waves. But to get much deeper into that would be more than my education in that sphere of atomic physics can really handle.


	86. Fall of a God

"And what is this, now? What in all the names of hell is somebody else doing out, this far from the Moon?" Frost gritted out, pressed back into his cockpit couch by a force that was exerting more than fifteen times his normal weight on his body. A normal human wouldn't be able to inflate their lungs under that much weight, it would be like trying to breathe with a horse sitting on your chest, and even for the BCPU 6 it was no picnic, each breath a brief flare of oh so delectable pain, a pain he used to channel his anger into the energy he used to not only draw his next breath, but to focus his thoughts on his plans for the future. His previous grand plan for resolving the Coordinator Issue was now a smoking ruin, along with the right arm of the Judgement, where his Positron cannon had used to be. And all thanks to the usual crowd of meddlers, those persistent bugs he had failed time and again to eliminate. He'd hurt them, he knew that, just from the hatred he received from them whenever they encountered each other. There were no enemies more at odds than him and those damn Archangel bastards, especially Pink. But he just couldn't finish them, no matter how many times they crossed paths. It was enough to make a guy think that perhaps he wasn't supposed to kill them, though that was a ludicrous thought, that their destiny could somehow be more important than his.

It was getting to the point where he was seriously planning not how he'd kill them, but how he would adapt their presence into his strategies so he could accomplish his goals even with their interference... and the fact that he was doing that was enraging him to no end. Drool cracked and flaked in icy streamers from his lips, knocked free of his face by the trembling effort of drawing each hissing breath through the grimace of fury that his face was locked into. "More to the point, what is someone else doing out here, moving on a converging course and speed with me that no mere human should be able to withstand? Not even another BCPU, even Cray if he were still alive, could handle this stress..." Frost murmured.

He took another look at his scopes and adjusted a few secondary screens as well, the normally quick movements a serious, multisecond undertaking at 15G's. He and the unknown enemy... everything that wasn't him was an enemy now... were moving on a converging course that would end with them moving in parallel within the next four minutes. One minute after that convergance, the unmanned supply shuttle containing his spare munitions and the Fury would also reach convergance and a parallel course. Roughly four minutes after that, assuming he didn't deccelerate or change his course... something he had little intention of doing... the Judgement would "converge" with the Moon. Likely in a rather spectacular fashion that not even he thought he had a chance in hell of surviving. Which was why he'd altered the Fury's course to meet up with his own, so that he could transfer to his more familiar machine, after setting the Judgement's systems to guide its course to Copernicus City, where it would doubtlessly do an admirable job of heralding his arrival... either with the initial impact or when the Judgement's self destruct system annihilated whatever was left in a several kilometer radius.

But now even that simple a plan was getting complicated, with this enemy that would be well within combat range with plenty of time to spare before Frost could transfer to the Fury. And he would be at an extreme disadvantage, trying to fight with the Judgement while fighting to move fifteen times his own weight every time he moved even a finger. It was certainly going to be an interesting challenge... he smiled when he realized he was already anticipating that there would be a fight with this unknown foe. For all he knew, the enemy would kill themselves off trying to match velocity with him, but somehow he doubted that his luck ran that way... if things were going to be that easy, he wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place. He flicked his eyes... one of a very few movements which wasn't a strain... over another bank of instruments. His ammunition levels were running dangerously low... not more than a few hundred gatling cannon rounds for the entire system, and less for the CIWS. Missiles were flat out, though he still had plenty of power for the left arm Gottfried's Maul system. One more reason he'd be glad to get back into the Fury... his swords and knives didn't get low on ammo.

The time ticked by with almost unbearable sloth, with nothing for him to do but wait and think. He wasn't as fidgety as Cray was, but neither was he meditative like Ashino could be... senseless waiting really got on his nerves after only a few minutes, and he'd been waiting for almost eight hours now. He was always ready to kill someone in a bloody fashion, but it would be no exaggeration to say he was feeling several degrees more murderous than usual, if for no other reason than to break up the monotony. That thought train triggered another, and he found himself smiling. Maybe this was divine providence, or fate, or destiny or whatever... suddenly being provided with a target to vent his frustrations on after hours of inactivity. Never one to stay depressed with the unfairness of his life for long, within a minute Frost was eagerly anticipating the confrontation with the unknown enemy, even though it was a disruption to his plans. A minute after that he was furious again, because it was taking SO DAMN LONG!

Finally the time of convergance drew near, and he toggled to his short range sensors to get a first look at his chew toy... or foe, whichever appellation proved more appropriate. "And just what the hell..." Frost snorted. "...is THAT supposed to be?" he asked the empty cockpit. "Is it a noodle or a mobile suit? I may not be much of one for mechanical engineering or self defense, but even I would put armor over structural frames. What, is this scarecrow supposed to be the scary new ZAFT Gundam?" Frost snorted derisively again. "Stiff breeze ought to be enough to knock that metal corpse over." He narrowed his eyes and studied the enemy machine much more closely. "That means it's got a lot of tricky things built into it, because theres no way it should be able to move that fast otherwise. Let's see what the other sensors can pick up, hmm?" Frost adjusted his screens a few more times, his eyes narrowing further upon reading each new data display.

"Blasted thing is putting out more heat than the entire Judgement, even under full blast. What the hell's IN that thing, a star? And... hmm... nice weapon choice. I approve wholeheartedly." Frost paused, admiring the massive double edged anti-ship sword, as well as what looked like weaponized chains in each forearm and especially the extendable claws on each finger. The bowgun slung on its back was an interesting idea as well, very fitting for someone who fought with a combat ideology close to Frost's own. "This should be very entertaining indeed." Frost smiled. The smile faded slightly after a further thought... "Though it would be much better if I was in the Fury." Frost sighed. "Guess I just have to make do, such a bother." A sudden inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt and his fingers jerked over to his little used comm system.

"Unidentified approaching mobile suit, I see you. This is Zacharis Frost, in the Judgement. I won't question your suicidal nature, though I must say I approve of it. I hadn't thought I'd get much in the way of excitement until those insufferble spoilsports chasing me finally caught up, but from the looks of you, I was pleasantly mistaken, for once. I do hope you aren't all just looks though... I'd be terribly disappointed if you don't keep me entertained for at least a few minutes. Course, you're going to be dead either way, I suppose..." Frost said cheerily over the open comm.

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"Unidentified approaching mobile suit, I see you. This is Zacharis Frost, in the Judgement. I won't question your suicidal nature, though I must say I approve of it. I hadn't thought I'd get much in the way of excitement until those insufferble spoilsports chasing me finally caught up, but from the looks of you, I was pleasantly mistaken, for once. I do hope you aren't all just looks though... I'd be terribly disappointed if you don't keep me entertained for at least a few minutes. Course, you're going to be dead either way, I suppose..."

Jeremiah didn't quite know what to make of the enemy pilot opening communications with him, with less than a minute to go before their paths converged and they broke into combat, but he did know one thing... the other guy scared him. Just from the sound of the other guy's voice, Jeremiah was able to get some sense of just what a head case he was soon to be confronting. He'd heard stories, and read reports and even confidential psychiatric summaries of therapy sessions many ZAFT soldiers had undergone after being personal witnesses to the atrocities committed by the Merciless at Carpentaria... and had scoffed at them, disbelieving even with the pictures and video files as proof. He wasn't scoffing now, there was no room to disbelieve that chill, dead and utterly malicious voice coming at him over the comm. All the videos and pictures came flashing back into his mind all of a sudden... the mobile suit painted in gore, the balls of crushed people being tossed about, the laughter that had haunted the dreams of dozens... all of it took on a startling realism that he'd previously denied and he shivered, quivering the GRS gel around him. His opponent was evil, evil in a way that horror movie villians were evil, but more so because this wasn't a movie.

To take his mind off these uncomfortable thoughts, he reviewed again the sensor reports he was getting from the Pulsar's examination of the onrushing enemy superweapon, the so called "Judgement". He was appalled at the arsenal it had once toted, barely able to comprehend the damage it must have inflicted on the PLANTS and ZMHQ, before being confronted by the rebels of the Clyne Faction. Even now, in a reduced and damaged state, it had more firepower than a Nazca class. It's current primary weapon system looked to be an array of six 75cm high energy beam cannons that took up its entire lower left arm, while the wreckage of a massive positron cannon weighted down the right arm. Dual 120mm gatling cannon turrets swiveled on all four limbs, and he knew that if even a few shells slipped by his defenses he would be done for, as even small fractures in the Pulsar's frame would spell his doom under high speed maneuvers, not even mentioning the fact that his armor would be little protection against the high explosive bullets. Empty missile ports gaped like disease sores over much of the Judgement's body, and frayed tethers trailed behind it like forlorn kite strings, where wire guided "gun barrel" pods had once been controlled. Mounts for strategic level missile systems projected jaggedly from the shoulders of the Judgement, thankfully empty now, their payloads destroyed fruitlessly.

_Nothing I can't handle. Just like a Agamemnon class, except humanoid and controlled by a freak of nature. I still have the advantage here... his weapons can't get through my Positron shields, unlike whatever that laser weapon at Galileo can. And that monstrous hunk of parts is going to be as clumsy as a drunk man, if not more so... I'll be able to fly rings around him. And he doesn't have a GRS... if he tries to stop suddenly or maneuver in any but the most basic fashion, his seat restraints will probably cut him into pieces, shortly before he liquifies on his control surfaces. He talks a good piece, but he hasn't any ground to stand on, in more than a literal sense._ Jeremiah's thoughts were rapid but calming all the same, as he reminded himself of his considerable advantages and his foes shortcomings. So what, he wasn't in a hundred meter tall death machine... he didn't need to be. He was in the Pulsar, for God's sake... there was no safer place to be in all of space. A sudden spasm of pain curled him up violently, and fresh blood squirted unnoticed from his nostrils, ears and tear ducts. _Gotta finish this up fast... somethings wrong with the system... I'm well synchornized... shit shouldn't be happen'n like this..._

Suddenly, the time of convergance was on him, the Judgement swelling from the size of a pin head to life size in less than two seconds as the Pulsar matched courses and speeds with the hurtling superweapon, maintaining about seven hundred meters of distance between them. Up close, Jeremiah could see the wear and tear the Judgement's armor had received, and his sensors identified several weak spots that he could quickly exploit, especially on the left side of the torso. Still, even though he knew what to expect, the sheer scale of the Alliance machine gave him pause for a second, as he stared at the grotesque weapon that had caused so much death in such a short amount of time. That second was almost too long, as the enemy wasted no time on further verbal taunting, instead swinging its left arm around and firing all six Gottfried high energy beam cannons at the Pulsar. Jeremiah beat the Pulsar to the draw this time, snapping up his right arm and activating the Positron shield on his own, feeling only a slight quiver as the field of constrained anti-matter dissipated the onrushing energy torrent in a bright flash of light.

"Impressive..." Frost seemed to drag the word on for several times as long as it should have lasted. "I knew you were going to be a tricky bastard the moment I laid eyes on you. I was right... this is going to be fun."

"Not nearly as much for you as it will be for me, asshole." Jeremiah couldn't help but reply. There was something just too... frightnening... about letting Frost get the last word in. He couldn't let the guy get the upper hand, even in the pyschological battle. Maybe especially in the pyschological battle, since that was one area where Jeremiah didn't have overwhelming advantages.

"Oooh, delicious repartee... I'm shaking in my boots over here, you can be assured." Frost was quick to reply, even as his gatling cannons focused their fire, attempting to batter their way through the Positron shield, to zero effect... the shells disintegrated as soon as they hit the reddish field and they didn't diminish the strength of the field at all, in the face of the power the FPR was putting into it. "Though you certainly do talk tough for someone who just hides behind a shield. Typical of you Coordinators, I suppose. Always with your tech devices and whatnot... though it didn't much help them at November 8, did it? Quite a sad place, now... I was able to make an enjoyable mess of the place before I left, though not nearly to the extent I originally planned."

"Monster... your bloody path ends here, I swear it. I, Jeremiah Borander, in the Pulsar, will put an end to you here and now!" Jeremiah spat. He wasn't prepared for the response he got, he'd expected curses or even an attack... what he got was unrestrained amusement, a cackling laughter that set his teeth on edge and sent gibbers of instinctual fear running through his brain. "What!? What, damn it!? Why are you laughing!?"

Frost managed to choke out a reply through his hellacious giggling. "I do swear... irony... is such... a jest! This is... just too... rich to bear!" Frost didn't let his laughter get in the way of his better instincts though, as he tried to blast the Pulsar with another volley from the Gottfried's Maul, an attack that was once again thwarted by the seemingly impenetrable disc shaped field of reddish energy projecting from the Pulsar's upraised palm. Frost dearly wanted to know what was up with that, it was most annoying to be able to see a target but not be able to hit it. "I suppose... I should call you... "Uncle" then? Or perhaps "Cousin"?" Frost broke down in another spate of giggles.

"What the hell are you babbling about!?" Jeremiah demanded, confused and more than a little unnerved at the continued laughter he was hearing from the other guy. Was he insane or something? But who would let a crazy person pilot a mobile suit, much less something like the Judgement?

"My, my... you really aren't aware of what your family is up to, are you? Perhaps you are familiar with a man named Franklin Borander? Doctor Franklin Borander... Doc to me and my ilk, of course." Frost replied, still swallowing chuckles. He eyed his timers... the Fury was less than forty five seconds away.

"How do you know my oldest brother? He was exiled to... Earth..." Jeremiah trailed off.

"Indeed he was... and there he found plenty of subjects to practice his rather... unique... hobbies on. One of which was me." Frost answered. "I suppose you could call me his son, even though there is no blood relation. I am his greatest creation... the most perverse and monstrous being he was able to create using methods you cannot even conceive of, my good Uncle."

"So Frank is still alive...and working for the enemy. Just when I thought there was no place lower for him to go..." Jeremiah swore foully.

"Well, now there isn't. You see, he's dead now. Has been for a while... ever since I crushed the life from him with my own two arms, after I tortured him to the brink of death in order to gain information on my destiny from him. He's currently cooking in the hottest fires of hell... keeping them burning for when I get to join him." Frost said wistfully. It was the tone of voice that did it... the casual talk of torture and murder, combined with the tangible desire for more of the same, that pushed Jeremiah over the edge. A little bit was also that it was his own elder brother that was the subject, even though Jeremiah deplored Frank for his detestable hobbies and practices.

"No more! This ends NOW!" Jeremiah disengaged the Positron shield and swung his zweihander off his shoulders, his thrusters juddered as he forced an abrupt course change on them as he darted towards the Judgement with the speed of thought. In an eyeblink he was on the other side of the Judgement, which was now missing it's left arm from the shoulder down, with a deep gash carved in the right torso armor as well. Chattering 120mm shells briefly tried to follow the Pulsar, but the ZAFT Gundam moved far faster than the auto-tracking systems could follow and they quickly used up the last of their ammunition anyway, falling silent as the Pulsar reversed thrust and came back for another go without changing speed, a neat trick that had Frost raising both eyebrows in jealousy. Twenty seconds to convergance with the Fury.

Frost snarled at the fresh pain ripping through his body as he whipped the Judgement's right arm up into the path of the Pulsar, only to lose it from the wrist down as the Pulsar altered course ninety degrees to avoid it, slashing it apart with its sword at the same time. "No fair... turning like that should be impossible." Frost complained. Fifteen seconds to convergance.

"It is impossible... for you stupid Natural scum!" Jeremiah retorted, reversing course again, ignoring the ache spreading through his body from all the strain on his physical form. This was what the Pulsar was designed for... he wouldn't allow himself to be the weak link, not now, not here, not against this foe.

"Here's a news flash for you, dear Uncle... I'm not a Natural. Not anymore." Frost grunted, spraying ineffectual CIWS fire as the Pulsar flickered by, a blur even to his vision. A change in balance announced the loss of a leg from the mid thigh down. "You don't fuck around, do you, Uncle? Not going to take you long to tear me apart, not with that sword and that speed." Ten seconds left.

"Not quickly enough!" Jeremiah sliced off the other leg, and halted, floating next to the cockpit area of the Judgement as its CIWS guns spun dry. Legless, with only one arm and no weapons remaining, the Judgement was little more than a slab of metal waiting to be scrapped. Jeremiah scanned the Judgement more deeply, and quickly determined the exact location of the cockpit. He placed the tip of the sword directly over that location, pushing firmly through the geischmedig-panzer shield effect covering the location. Jeremiah saw the Judgement's right arm start to move out of the corner of his eye and felt the Pulsar start to move, but he forced it to stay in place with an effort of will. Moving now would force him to come back around to finish the enemy off and that was just unacceptable to the enraged Jeremiah. "Good riddan..."

Jeremiah's pronouncement was ruined by another unbearable spasm of pain. His entire body felt like it had suddenly caught fire and this time the pain did not subside quickly. It took him a precious few seconds to realize that the pain was caused by his battle of wills, or whatever it was, with the Pulsar's action memory. And by the time he realized it, it was too late for even the Pulsar to take evasive action, as the severed stump of the Judgement's right arm swung around sharply and smashed the Pulsar away like a man swatting a bee out of midair. The blow was solid, the impact incredible and well transmitted through the semi-liquid gel... Jeremiah felt like he'd been struck by a sledgehammer on the entirety of his body at once... if it weren't for the fact that the gel was also inside his body he would have been pulped by the impact, instead of stunned. Armor shards scattered like chaff and the Pulsar was knocked spinning away from the Judgement like a rag doll, its thrusters flaring wildly as they responded to the numbed thoughts bouncing around inside Jeremiah's disoriented head.

The pain remained constant, and in fact grew stronger, as Jeremiah unconsciously contended with the NIC system's action memory as both he and the automatic systems of the Pulsar fought to regain control of the mobile suit. Jeremiah wanted to turn around and attack the Judgement again, the Pulsar wanted to slow down and assess possible structural damage. He was no longer synchornized with his machine, in fact they were now pushing opposite goals. And the Pulsar's nervous system operated at 450 volts and more than fifty amps, while Jeremiah's was less than a volt and much less than a milliamp in comparison. Electricity follows the path of least resistance when it is able to, much like water... and the Pulsar's action memory was the stronger of the resistances, so in turn it was Jeremiah's nervous system that went into overload. The Coordinator Ace-Commander quite literally had his brain and central nervous system fried to a crisp while he was still alive... part of him caught fire from the inside, at least until the nerves charred out and stopped conducting the current.

This was the NIC flaw that Noah had discovered and kept quiet about... that the action memory of the NIC was able to overload the actions of the pilot, even to the extent of causing physical harm and death to the pilot, if ever they became unsynchornized with the action memory for any given situation. The Pulsar was a machine... it couldn't see the reasons for taking a different course of action depending on the circumstances... it saw an attack so it evaded as it "remembered" to do, even if not evading was a better course of action at that specific time. So unless the pilot always responded the same way to a stimulus, there was the potential to become unsynchornized with the NIC, with varyingly severe results. Prolonged NIC usage was therefore extremely dangerous... but Noah remained the only person aware of the flaw... it did tend to creep up on you if you weren't looking for it, as Jeremiah had just discovered, belatedly.

Freed from the interference of the biological control unit, the Pulsar decelerated and came to a halt in space, several thousand kilometers above the lunar surface and the Galileo LFB. With no further input from the biological control unit, it could take no action, especially since there was no outside stimulus to provoke its action memory... having decelerated, the Pulsar was almost instantly left far behind the hurtling Judgement, which had just converged with the Fury at about the time the Pulsar stopped moving. Frost was displeased at the way events turned out, but he didn't have the time or ability to do anything about it. He couldn't even hit Copernicus City anymore, due to his inability to adequately change the Judgement's course with the loss of the leg mounted maneuvering thrusters. He still set the Citadel array and other systems to self destruct mode... the Judgement would make its burial site known, no matter where it landed, that was for sure... and rapidly EVA'ed over to the Fury, to begin a controlled deceleration to a more usual speed with a good two minutes to spare.

The advent of the Judgement falling from the heavens like a meteor did a lot to change the course of the battle at Galileo LFB. Having four fifths of the base suddenly reduced to a radioactive crater almost a kilometer deep might have had something to do with that. Roughly a thousand tons of Phase Shift armored metal moving at more than 20 kilometers per second, containing three high powered nuclear reactors, not to mention the thermonuclear self destruct devices... all four of them... plus the overloading of the Citadel Lightwave Barrier system... the shockwave was felt on the entire dark side of the moon, and the flash of light was visible on the light side. The dust cloud would be visible on Earth for weeks as it slowly spread around three quarters of the lunar surface. The ZAFT raiding force was almost instantly annihilated, along with all the Alliance forces engaged with them, except for those deep within the base, attacking Shinn's Elemental. It was a terrible blow indeed to the Alliance... but not mortal.

Over ninety percent of the prototype weapon systems... the Moebius Flares, Cataphracts, Cavaliers and FRALA teams survived the impact, along with Eric Kellson and Cyprus Finch, though neither man would directly influence the remainder of the battles on the Moon, due to injuries sustained in the fight or from the explosion. Still, the sudden inexplicable loss of even a small force was enough to cause the otherwise firm ZAFT morale to ebb slightly, and in the high echelons of command even more so, because the fantastically expensive and wholly irreplacable Pulsar was also missing. It didn't take long for the rest of the ZAFT force to notice that their Gundam was gone, and the Alliance forces soon realized it as well. The appearance of the prototype weapon systems on the light side battlefields wholly changed the tide of the campaign. Though relatively few in number, the influx of new and different strategies and capabilities proved to be a catalyst for a sudden resurgence in Alliance morale and subsequent fighting ability. At the end of the day, when both sides had finally called a retreat and gone back to lick their wounds and try and figure out what their next step should be, casualties on both sides were high... the Alliance had suffered the most early on, and ZAFT more later on.

In the end, Alliance casualties ran to about thirty percent in terms of manpower and close to sixty five percent in terms of material... terrible losses, but still well within the capabilities of the Alliance to replace, given time. And time they would have, for ZAFT had taken almost twenty percent losses in manpower and slightly more than fifty percent losses in terms of material... material it would take them four or five times longer to replace than the Alliance and people they wouldn't be able to replace for generations. The second invasion of the Moon was a catastrophe for ZAFT, even if they had inflicted more damage than they suffered... it just didn't matter when you compared the capacities for recovery of the two conflicted powers. An uneasy calm settled over both sides as ZAFT scrambled to come up with a new plan, any plan, that would help stave off the Alliance now that their masterstroke had collapsed in failure... while the Isolationist Alliance was wasting no time in furthering Sai's meticulous plans. Neither side had much time to worry about what the minor players were up to... Frost was quickly forgotten about by most people, once the Judgement was confirmed to be destroyed, and so too for the members of the Clyne Faction, who had arrived too late to affect any outcome on the Moon... much to some people's relief. That is not to say though, that nothing further of note happened between the end of the lunar battles and the next action of the greater war... far from it in fact.

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"So, you're sure its abandoned?" Dearka asked for perhaps the tenth time. Ysak rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth a bit at his friends incessant worrying. They were currently out in a pair of M-4 Guardians, dragging the odd looking mobile suit the Archangel and Kusanagi had stumbled across on their way to the Moon back to the Archangel. Initially they had thought it was some sort of trap, laid by ZAFT, since the mobile suit was umistakably a Coordinator design, at least to Athrun, Dearka and Ysak's experienced eyes... but the mobile suit had just drifted there for more than fifteen minutes, and there wasn't anything else within ten thousand kilometers other than the Moon itself. Probing with vari-camera systems revealed no Mirage Colloid cloaked ambushers in a hundred kilometer sphere, and a mental scan from both Katie and Lacus had revealed no life forms aboard the mobile suit itself. It was possible that the pilot was one of those rare sorts... like Asmodeus or Ashino... who was invisible for whatever reason to Newtype powers, but it was very unlikely.

And so, Dearka and Ysak had gone out in the Guardians to salvage the mobile suit, while Kira and Athrun flew cover nearby, even though there were no enemies. No one minded... there was something very unsettling about this whole situation. The feeling only intensified as they neared the slowly drifting machine, which was fully operational, if slightly battleworn, with cracked armor on its torso but no major damage visible. The spike like protrusions on the backs of its limbs continued to radiate a incredible amount of heat, but the machine remained limp, even after Dearka and Ysak tenatively grabbed its arms. What they of course couldn't know was that the Pulsar had no action memories related to being grabbed by M-4 Guardians, since Jeremiah had never encountered them, so it did not respond to their non hostile presence. Despite being wholly spooked, the two Coordinators had no trouble whatsoever in returning the Pulsar to the Archangel.

By the time they had returned the Guardians to the Kusanagi and ferryed back over to the Archangel, everyone who had a free moment, or could figure out a way to make one, was there, crowding around the feet of the strange looking mobile suit. Even Captain Ramius and Commander Waltfeld were there, though both kept their comm-links handy in case of an alert from the bridge crews. There had been a brief commotion earlier, when the Pulsar, once fitted into a maintenance cradle, had powered down on its own due to action memory, but further and intensive scanning by Lacus and Katie had revealed no living presence inside the machine, so people had calmed down again. Still, people were tense, and Alkire, Raine and Victor all had weapons close to hand as Chief Murdoch screwed up the courage to manually override the cockpit controls and opened the armored hatch of the cockpit. The scene revealed inside would stay with Murdoch in his nightmares for the rest of his life. "WAAAGHH! WHATTHEHOLYFUCKSHITDAMN!" Murdoch windmilled his arms as he propelled himself away from the horror inside the Pulsar's cockpit.

Not being connected to all the specialty systems available on board the _Charles Darwin_, the Pulsar hadn't been able to completely shut it self down without input from the biological control unit... who was unresponsive. So it had turned off the FPR, powered down the weapons, cycled the cooling fluid and pumped as much of the used GRS gel through the filters as it could, but there were a lot of contaminants it was unable to remove, resulting in about 20 percent of the gel remaning in the cockpit region, where it could be easily if unpleasantly shoveled or vaccumed out by maintenance crews. Also, it could not withdraw the NIC interface wires fully from the biological control unit without either aid from a maintenance console or a thought-command from the control unit, which had not been forthcoming. This was a safety feature to prevent inadvertant loss of control at inoppertune times.

What all this amounted to, and which was responsible for Chief Murdoch's reaction, was the charred but still somewhat recognizable corpse of Jeremiah Borander, scores of silvery blood sheened wires protruding from his body and skull, dangling limply in a pool of pinkish sludge full of blood, blackened flesh-ash and offal. The stench was incredible, and the tortured expression on Jeremiah's face hideous in its plain agony, with his limbs contorted and broken in his death spasms, his spine bent nearly in two. Even the battle hardened Alkire or Ysak, playing the tough guys, couldn't look at the remains for long without feeling slightly ill. For some, it was a lot more than slightly ill. Kira and Athrun both puked, Miriallia fainted for a little while and both Lacus and Katie had to sit down pretty suddenly. Derka didn't quite puke, but that was mainly because he hadn't had much to eat during the pursuit, not being very hungry after failing to defeat Frost when they had the chance yet again.

"That is so not what I wanted to see." Dearka managed after a few seconds of gagging. "What the fuck?"

"My sentiments exactly!?" Katie said fervently. "He looks like he caught fire from the inside. What the hell could cause that?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Waltfeld replied absentmindedly, as he studied the tableu, after steeling himself with several quick gasps of air and a hand over his nose and mouth. "Are those wires really coming out of his body?" Nobody moved for a while, all eyes fixed on the abbatoir in the cockpit of the captured machine. At length Alkire sighed and handed his gun off to Raine. He nodded to Victor, who likewise handed his gun to Raine and the two of them then pushed off and floated up to the cockpit.

"Bear in mind I'm no mobile suit expert..." Alkire harrumphed expectantly, but got no response. "...but this cockpit looks different from the ones I'm used to seeing."

"There is no pilot's chair. No control systems I can see... no keyboard or joystick or foot pedals. Nothing. No displays either, except for what looks like a small comm screen. It's also very small... barely big enough to stand in, and you cannot stretch out your arms inside." Victor reported, having stuck his head inside for a better look, nose crinkling at the stench of a battlefield and a fresh corpse. He tenatively reached down and fingered some of the fouled gel, wincing as some flesh bits stuck to his gloves and smeared. "The gel is still warm... he probably died sometime earlier today, maybe within the past few hours. That would also explain the stench and relative lack of rigor mortis. I cannot be certain... I'm no doctor... but his burns look to be electrical in nature. And yes, the wires are coming directly out of his flesh."

"No chair, no controls, no displays? How the hell did he pilot the damn thing then?" Ysak muttered in confusion.

"What kind of mobile suit is this anyway? It's a ZAFT design, you can tell by the look of the head, but this doesn't look like anything I'm familiar with... its not an Elemental of any sort." Athrun commented. "Did ZAFT build a new Gundam? Strange looking thing."

"Well, whatever it is, its ours now." Murrue decided. "I want a medical team down here on the double to remove that corpse and perform an autopsy on him. I want to know how he died and when, if possible. I'd also like to figure out just who the hell he is, he looks slightly familiar." She turned to look at Kira and Athrun as she gave out her orders. "Dr. Simmons isn't here right now, so I want you and Athrun to get with Chief Murdoch and learn what you can about the technical capabilities of this thing, Kira. Lacus, if you would, could you try and contact some of the Clyne Faction intelligence network and see if they have any information on either this machine or its pilot, once we figure out who he is. I want this done fast but right... we're still on approach to the Moon and though fighting has died down considerably, thats no reason to slack off... Frost is still out there somewhere."

What do you want me and mine to do, Captain, ma'am?" Alkire called down, from where he was clambering around the outside of the mobile suit, looking for identifying numerals or designs. There was nothing, not even a ZAFT emblem... just grey-white armor, plain and undetailed. Alkire had heard of military frugality... but there were limits... at least put some camo-paint on the thing.

"You come to the bridge, we're having another command meeting. The Moon battles seem to have come to a draw, which equates to a victory for the Alliance. Still, both sides have hurt each other severely... we need to discuss our new strategic course."

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"When I sent you up to the Moon, I think I remember expressly reminding you not to endanger yourself, because I cannot risk losing my military advisor. I did say that, right?" Sai started talking the moment Cyprus opened the door to the presidential office and walked in. The only other person in the room was Ashino, sitting unobtrusively off in a corner of the room of the bunker-office deep below the streets of New New York City. Sai was sitting behind the large desk made from white veined black marble, signing documents with one hand while reading through reports on a vid-screen built into the top of the desk with the rest of his attention. Multitasking was the only possible way to deal with the workload of being a National... no, a World... leader.

"Even I cannot help it if they choose to drop a meteor onto my head." Cyprus replied easily, with no hint of apology as he adjusted the sling for his broken collarbone, feeling the twinge of pain from his four broken ribs and cracked femur. He also wore a neck brace, several bandages around his concussed head and sported more than seventy stitches on various locations of his body. But he was up, and moving under his own power, and able to think and speak freely, so he had shown up to give his report. "Or a half destroyed superweapon, though at 20 Km/sec it hardly matters what it was, does it, merely that it weighed close to a thousand tons and had four thermonuclear bombs inside it."

Sai stopped signing papers for a moment to rub the bridge of his nose and glance at his friend. He shook his head one more time in exasperation and then broke out in a slight grin. "It's good to see you back, alive and... alive. Vanai will be pleased. We were all worried about you. Even..."

"I was not." Ashino piped up.

"Even Ashino mentioned some concern, after we heard what happened to Galileo." Sai finished anyway. "Though you should have seen Glory's reaction... I thought he was going to commandeer a shuttle to the Moon and search for you himself, for a while."

Cyprus gave a slight smile of his own. "Thomas does have a habit of overreacting, especially when we're on seperate battlefields." the smile faded and he returned to business. "I have the reports ready, sir."

"Speak then, and I'll do my best to listen, and Ashino will memorize what you say anyway and then end up knowing it better than both of us."

"Yes, sir. First, a summary of the battle. The enemy attacked in a series of four waves, the first being comprised of their older but still proven mobile suits. This first wave engaged our outer defence forces and drew them into a pitched battle. Their second wave arrived in a blitzkreig type maneuver, consisting of many elite teams in their newest and best mobile suits, the Elementals, which I have a much more complete technical document to give you for as well. The second wave bypassed the first wave's battle and plunged directly into our main Fleet elements, causing heavy losses. After we conducted a withdrawal to the lunar surface, the ZAFT third and fourth waves, along with reinforcements from the first and second waves, landed their infantry and occupation forces and proceeded to attack our three light side LFB's. A small raiding party was sent to invest the Galileo LFB on the dark side of the moon as well, in order to tie up any possible reinforcements from that quarter." Cyprus replied.

"Fighting was mostly close range and intense from that point on, with ZAFT infantry regiments penetrating the outer defense lines of two LFB's before being confronted and halted by our own infantry strengths, who were fought to a standstill despite three to one odds of numerical superiority. I had culled a group of the more accomplished and experienced pilots from those who had survived the battle against the first and second ZAFT waves and had them sent to Galileo, per your suggestion sir, that the new machines would do best in a limited quantity with more skilled pilots operating them, even if the pilots were not fully familiar with all the machines. The raid on Galileo was disruptive, but still well within the contingency plans I had drawn up... until the enemy unleashed their "cannon", to use a term we discussed, upon us." Cyprus continued, standing comfortably at parade rest, even with all his injuries.

"As in their special weapon that would break the new tactics we've been instituting. So they do have one... damn." Sai muttered.

"Yes, sir. Here, look at this vid file. It's the most clear look we have at the enemy Gundam." Cyprus handed over a data chip. "It was taken by one Captain Eric Kellson, of the 72nd Autonomous Corp. I'm not normally much of one for talking up people from other branches of the service, but I personally feel that Captain Kellson is deserving of special commendation. He shot down or disabled more than ten ZAFT mobile suits during the initial engagment, and also played a strong role in defending the rear echelon areas of Galileo LFB from infiltrating ZAFT raiders, not to mention being the only Alliance pilot to confront the enemy Gundam on two seperate occasions and live to tell the tale. Captain Kellson has had experience fighting Gundams before, in Panama, where he confronted and delayed Ysak Jule and Cagalli Yula Attha for several minutes, giving valuable time for Alliance reinforcements to show up. His heroism and skill are a good example for all our soldiers to look up to."

"Well, if he's good enough to get praise from you, I should probably have a golden statue of him raised somewhere." Sai joked, taking the data chip and putting it into his vid reader. Ashino looked up from his own laptop to watch the short video. There wasn't much to see, besides the skeletal looking mobile suit waving its sword in a salute and then disappearing. Still, Ashino noted several things that made him uneasy... mainly the ease and fluidity with which the Gundam moved its arms and weapon. Piloting skill could do a lot, but there were still limits to what ranges of motion a joystick could translate... and Ashino saw those limits being broken by this Gundam. And then there was how the machine just disappeared at the end of the video. Ashino was more than familiar with the Mirage Colloid system... and the enemy displayed none of the tell tale fading from sight of the particle based cloaking system.

"Experts agree that the Gundam does not deploy any sort of stealth field at the end of the clip. There would be tell tale signs, not least of which would be a slow fading or mist like effect, none of which is apparent. Instead, please watch the last second of the vid again... this time it's set at 1/32 speed." Cyprus told them. Sai saw a flash of light and blinked. Ashino did not blink and managed to catch the brief flare of thrusters igniting and propelling the Gundam up and away, out of the field of vision of the camera. But to move a mobile suit so far so fast... "Our best estimate is that the pilot pulled around 70G with that little stunt. Even if the maneuver lasted for less than a second, which it didn't, a human would be nothing but mush inside any cockpit system we can design. Instead, the Gundam proceeded to wreak havoc amongst our Fleets, displaying combat ability equal to if not greater than that displayed by such notables as Kira Yamato, Rau Le Creusete and Athrun Zala. Best estimate is that 5 percent of all Alliance personnel casualties were due to the presence of this single mobile suit, and close to twelve percent of the material casualties as well."

"One suit did all that?" Sai said, stunned. He'd watched Kira do similar things, but he'd never dreamed someone else would be able to do it. Kira was supposed to be unique, damn it. An Ultimate Coordinator that couldn't be equalled or surpassed. Now it appeared that that might not be the case. And Kira limited himself with his reluctance to kill... this enemy had no such compunctions. "Wait a minute... 70G's?"

"That is correct. I don't know what that Gundam is, but its got some seriously special abilities. Its weapons appear to be entirely melee based, for reasons unknown, but all sources agree that it features impossible levels of maneuverability, speed and agility. Various reports, still unconfirmed by reliable sources, indicate a defensive mechanism proof against any weapon system less powerful than a FRALA. All reports do agree though... this is the same machine that destroyed the 12th lunar fleet during the battle at Carpentaria." Cyprus said neutrally.

"Hmmph. Well isn't that just peachy." Sai allowed himself a moment to grouse. "How did our own new weapons perform?"

"All sources agree that our protoype weapons were the reason the battle went as well for us as it did. The Citadel Shields are very popular, especially. The Moebius Flares have proven to be effective against anything from a Guaize on down, though the new Elementals still give them some problems. The Cataphracts tactics system worked brilliantly, even against the ZAFT Gundam. Their performace was perhaps the most spectacular of the battle, when the four Cataphracts confronted and rebuffed the ZAFT Gundam, which our troops call "the Reaper". And the FRALA teams definitely proved their worth, despite the bugs still being worked out of their weaponry. One report I have says that a single FRALA shot can be credited with destroying three Nazca class destroyers and two GINNs, which I would ordinarily find hard to credit... if I hadn't seen what they could do on the test range."

Sai craned his head around and looked at Ashino, who had gone back to studying his laptop... a deceptive gesture that meant Ashino was thinking hard about something and using the laptop as a barrier to being talked to. Sai chose to ignore the habit for the moment. "Ashino, please give me the figures on the new production runs and training reports again." Ashino's shoulders twitched slightly at the unexpected interruption... Sai was generally most courteous in dealing with Ashino's withdrawn nature... this was but one of a handful of times that Sai had pressured him when he was thinking about something else. And his mind was currently scattered to the four winds, and all because of a single name. Kellson. Eric Kellson, of the 72nd AC. The bigger brother of one Jean Kellson... a man Ashino had once sworn to save, because Jean had asked him to. Jean... a girl he had spent more than a few passing moments thinking about. He'd never managed to find out for sure what had happened to her, given how his last battle at Panama had ended.

"Ashino?" Sai prompted, causing the BCPU to jerk upright and nearly spill his laptop onto the ground. "You okay? You zoned out for a moment there." Ashino's face heated with embarassment... he couldn't believe he'd just tuned Sai out during an important brief to daydream about a girl. Even if the girl was Jean.

"Pardon me. I was doing some deep thinking." Ashino closed his eyes and gathered his photographic memory together. "We currently are producing Moebius Flares at the rate of ten per day. Cataphracts are being produced at the rate of three per day, while the Cavaliers and Dagger JA's are each being produced at the rate of ten per day. All new Dagger JA's and Cavaliers are being equipped with Citadel Shields as standard equipment. We currently have ten vehicle based FRALA units in addition to the five mobile suit units. The fourth Templar unit should be online in two days, with subsequent Templar's being produced every three days afterwards. The new Devilfish class submersible mobile armor has also recently finished prototype trials and will be beginning main line production within the next four days. We have three Archmage class mobile field bases, with the fourth and fifth still in the early stages of construction; they wont be ready for at least a week. All five of our new piloting academies are graduating classes every two weeks, the average class size is forty pilots, all of whom are qualified to operate any of the new mobile suits or mobile armors, except for the Templars, which require an additional month of schooling." Ashino recited the figures he'd memorized that morning without even a slight hesitation, even though he'd only seen them twice. The vagaries of a BCPU's memory... try as he might he couldn't remember his past, but raw data was easy.

"What about the Independance?" Sai asked, referring to the Gundam he had ordered built some time ago. It had just recently been finished, though it was still listed as a prototype, like all the GAT series machines were. Sai knew that Ashino had been heavily involved in the designing and testing of the Isolationist Gundam, but he'd deliberately kept his attention elsewhere so he could be pleasantly surprised at a time when he needed cheering up. Ashino actually smiled, which Sai took to be a good sign indeed.

"My Gundam, you mean? It is... well, it is very good. Very, very good. It is so nice to be a pilot able to finally give input to a design team that listens to what you have to say... I can't even express how frustrating it is to try and work with people that ask for your advice and then ignore you, but that is the opposite of what I experienced this time. I feel like I really had a hand in making the Independence what it is." Ashino replied happily.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense or anything, lets hear some details." Sai prompted, pleased that his friend was happy,

"I've heard a few things from Thomas, but he has a habit of garbling things he doesn't really understand, so I'd like to get a more accurate picture, if possible." Cyprus added.

"Okay... umm... let me think..." Ashino hedged for a moment, uncomfortable with the sudden spotlight, but glad of the opportunity to talk about a subject he was an expert in. "It's heavily based on the Bane, my old mobile suit, but much improved in all aspects. It's nearly as big as the Merciless, but not anywhere near as clumsy or slow. In keeping with my battle philosophy it favors ranged weapons that do best at medium to close range, and it also incorporates many abilities that dovetail well with your own suggestions for our battle tactics, Sai. For primary weapons the Independence carries a twin 120mm gatling cannon in the right hand, and has a 580mm hyper impulse cannon onthe center torso. Secondary weapons include two 200mm high energy beam cannons, like the old Calamity had, per shoulder and two missile 30 racks mounted in the elongated HiMat style wings. I'll most likely be using either Pilums or other special munitions for those missiles. Tertiary weapon systems include two 100mm linear cannons mounted on the shield, a beam glaive for melee, and a Mjolnir CIC (Charged Ion Cannon) with associated power leeching systems in each palm. Despite the quantity of weaponry, the primarly energy based structure of the armaments cut the weight considerably, allowing for extra maneuvering thrusters, giving the Independence the same agility as the original Bane."

"Bigger, faster, stronger... we should have had this months ago. I just cannot understand why Cervantes blinkered himself so. For all his faults, he was nothing short of a brilliant man, in his own way, and the state he left CWM's future technologies division... why?" Sai grumbled, clenching a fist in frustration. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. "Well, no use crying over spilt milk now. We've taken steps in the right direction, and we will continue to do so, in the time bought for us by our forces valiant efforts on the Moon. Cyprus, I want a rough draft of your orders for the relocation of all Coordinators from the Earth... by force if need be... on my desk in three days. Assuming no glaring problems, which I don't expect..." Sai was cut off by a trill and quick series of flashing lights coming from his desk. He stabbed his finger down on a button. "I thought I specifically directed that all calls be held until my meeting was ov..."

"The First Lady has entered labor, Mr.President. You instructed me to inform you no matter what was going on at the time..." Corporal Ramierez, formerly of the Hellhounds and now one of the members of the new Presidential Guard, which served as security for both Sai and Vanai, said brusquely. "She's on her way to the Madison Gardens Medical Center right now. I should stress that everything is fine, there are doctors standing by and they tell me that everything is going perfectly normally... sir? Mr. President? Are you there? Sir?"

"You can tell him when he arrives, Ramierez." Ashino answered, staring wide eyed at the door that Sai had just sprinted out of. For a non-soldier, Sai sure could move given the proper stimulus. Ashino knew all about the biological processes of birth... but the emotional side still confused him greatly, as usual. He stood up and began to head out the door after Sai. Sai had been kind enough to invite him to the birthing, if Ashino wasn't too busy and he'd accepted, because of the opportunity for emotional observations it presented. Still, something caused him to pause in the doorway and look back at Cyprus Finch, who was collecting the various documents strewn over the desktop and organizing them into neat piles, which he then locked securely into the desk drawers. Ashino made no sounds nor gave any other indication that he was still in the room, but he wasn't totally surprised when Cyprus cleared his throat inquisitively.

"Something on your mind?" Cyprus asked, not deigning to look over at Ashino. "Something to do with Eric Kellson, I assume? You reacted to the name."

"I shouldn't be surprised that you noticed, though I thought I had better control of myself than that." Ashino replied. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should broach the subject with Cyprus, whom he understood even less than he understood Sai, despite the relatively kindred nature of their personalities. "It's... just that I've heard the name before."

"He is one of your mobile suit pilots..."

"No, not like that." Ashino sighed and decided to risk it. "Look, I'm not the best person at explaining how I feel or other emotional stuff like that, and I'm not sure you're the best person to talk to about it either, but you're currently on hand, and you might have information I'd like to know locked up in that codified brain of yours."

"I think you'll discover I'm an avid listener, and I might be able to offer you some insight as to how you are feeling, or should be feeling, about whatever it is you're going to ask me." Now that he was alone in the room with Ashino, Cyprus allowed himself to grimace ever so slightly and he leaned against the desk for support to take the weight off his injured leg. "Reticence does not equate to inexperience, after all."

"There's a girl..." Ashino began. Cyprus cocked an eyebrow and Ashino found himself feeling defensive, though why he wasn't sure. "Her name is Jean. I bumped into her in Panama just before Ysak Joule attempted to assassinate Asmodeus there and nearly paid for his folly with his life. It was just a chance encounter between two people, but I ended up saving her life and forming a bond with her. I've since lost contact with her, due to the destruction of the Bane and my involuntary swim across half the Pacific Ocean. I don't even know if she made it out of Panama alive, and I've been too busy recently to make a concentrated effort at finding her. To be honest, I've no idea how to look for her, no idea where to start from... until you mentioned..."

"Captain Eric Kellson, age 22. Has a father, James Lloyd Kellson and a mother Madeline Fae Kellson, ages 47 and 46 respectively. Also has one younger sister..." Cyprus let his gaze meet Ashino's. "... Jean Rebecca Kellson, age 17. Their family home is in upstate New York, about two hours drive or thirty minutes helicopter flight from here. Captain Kellson is currently home on convalescant leave, due to injuries suffered during the recent battles at Galileo LFB. Captain Kellson has been detached from the remnants of the 72nd AC, and will be TAD'd (Temporary Assigned Duty) to the Templar training facility you mentioned in your report to Sai, pending his recovery and return to duty in two weeks time. I have nominated him to receive not only a Silver Star, which will be his second after the one he received from the fight in Panama you mentioned, but also The Allied Presidential Medal of Honor for his exemplary actions during the battles on the Moon. I've also got a list of seven other soldiers to receive that award, but he is the only one who will not be receiving it posthumously."

"Haven't only like three of those ever been awarded, in both of the wars to date?" Ashino asked, still stumbling over the fact that Cyprus had given him all the information he'd need to find Jean again.

"Six, but only three publicly. A deplorable practice that illustrates the detachment of the political chain of command from the realities of the war. A practice I will be changing. Many soldiers do not serve for recognition or medals or rewards... they serve because they feel it is their duty and privilege to protect their nation and loved ones. But that does not mean that recognition should be denied them, or their sacrifices made light of. No soldier in my military will ever be passed over for recognition due to them while I have anything at all to say about it. I remember the first time I received the APMH... it was the proudest moment of my life to date, even if I can never relate to anyone why I received it. At least, not for another fifty years, when it becomes grandfathered into unclassified material."

"Wait... first time... I thought you could only get it onc..."

"Here is her address, Markov. If you hurry, you should be able to arrive at her home just after she gets home from school, but before she goes out on the town with her brother and friends, a statistical likelihood of more than sixty seven percent." Cyprus interrupted him, taking a small sticky pad and writing on it in his neat, precise lettering. "There is nothing wrong with a soldier pursuing romantic efforts during a war... battle causes great fluctuations in people's emotions and it is entirely natural that you would seek out pleasant company in order to regain your equilibrium. Still, I would advise you not to become to heavily involved, for both your sakes. This war is far from over, and you will be doing a lot of fighting on the front lines now that the Independence is operational. Death could come for you at any time. I've never met her, but if you value this Jean, I would advise you not to let her suffer from the heartbreak of attending your funeral."

"I think you're misconstruing the depth of our relationship..." Ashino replied. Cyprus smiled, actually smiled.

"Then I think you're fooling yourself, my friend. People like you and I don't daydream about ordinary girls with whom we have little emotional involvement."

"So you are speaking from experience then... imagine that..." Ashino muttured, genuinely surprised.

"I'm a discliplined man. But I'm no eunuch." Cyprus passed the note, which also contained several phone numbers, off to Ashino as he limped past. "Best of luck. I'll give the young master your best wishes for the health of his children, and your regrets that you won't be by for at least a day or two. Even commanders need a little R and R now and then, and I'm sure he'll be pleased you found a girlfriend." before Ashino could protest that Cyprus was reading far too much into his relationship with Jean, the Lieutenant was out the door and away, having successfuly got the last word in.

"A surprisingly complex man... I was fortunate." Ashino whispered to the empty room. "First time... that selfless bastard, no wonder everyone whispers when they talk about him..."

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"This thing is incredible. Whoever designed this OS was an absolute genius. I'd like to think that when it comes to programming mobile suit OS's, that I'm pretty near the top of the food chain... but whoever did this, I... I feel like a child standing next to George Glenn." Kira shook his head for the upteenth time in amazement and admiration. "It actually allows for direct linkages between the nervous system of the pilot and the operating controls of the mobile suit. That's why there's no joysticks, chair or displays... the entire mobile suit is controlled just like it was the pilot's own body. I can't even imagine how expensive this must have been to develop... it's decades ahead of even the stuff Morganroete is developing."

"Well I suppose that explains the wires anyway... there has to be some physical interface between the pilot and the computers." Athrun replied, looking at his own computer terminal, right next to Kira's. He and Kira were working on analyzing the technical aspects of the captured Gundam, while Chief Murdoch and his mechanics went about the task of studying its mechanical properties. "It's ground breaking, you're right. With this control system, there's almost no limit to how precise your control over the actions of the mobile suit can be... almost anything you can do with your own body you can do with the mobile suit. Hell, with the extra programming in there, you can actually do more while interfaced with the suit than you can just on your own... from the looks of it, all the vernier and maneuvering thruster controls are encoded in such a way as to allow the pilot to use them as naturally as walking or jumping. How precisely is beyond me."

"You guys think that crap is somethin', you got to come look at THIS!" Murdoch shouted up to them. They floated down shortly thereafter, to witness a spluttering Murdoch pointing at another terminal screen with a disbelieving finger. "I didn't want to believe it, but you two can tell me I'm not crazy, right? Please tell me that you're both seeing the same thing I am here."

Kira only had to look at the readings for a moment before he realied what Murdoch was saying, and Athrun realized it at almost the same time. "This is a fusion reactor?" Kira breathed, jaw agape. "But... but... fusion hasn't even come out of the labratory stage yet! We just barely started using relatively minituarized nuclear reactors recently, with the Freedom and Justice. Is ZAFT really that much farther ahead than Orb and the Alliance?"

Athrun shook his head. "The PLANTS power comes mainly from solar collectors, along with some fission reactors. I'd heard my father talking about plans for an experimental fusion research group, but theres no way they could have come up with something like this already, and certainly not without someone knowing about it. Fusion is a potentially unlimited energy source... we'd all know if the PLANTS had perfected a working version."

"Well, I dunno if it's a real fusion reactor... thing seems to operate in a damned weird way. Starts up, throws out an asston of power, then shuts down and repeats the process a few hundred times to a few thousand times a minute, depending on how much power you want out of it. Which, even at minimal levels, is still enough to run a good sized city for a night." Murdoch scratched his head. "Guess that explains why its got such a complex and expensive looking cooling system... things gotta run hotter than a volcano."

"You think all that shit is scary, you probably don't even want to know about the gel." Dearka popped his head out of the ZAFT Gundam's cockpit, which he and Ysak had taken over and were slowly taking apart in an attempt to learn as much as possible about the way the strange mobile suit was put together.

"Tell us anyway, I think I got somethin' to top it after you're done." Murdoch called back. Dearka shrugged and guided a small globe of gel out of the cockpit and gently pushed it down at them so they could get a closer look at it.

"Whatever's in this, it's breathable. Not easily, but theres more oxygen in that gel than there is in the air around us. What Ysak and I think... what only makes sense, really, given the potential maneuverability the control system you guys are talking about allows, is that the cockpit is entirely filled with this gel when the pilot is operating the Gundam. Entirely...as in the pilot is breathing it instead of air. It's not an entirely unknown concept... some deep sea divers use a similar system to help them deal with the extreme pressures involved in sub-trench mining operations. With all the normally air filled spaces inside the human body flled instead with incompressible gel, it becomes much, much more difficult for a person to be harmed by pressureor other outside stresses on the entire body. Now, if the entire cockpit is thus essentially "filled" with an incompressible substance... well, I can't say for sure but I'd imagine you wouldn't be feeling much stress from high G maneuvers."

"I bet a Coordinator with the right motivation could probably pull a continuous twenty G of acceleration while encased in the gel without much ill effect." Ysak added his own two cents. "Theres a lot of odd machinery around the cockpit region that also extends to most other parts of the machine, the purpose of which still eludes me. It looks for all the world like a form of superconductor, but what exactly it does is beyond me."

"Yeah, thaats pretty cool and all. But I still think mine's weirder." Murdoch said. He pointed dramatically to the Pulsar's damaged shoulder. "Look at that! Look at the damage!"

"You're pointing at the wrong shoulder, Chief... theres no damage there." Kir pointed out gently.

"Think so!? Look again, at the other shoulder, smart guy." Chief Murdoch shot back. Kira did as instructed, and felt his eyes widening. Athrun gasped and pushed off to float up to the Gundam's shoulder level. Ysak was already up there by the time Athrun got there.

"I don't get it. I know there was a burn scar here just a few hours ago..." Ysak mumbled, looking irritated. He studied the seamless grey-white armor plate of the shoulder guards, both of them identical in their pristine appearance.

"For that matter... weren't there a whole bunch of cracks along the torso region as well?" Athrun mused, cupping his chin in his hand as he stared at the entirely undamaged armor.

"Chief... have you been..." Kira started to say. Murdoch gave him the evil eye for a moment.

"Does it look like I've had gangs of men running around, replacing sheets of armor? I think even you bunch might have noticed that." Murdoch replied flatly. 'No, I ain't even touched this creepy scrapheap, but somehow, someway, its gone and fixed itself. This thing ain't natural."

"Did Lacus have any luck in finding out who the pilot was?" Ysak asked Kira.

"How should I know, I haven't talked to her since she... oh... yeah." Kira trailed off when Ysak smirked at him in a superior fashion and repeatedly tapped the side of his head. "Hold on, I'll see what I can find out."

"I'm reaching the creepiness limit down here." Murdoch complained, sotto voce. "We got a fusion powered, self repairing Gundam with an totally new OS but a dead pilot, and now the kid and the pink princess are holding telepathic meetings. What the hell happened to me? Why am I just sitting here accepting this? I should be banging my head on a wall in some institution somewhere, cause that's the only explanation for how I'm just accepting this. I must be going loopy."

"I see. I see. Yes, I'll tell them. Thank you Lacus. Love you too. Talk to you... well, you know what I meant." Kira muttered. Dearka sidled over to Athrun, no mean feat in the microgravity present in the hangar bay. He jerked a tumb at Ysak and Kira.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with the idea of going out in public with them. Who knows when one of the girls is gonna give them a beepcall or whatever it is... we've got enough problems on our hands, without having to fend off well meaning but clueless psychologists, wanting to commit those two for talking to nonexistant people. Besides that, it just plain creeps me out. I could never stand to have Mir privy to all my thoughts, could you?"

"Well, to be honest I never really thought what it would be like having Miriallia privy to all my thoughts, but now that you mention it I'm sure it would be an ordeal." Athrun replied with a tight grin for the narrow look Dearka shot him. "And it probably wouldn't be all that fun for the rest of us, you know? Given that we'd be scraping your teeth out of the wall every few days when you thought a... how should I put this... "unconventional"... thought about her."

"Oh, so I'm the only guy who has dirty thoughts about his girlfriend, am I? Its on, Zala. Its on." Dearka replied vindictively.

"This is supposed to be a serious investigat..." Athrun started to protest, noting the wicked glint in Dearka's eye.

"That can wait. We can sum it all up as "we don't know what this Gundam can do, and we won't till we actually boot it back up, which we can't do until Captain Ramius says we can", I'm sure you'll agree. And I'm not letting you off the hook that easily, Zala." Dearka said firmly. "Ysak, Kira, come here a moment. I need you to help me prove a point to Mr. High and Mighty Zala here."

"I'm always happy to help you take Athrun down a peg or two, but I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this..." Ysak said a few seconds later, floating next to them.

"You're so intuitive its frightening sometimes." Dearka mocked. "Just too bad you never use it in combat or you'd be unbeatable."

"You didn't call me down here to poke fun at me, or at least I hope you didn't, for your sake."

"I'm so unmanned with fear I'm not even trembling anymore. But that's beside the point. I have a question I need to ask you both and I need you both to be completely honest with me. In return, I'll go out on a limb and be completely honest with you, for any question you ask me. Swear on my pride as a man."

"That's about as serious an oath as he can swear, stupid macho-bastard that he is." Ysak translated. "I'll bite. Ask, but you'd better be prepared cause I'm not gonna pull any punches with my question."

"I don't see why not. Might make for a good change of pace, my minds just running in circles with regard to this thing." Kira nodded at the Gundam. Dearka looked at Athrun.

"You're not going to let this drop, are you? Well fine, but I think you've gone and bet on a busted hand this time." Athrun said confidently.

"Oh no, victory is mine now. All right gentlemen, steel yourselves and mind that you promised to be totally honest." Dearka paused for a theatrical moment. "See, I was talking with Athrun about how inconvenient it would be to have your girlfriend always in your head, like you two guys have. Makes it real hard to have... creative... thoughts about them, woudn't it? Thats not the question though. Question is two parts and here it is: Do you think dirty thoughts about your girlfriends and WHAT is the dirtiest thing you've done? Now, now, don't give me looks like that... we're all men here and we're all friends... I really don't think you're going to be able to shock me... and if you can, then kudos."

"What brought this on again now?" Ysak gritted out, swallowing hard.

"Don't stall for time, though I don't care who answers first. Hell, I'll even be generous and give you guys a freebie by answering my own question. Answer to the first part is naturally a yes, and I'm sure that'll be the same for all of us, being that we are guys with working sex organs and hormones, and the average guy thinks about sex roughly at least once every twelve seconds when not forced into a life or death situation, and even then theres prolly the odd thought or two. As for part two... well, I wouldn't want to brag or anything but I've got the keys to not just the hood, but the trunk too, you know what I'm saying?"

"You can stop right there." Ysak cut him off, looking slightly queasy. "And never ever speak such words in my presence again. I'm going to have to clean my mind out with a power washer to get those images out."

"That's funny, I didn't get any images at all. Thinking about Miriallia a bit recently, Ysak?" Athrun couldn't resist jabbing at his age old rival.

"Okay, Zala, you wanna start shit, lets start some shit." Ysak retorted with an unfriendly look. "Hell yes I do, part one and part two... God help me if Katie finds out I said this... but we've tried a little bit of the whole master-servant thing, costumes and whatnot."

"Damn Ysak, that is... wait, which one's the master?" Dearka blurted.

"That is absolutely beyond the scope of the question."

"Well that answers that anyways. I always knew Katie was the one wearing the pants in your relationship." Athrun stabbed again.

"Hey, at least I don't get slapped by my girl for being a over-righteous dick on my way into space." Ysak shot back.

"Wait... what?" Kira asked, frowning.

"My answer is yes, obviously." Athrun hurried to change the topic, or at least advance the conversation, not wanting to get into another argument about Cagalli with Kira. "As for part two... well, Cagalli does have something of a voyeuristic streak. I don't think any of you truly want to know the number of places or times when we've had surprisingly satisfying sex."

"I think you're wrong. Come on Zala, you were man enough to poke fun at me... you can answer that question fully." Ysak goaded.

"You brought this on yourself, Ysak, remember that. I could name a half a dozen cars, both front seat and back... even once in a limo, while Kisaka was driving us to a Parliament meeting. Once during a bathroom break at a Parliament meeting. About twenty percent of the time while I was doing routine maintenance on the Righteous. Once in the hallway outside Ysak's room, four nights before we left for space. Once in Ysak's room, though not on the bed, while Ysak and Katie were out shopping... so thats why Katie has so many school uniforms, I was wondering... once inside the Grand Buster, that was a hoot. Hmm, let me think..."

"No, thats good. Don't be surprised if you wake up outside an airlock without a space suit sometime in the next few days." Dearka cut him off with a very unhappy look at the Grand Buster. "Defiling another man's machine like that... disgraceful..."

"It wasn't the first time someone had sex in there, I can tell you that, though why you would keep a dil..." Dearka slammed his hand over Athrun's mouth.

"Is beyond your capacity to understand, and will stay that way. Moving on to Kira, you bastard."

"Uh... well... I... yeah, I do think dirty thoughts about Lacus. Though really, I think dirty is not the right way to describe them. After all... men and women... thats just what we do when we love people, right?" Kira said slowly. The other three just eyed him steadily. "Fine then. Its nothing to be embarassed about. Lacus has a very talented mouth and is not afraid to use it. So there." Kira met their gazes evenly. He then cracked a wide grin. "And she wants me to tell you all that your souls now belong to her, unless you want Miriallia, Katie and Cagalli finding out about your loose tongues."

"Cagalli wouldn't really mind... per se... thrill of discovery..." Dearka tackled Athrun into the wall.

"I'm gonna shut you up before you talk us all into an early grave, you pyschotic bastard."

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	87. The Isolation, Prelude

"So what was the point of it all, anyway? What have I managed to accomplish on my path? Have I accomplished anything, or have I stayed mired in the useless maelstrom of fighting in the moment to satisfy my own base desires?" Frost asked the mountain wind unhappily. It had been a week and a half since his aborted attempt to destroy the PLANTS with the Judgement, and the destruction of the same via collision with the Moon. He'd spent a few days hanging around the Moon, picking off stragglers of the lunar battles from both sides... but killing salvage and rescue crews rapidly grew boring, and the Fury lacked the destructive capabilities to properally assault either the LFB's or the civilian cities. He'd contemplated renewing the attack upon the PLANTS, but again the Fury was hardly the optimal suit for that... destroying even a single colony with his beam sabers alone would take days if not weeks, and there were dozens of the hourglasses. In the end he'd just ended up taking the shuttle he'd loaded up with munitions and supplies and heading back down to Earth, since space was no longer a progressive place for him to be.

"I suppose I could have stayed and made another go at Pink and friends, but I'm starting to get bored with our little tete a tete's. Who would have guessed that I would grow bored with the seeking of vengeance... certainly not me. But you knew, didn't you, Doc?" Frost spat, kicking a piece of wreckage off the side of the mountain and listening to it as it pinged and clattered its way down the steep slope. "I suppose you're probably laughing your skull off somewhere in the hellfires right now, aren't you, father? You knew that once I discovered the destiny you had in mind for me, I would become so intruiged that I would place all other concerns secondary to it... even those which are most pleasing to my heart. That's the way you designed me... to always have an eye on the goal at the end of the rope, and to have the ability to do whatever is necessary to get there. In order to kill everyone, I have to let the people I hate the most live happily for a while longer. It's enough to make me sick, you bastard!" Frost punched a hole in a nearby piece of sheet metal siding, thrown out of the habitent mountain during its destruction by the Archangel.

The echoing gong reverberating through the mountain valleys brought him back to the here and now, and he turned back to the original task that had brought him back to the ruins of JIHAD in the first place. Namely, searching for anything at his old "home" that could be of use to him in the future. His hope was to find another mobile suit, or at least the designs for one, something a little more suited to mass destruction, because without that capability he'd have to spend far too much time to accomplish his goals. And perhaps inevitably, time was not one of the resources he had unlimited reserves of. There was no set lifetime for a BCPU, theoretically they could live just as long as any other human, if not longer. But Frost had strong doubts about his own longevity... too much had been changed around with his body. Without the Doc and the specialist resources formerly present at JIHAD, he doubted he'd live more than ten more years at the outside. That meant he had only a decade to wipe out the entire human race... and with just the Fury that would be impossible. He needed more resources, and so he'd come to JIHAD to see what there was to see.

Which wasn't much. Blue Cosmos and the Alliance had come to JIHAD shortly after it had been destroyed, which was when the Judgement was first discovered and recovered. Most of the rest of the intact military hardware and technical items had been removed then as well. In the time since then, scavengers, looters, native opportunists and other human parasites had come and picked over the remains like vultures at a corpse. That hadn't left much more than rusted scrap and other debris either too damaged or too large to be man portable, along with a smattering of the truly worthless, like broken glass and empty food tins. At least, on the outsides of the mountains. Frost had noted that all the access doors to the habitent/facility mountain had been sealed, not only with chains but also with explosives that had dropped tons of rubble over all the main entrance points. This had given him the idea that there might still be items of some worth inside, else why go to the trouble to seal it? It had been on closer investigation of some of these sealed portals that he made a discovery that made him smile a very predatory smile.

"Well, well... if that just doesn't beat all..." Frost stared down at a set of footprints leading under a section of what looked like loose rubble. The footprints were fresh, made within the last day or two, and upon touch the "loose rubble" was revealed to be a cleverly concealed disguise over a passageway that lead into the mountain's upper levels. "So there were survivors after all. Must have been Ashino's doing... I thought I saw some of them moving into the lower levels just before Cray and Ashino escorted me away. Never would have thought I'd be thanking little Ashino for his foresight. I wonder how things have turned out down in the depths..." Frost giggled and walked confidently into the gloom, his eyes adjusting within seconds to the pitch darkness. It was deathly still inside the ruins of the upper levels, with the occasional "plip plop" of water dripping from a broken pipe or the rustle of rubble settling mixed in with the creak of cooked stone still unstressing even now. it didn't take Frost more than a few minutes of searching to discern that the upper levels were picked clean, little more than dusty rooms filled with useless scraps of cardboard and plastic. There weren't even any bodies... a fact that broadened his smile.

"No corpses... but plenty of nice trails in the dust." Frost murmured, tracing a finger along one such trail, where the dust was almost a millimeter less thick along an extended route. There was also a faint organic sludge mixed in with the dust particles... dried blood flakes if he was any judge. "Never really been partial to man-burgers, but if there was nothing else..." Frost started following the trail, noting that it quickly converged with several more, and followed the combined trail down several flights of stairs into the middle levels of the mountain facility. Even as he descended, he was well aware of the fact that he was being stalked by several entities. They knew their territory well, but they were half maddened by hunger and less than fully sane to start with in most cases, and that made them careless. Well, that and an utter lack of fear for him that he found very disrespectful. Sad to think that such a relatively short absence could cloud their memory so much.

The middle levels showed signs of habitation... a bundle of rags in a corner that was probably a bed, footprints in the dust with no drag trails obscuring them, etchings of nonsense symbols on a wall, even a few bits of human waste shoved in a small hole and covered with a makeshift lid. Frost paused and sniffed the air... it was redolent with the scent of decay and with the smell of stale air. Without the air circulators, the lower levels would be quickly growing toxic with carbon dioxide. Nothing his lungs, or the lungs of most BCPU's couldn't handle, but a fact that sharply reduced the chance of there being any Natural survivors. Not that he was particularly looking for or expecting there to be Natural survivors, since in this sort of survival of the fittest environment the scientists and technicians would have been little more than a food source for the BCPU's, despite their supposedly superior reasoning abilities. A PHD in Biochemistry didn't do much to tell you how to survive in an underground complex filled with insane, ravenous super-human monsters.

On his way down to sub-level 3, he encountered his first surprise, something he hadn't been expecting since he first saw the footprints and the disguised entrance. A body, a fresh body, the blood barely dried. A BCPU 2 by the look of the kid, who couldn't have been much more than ten years old. Though it was a bit hard to tell, considering almost the entire head was blown off and smeared along several square feet of the wall and ceiling, with two more large holes in the torso region. No simple pistol or rifle fire made holes like that, this was something heavier, something that would put a man down with a single shot almost no matter where they were hit. But there was also no evidence of copious amounts of brass, like a heavy autoweapon would leave everywhere it went. Maybe whoever it was was just that meticulous, but Frost doubted it. Instead, a strange giddiness welled up inside him and he dared to hope a little. He found two more bodies during his descent to sub-level 4, similarly shot up like the first. The residents had tested this other newcomer thoroughly, but now Frost was more certain than ever that the other intruder had come out victorious.

The attack came on sub-level five, as he was poking about in one of the laboratories... one that had focused on the unique bone-structure of the BCPU projects, judging by the number of skeletal images and displays along the walls,not to mention the hundreds of prototype bones scattered around on the floor, where they had been tossed and discarded from their broken display cases. It was a coordinated effort, the work of preadtors that had had time enough to work out a pecking order and a few basic strategies for survival, namely pack hunting, something which came naturally enough to the BCPU's, given their military training. Two BCPU 2's and a BCPU 3 charged through the doorway of the lab, brandishing improvised weapons and howling like banshees, while a second BCPU 3, an impressive specimen with bulging muscles that brought to mind an image of a hairless gorilla, dropped down into the room from a hole in the ceiling, behind Frost. He could hear even more of them moving outside the room... there had to be at least ten or fifteen more prowling around in the deeper corridors, waiting to discern the viability of attacking the newcomer, or even ambushing the first hunting pack if their numbers were reduced enough. Turnabout was more than fair play in the ruins, it was a key to survival.

The first attacker to reach him was a female, about twelve years old, swinging a short wooden hafted shovel with determination and vigor, if not exceptional skill. Frost blocked the shovel's swing with one forearm, splintering the cheap wooden haft and knocking the ruined weapon from her numb hands in the same motion. His other hand came around and crushed the front of her skull in like it was made of plaster. The grisly death of a fellow pack member did nothing to slow the other three, they continued their attack without even looking at her body. Frost bared his teeth in admiration and went on the offensive. The second BCPU 2 was armed with a pair of iron pipes, torn out of some bathroom wall somewhere, their jagged ends serving as effective piercers as well as a bludgeoning tool. The BCPU, a male of similar age to the female, growled a curse-shriek and leapt at Frost, only to be kicked in the gut hard enough to rupture his liver, spleen, kidneys and large intestine, despite the armor. The pain was too much for the lesser BCPU, who dropped to the ground gagging and writhing.

Frost appropriated the twin lengths of pipe and promptly put them to good use, spearing them through the chest of the lanky BCPU 3 charging him from the front. That didn't stop the foe, but it did slow him down enough for Frost's spearing elbow to crush his windpipe. Even that didn't completely stop the BCPU 3, who continued to claw feebly at Frost until he finished him off by stamping his foot entirely through the weaklings chest. This satisfying exchange of blows gave the pack leader more than enough time to close the distance between it and the foolish prey that had exhausted itself on the lesser packmates, for whom there would be many eager replacements from the other, less important hunt-teams. The BCPU 3 known as Juggernaut by his peers pounced upon the short prey-animal and bore it to the ground under his weight and momentum, his iron strong arms closing tightly around the surprisngly hard body of the other, holding the petrified thing still as Jug snapped his head down and chomped down with his teeth on its shoulder, tasting the sweet blood flow... Jug snarled and spat coarsely, mouth stinging and nose wrinkling with nausea. The blood of this prey was rank and bitter, just like the blood of... the packmates...

"Am I not to your liking, fool? Don't taste good? Must be something in our blood, eh, little brother?" Frost mocked, the bite marks on his shoulder already scabbing over. "We may be monsters, but we're not vampires or cannibals... theres no benefit to making us like that. Quite the opposite I'd imagine."

"You speak... like you... know me?" Jug grated out, his throat sore from disuse and privation. "You taste like one of the Ruined, and you fight like one too... but I don't recognize your scent." Jug kept up the pressure on the other, who even if he was not prey was still smaller and of lesser status than Jug. He could not allow his dominance to be questioned, or else he would have to go to the Bad Place, where the devil-prey had recently taken up residence.

"The Ruined huh? Apt enough, I suppose." Frost replied. "I am the favored son of Doc. My name is Frost."

"Favored son of the creator? Har... you talk big for a stranger with no pack." Jug retorted, tightening his grip, though to no discernable effect on Frost. "You came from the outside world, didn't you? But you weren't here when the fire and noise came, when the mountain fell on top of us and buried us. No... you're no son of the creator. You're just another devil-prey, like the other. The old-one with the eyes of ice. However, you don't have any firearms, do you? You were foolish, Frost. You didn't make it to the Bad Place, like the old-one. You're going to die out here in the warrens, and I will wear your bones as trophies."

"Admirable sentiment, but misplaced. I'm not your... well, that would be lying. I am your enemy. But I am less your enemy than those whos enemy we both are. The very enemy we were all designed to fight." Frost replied. "Who is this other so called "devil-prey"?" Frost asked. He didn't have to ask what the Bad Place was... every BCPU knew there was only one place that would ever be called that. The waste pit, where BCPU's were "dis-enrolled" from the program after unsatisfactory performance. Just thinking about it even made Forst the tiniest bit uneasy... almost his entire race was buried in there, their mouldering remains forever entombed below the roots of the mountain... it was chilling, in a way. Little wonder Jug spoke of it with near superstitious awe and dread.

"The other devil-prey is the old-one. The one with eyes like ice that can freeze even a starving hunter into immobility. The one with the gun, the pistol that kills quickly, spitting death along a blue laser light. The old captain, the creator's enemy. Devil named, devil born, devil blessed... Asmodeus." Jug hissed in reply. "He came here recently. Maybe two days as time should pass, its hard to tell in the warrens. He tottered like one who wants to die, and seemed as listless as one whom has bled out. But when the hunters came to collect his flesh for our bellies, he froze them, froze them like mice with his eyes and set them to trembling and mewling in fear. I caught only a glimpse myself and I was rooted to the ground, incapable of motion. It is no shame to admit this... all were affected so. Eyes like that... why... what loss... what hatred... incomprehensible. We had to kill him. But the gun, that gun. It blew the hunters apart like rag dolls, not at all like the guns of the scientists and guard-maggots. By the time we recovered our wits, he'd entered the Bad Place. And he has not come out. We will kill him when he does."

"You'll do no such thing. Not to such a beautiful person as Asmodeus sounds to have become. I think he might actually understand now... and people who really, truly understand are far too precious to let die. At least, for a while. There are so few after all. So few who can answer the question. The most important question of all... How?" Frost felt the excitment start to rise within him.

"How?" Jug asked. "How what?"

"How will you end your life? We're all dead. We've been dead since we were born. Everything that lives dies, without death there can be no life, and vice versa. People are far too worried about when they will die. They fight to cling to life for even a few precious moments more, but they are deceiving themselves. When isn't important. How is important. What will you be doing when you die? How will it mke a difference? How will your death make its mark?" Frost explained. "Well, don't bother answering that, I can tell you, as far as you are concerned. The mark your death will make... will be a pleasant red stain on that wall over there..." Frost shrugged his arms and broke Jug's grip on his body. Moving far faster than the musclebound BCPU 3 could discern, Frost stepped out of the grapple and pivoted, leg snapping out in a side kick that shattered Jugs's knees like they were made of glass. Frost caught the body as it dropped forward, squawking in agony. It was a simple twist and hurl from there... the sack of ruptured organs and splintered bones slowly slid down the solid steel wall, blood rapidly drying to a crust that covered up the cracks that had defaced the surface around the impact point.

"I am the favored son. Anyone who wishes to dispute that, step forward now!" Frost bellowed out into the pitch black hallways. There was a brief sussuration of movement, but no body slipped into view. "Feh... cowards. But I suppose you know your places. I'm a sixer. Yeah, that guy. And I am now the leader. The Doc gave me a purpose, but hes dead now, so I'm gonna have to step into his shoes and give you sorry lot a purpose. But don't delude yourselves into thinking I care about you or that I'm doing this for you. I'm going to get you killed. Bloodily, terribly, agonizngly... you're all going to die, either by my hand, or by my command. Your lives are mine. And if you don't like it... theres plenty more wall to color." Frost shouted. There was no response. "You may have been happy, pretending to be a bunch of degenerate animals, preying on each other down in these tunnels, but that time is at an end. You're still degenerate animals, that hasn't changed. But I won't let you waste your talents down in these dim halls. Not when I can make use of you."

Frost walked confidently out into the halls, watching BCPU's skitter out of his way in the corners of his vision. Many still clutched improvised tools or weapons in their hands, but none dared approach him, or made any threatening moves as he made his way surely to the Bad Place. Their eyes followed him like he was casting off light, and some even shielded their gaze rather than look at him. The terrible favored son, the sixer. All had heard of him, none living had met him. But they could not doubt the evidence of their eyes... Jug's pack, the strongest hunters in the warrens, were nothing but torn meat at the hands of this Frost. None dared his displeasure. They were afraid to die. They clung to each precious beat of life as if it might be their last. They all asked when, and had no concept of how. Thus they would be tools, rather than tool users.

Asmodeus was not hard to find. He was sitting with his feet dangling over the abyss, on the rough stone floor of the cave, just off to the side of the twisted wreckage of the steel mesh walkway that had formerly bridged the pit, before the mountain and partially collapsed into the cavity. The stench coming up from below was enough to send a human gagging to his knees... not only the rotting odors of hundreds of corpses and tons of bio-medical waste, but toxic gases expelled from the deep places under the Earth... all rose as one miasma into the disposal cave, and from there slowly drifted into the rest of the complex. But Asmodeus didn't seem unduly bothered by it, even without his mask. No doubt he had become acclimatised after spending more than a day in the cave, though the toxic gasses couldn't have been doing his lungs much good. But that was Asmodeus's problem, not Frost's, and was actually a good sign, a sign that Asmodeus was probably much more concerned about How rather than When.

"I don't suppose you can answer my question now, can you, Asmodeus?" Frost asked without preamble, stopping within easy rushing distance of the Hellhound. One swift push and Asmodeus would have a one way trip to the upper levels of Hell, or however far down the abyss went anyway.

"I figured you'd show up sooner or later, after I heard about what happened on the Moon." Asmodeus said, without looking back, not that his merely human eyes would have been able to see anything in the pitch darkness anyway. His mask lay on the cave floor beside him, and his pistol was in his lap, loaded and ready. "There were really only a few places you would go to plan your next move, now that the Judgement has been removed from the picture. We never designed that machine for you to use, you know. And seeing to what use you put it, I'm reminded again of why. Talk about a waste of a good weapon..."

"I didn't come here to listen to you mull over my shortcomings." Frost interrupted. "Do you have an answer for the question I asked you in Panama or not?"

"You mean How? I've put some thought into it, Frost. And I think there is only one correct answer."

"And that is?"

"With all my enemies crushed and defeated before me, with the entire world burning at my back and with no regrets for either. I will accomplish this goal and then I will end myself, because... because I hate everyone. I have nothing, so I will take everything. I will take, and take and take, no matter who fights me, who allies against me, or what force is levied against me. And I will keep taking, until theres only one thing left to take, which will be my own life. Then I'll take that too, and I will be happy. That is How I will die." Asmodeus snarled.

"I think..." Frost paused. "... that you and I have a lot in common, Asmodeus. I agree with your answer." Frost met Asmodeus's gaze as the man craned his neck around, shivering with delight as he saw the murderous, homicidal gleam in the ice blue eyes of the Hellhound. "And I think we can both be of great help to each other in accomplishing our mutual Hows."

"Don't be condescending to me, you little freak. I may have snapped, I might even understand how you feel a little bit now... but I am not your friend and I've yet to decide if I'm going to be your ally or enemy." Asmodeus retorted coldly. "I know how fast you are, but you still don't know how fast I am. I think I can put a bullet in your head before you can push me over the side."

"While it would be fun and interesting to put that to the test, its not something we can afford to indulge in right now." Frost answered. "It's us two against everyone else, including each other naturally. Just because I hate everyone and you feel similarly, doesn't exclude you, my soul-kindred. There will come a day when we will put our speeds to the test... but I think that day should be after the rest of the world has met its fate."

"You're proposing that we work together, just like the old times?" Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, confident that Frost would be able to see his skepticism.

"No. I'm proposing that we work together, as people with the same goal. But not like old times. I am not your subordinate, and you are not afraid of me. Neither of us has any power over the other. That is good. So what do you say, Asmodeus? Or perhaps I should call you Mr. Gle... but that wouldn't be your name anymore, would it?"

"Not since long before I joined Blue Cosmos. I am Asmodeus Sark. Who I was before... who I was related to before... that is inconsequential, though I am curious as to how you figured that out, when not even Cervantes knew." Asmodeus replied.

"Cervantes was, in the end, just a Natural. The Doc was a Coordinator. They are awfully good at figuring out things, especially things having to do with genetics, wouldn't you agree? I never would have thought that the assassin was a member of his own f..."

"Neither did he, which was why it worked. He was always far to trusting, even of his extended family. The look on his face... I'll never forget it." Asmodeus found himself smiling at the memory. "I was so young then... and angry, and stupid. But without that one act, none of this would ever have happened."

"And I can't tell you have grateful I am that you pulled that trigger. So... partners then?" Frost asked again.

"Partners... no." Asmodeus replied. "Kindred spirits, certainly. Demon, I greet you amiably. I am the hound of Hell. May my foes burn in the fires of my passing."

"I suppose I can go for that, too. I greet you as well, devil. May my own enemies cry their own lifes blood out into the wake of my fury." Frost held out his hand, and without hesitation, Asmodeus shook it, though the gesture was quite empty of any real meaning. Nothing would change the fact that the two men were mortal foes, desiring only the death of the other... just not before others. A true match made in Hell.

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"It's a call from WHO!?" the Commander of the Carpentaria Garrison forces blurted, storming into the operation center buried under the middle of ZAFT's last major base on Earth, still under reconstruction from the terrible battle that had been fought there several months prior. It had been nearly three months since the disastrous attempt to invade the moon had been rebuffed. Three months of uneasy calm while both sides frantically sought to come up with a new strategy. But, perhaps predictably, it had been the Alliance that managed to find its feet first, both because of its superior industrial base and because Sai had already planned extensively past a victory or draw at the Moon, while ZAFT had been banking almost everything on their own victory there, which they failed to accomplish. The damage suffered at ZMHQ due to the efforts by the Judgement and the rogue Frost certainly hadn't helped matters either. And finally, the loss of the top secret new ZAFT Gundam, an asset which had cost billions of dollars and millions of man hours, was nearly the killing blow, in terms of morale anyway. Everyone in ZAFT knew that the situation was approaching the worst case scenario, where their superior technology and skill would no longer be able to compensate for the numbers arrayed against them.

"It's coming from the west, sir. The source is about ten miles outside our outermost sea based defense perimeter." the duty communications officer reported, a nervous quaver evident in her voice.

"How the hell did they get so close? That's almost two dozen miles within our aerospace perimeter!" the commander, a General, snapped in constrenation. "Whats the size of the enemy force? I need details people!"

"We can't see them, sir! They're employing some sort of new jamming system. All I'm getting is a large blur on my screens. The Gerald DINN team has been scrambled and are on an overflight order to that area to try and get a visual confirmation, but we won't hear back from them for at least five minutes." an operations officer replied. The General ran his hand through his hair in frustration. ZAFT's technological edge was fast becoming dull. Oh sure, the Elementals were a godsend, worth two or three DINNs on the battlefield, but they still had so few of them, especially compared to the number of new Earth Forces esigns that were being produced. He'd spent several sleepless nights going over the intelligence reports obtained on the new war machines he could potentially be facing off against, and he was not completely sanguine about his forces' ability to measure up anymore.

"I want a full alert. All hands to battle stations. Incoming enemy force of unknown disposition and strength. Possibility of immenient WMD attack. Get all the civilian and non-essential support personnel to the shelters, right now! Move it people, lives are on the line!" the General ordered firmly.

"Sir!" the comms officer spoke up. There was no response. "Sir!" she called again, louder.

"What? I'm a bit busy here."

"You still have a call sir. From the commander of the enemy task force. Do you want me to patch him through, sir? The source of the call has not moved any closer, he's still holding position ten miles outside the sea-perimeter."

"They want to talk? Fine, though I don't expect much more than threats and boasts." the General picked up a phone and sat in his command chair. "Patch him through."

"This is Commander Markov Ashino, of the Isolationist Army 1st Combined Arms Division, calling for the officer in charge of the Capentaria Base." a youthful voice announced over the room's speakers, as the image of a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but very short for his age, with bright curly red hair and pale lime green eyes, his pale but sturdy body encased mostly in a flight suit of black with grey and orange camouflage patterns on it, sitting in the control chair of a mobile suit come on the main screens.

"I am General Dumand, of the Carpentaria Defense Force. Don't play games with me, boy, you're far too young to be a flag officer. I should have known the Alliance wouldn't want to do anything but play a stupid game..."

"My apologies General, but judging me based on my phsyical age is not very wise." Ashino cut in. "I am the commander of the task force that is currently arrayed ten miles outside your sea-perimeter. However, I don't particularly want to fight you. Well, let me be honest... I would like to fight you, but that side of me is no longer the side in control. A fact I have largely to thank President Argyle and my other friends for, but thats not relevant to this conversation. As I said, I do not wish to fight you. But the day after tomorrow will mark the end of the three month grace period outlined in President Argyle's Isolation Plan, which calls for the removal of all Coordinators from the Earth and near-Earth territories, such as the Moon. We would prefer you to leave of your own conzigance, but the use of force is authorized if you do not show signs of complying by the specified dates, which you haven't. Funds have been set aside to pay for the relocation of all Coordinators, ZAFT or civilian, from their current places of residence. Feel free to destroy any military supplies or confidential information you don't want the Alliance to have access too, but any attempt to bring military supplies back into space will be stopped."

"You sound like you're dictating terms to a surrendering foe, Commander Ashino." General Dumand observed with eyes narrowed in fury. "The Alliance may have gained an advantage when we failed to take the Moon, but we are far from defeated. You would be crazy to expect us to just give up in the face of your threats."

"I don't expect you to give up. I know Coordinators would never do such a thing, especially given all the tragedy you've been forced to endure at the hands of prejudiced members of the Alliance. But the Isolation Party is not that Alliance, that did such reprehensible things to your people, and created people like me to fight and kill you." Ashino replied. "Much as judging me by my age is a mistake, so is judging the current Alliance leadership by your experiences with the likes of Azrael and Zunnichi. We do not seek the destruction or annihilation of the Coordinator people. We just don't want you in proximity to us, because we Naturals have a sad tendency towards violence towards others. We want you to leave for your own sakes. Please... at least send your civilians home, back to the PLANTS. That's whats going to happen to them anyway, after we occupy Carpentaria. It'll be far easier on them if you let them go before a battle occurs."

General Dumand ground his teeth in supressed rage. He leant forward and stared at the boy on the screen, who was looking back at him with cold neutrality, despite his impassioned plea. "You think... you actually think... that you can appeal to my concern for our civilians in order to get me to surrender Carpentaria to you? You're right... the new regime is nothing like the old. At least they didn't bother trying to hide their villany behind a veneer of civility. Blue Cosmos is Blue Cosmos, regardless of how they dress their ideals up. President Argyle is a loon, just like his father in law was. His Isolation Plan is a flight of fancy that is just as genocidal for the PLANTS as the nukes that Zunnichi and Azrael tried to use. Any reasonable person can realize that seperation solves nothing, and cessastion of trade is pure frothing madness. We will fight to the last before we agree to slow death by starvation. This conversation is over. If you want Carpentaria, you'll have to take it from us, and unless you're willing to turn it into a radioactive wasteland, which would run counter to your so called principles, I don't think you can."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but your reply is not unexpected. Still, you have two days remaining before the end of the deadline. President Argyle promised no attacks of any sort would occur until after the deadline and I will keep his word. That is not to say we won't defend ourselves if attacked, but we will not initiate conflict until the deadline is up. I've transmitted instructions for how to start moving your people back up to the PLANTS, along with numbers to call for transportation and compensation services. Please distribute them and let your people decide for themselves. The last thing I or President Argyle want is more senseless civilian casualties. We'll be listening if you want to call..."

"ARROGANT ASS!" General Dumand severed the connection, unable to bear any more of the condescending from the Alliance commander. "So, they want to play the pure hearted knights do they, well fine. Two days will give us plenty of time to prepare and observe the enemy force. Get me ZMHQ... we're probably going to need some backup."

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"I did as you asked." Ashino reported to Sai. The Independence was currently standing on the forward flight deck of the refurbished AFNS _Victorious_ Super-Carrier, currently holding station a little more than ten miles outside Carpentaria's sea based defense perimeter. Damaged by the Archangel during the Battle of Carpentaria, the Victorious had been in drydock until just after the battles on the Moon reached their conclusion. Now fully repaired and updated, it formed the core of the Isolationist 1st CAD (Combined Arms Division), along with its two sister ships fresh out of the shipyards, the AFNS _Triumphant_ and EFNS _Magnificent_, as well as escort, support and supply vessels for each carrier. In total the fleet consisted of more than thirty ships, carrying eighty Dagger JA's, forty Cavaliers, five Templars, four Archmage Platforms with sixteen Cataphracts in support, a full wing of 72 Sky-Grasper II's, two mobile suit carried FRALA units, thirty new Devilfish class submersible Mobile Armors and fifteen thousand infantry soldiers. Plus the Independence. A similarly sized task force was operating in the Mediterranean, and a third in the North Atlantic.

"I take it you got the same answer as the other task force commanders?" Sai asked. Ashino noted that his friend looked very tired indeed, there were deep rings under his eyes and his skin was a bit pasty. Part and parcel of being a world leader in a time of crisis perhaps, but then there was the stress generated by having two young children at home. Perhaps that was a positive stress though, especially as Vanai had almost fully recovered and both children were healthy and lively, with nothing to worry about. It had to be a nice change of pace, worrying about feeding baby formula or changing diapers rather than world wide war. Well, thats what Ramierez had opined... Ashino wouldn't know either way... in fact dealing with babies seemed pretty tough to him... a lot harder than fighting a war anyway. Twins... Matthias the boy and Jessi the girl... Ashino had seen them several times now and still didn't know what to think. They cried and threw up and generally made nuisanes of themselves at all hours of the day and night... but looking at his friends when they were with their children... now that was something special. Even Cyprus had seemed affected, which had told Ashino something right there.

"They have a hard time accepting the differences between you and Cervantes." Ashino admitted. "I can't blame them for their attitude."

"Neither can I, but that doesn't change my plans. I gave them three months, and all they've done is build up their forces again. Listen, I shouldn't tell you how to fight... but... try and... well..."

"There will be as little damage as possible. I can't fight like your former friend Kira, but I won't let this be anything like the last Battle of Carpentaria." Ashino assured Sai. "Still, it won't be pretty. They're going to fight almost to the last, thats the impression I got. They know we've got them backed into a corner, and like all cornered beings, that will make them fight all the harder."

"That's the reality of things." Sai agreed. "I've got the latest intelligence briefings from Cyprus, if you want to hear them."

"Sure. And maybe afterwards we can... whats it called? Talk shop, I think? Maybe that's not the right term... hmm..."

Sai chuckled. "I'll be glad to tell you about Vanai and the kids after we get the serious stuff out of the way, Ashino, thanks for asking. And maybe you can update me on your progress with that girl... Jean, right?" Sai smirked at the briefly lost expression that crossed Ashino's face at the mention of his "girlfriend". Ashino insisted she was just a friend who was helping him come to terms with his human side, but after seeing the happy expression on his friend's face one time after he came back from a trip to a mall with this girl Jean, Sai knew there was more to it than pyschiatric counseling. It reminded him quite strongly of how he had felt about Fllay when they had first started going out. Now that was a tangled piece of barbed memory to dig up, but the pain was dull now, what with Vanai and his children around to cheer him up. "Well, ZAFT is cooking something up at the PLANTS, but we don't think they're going to try another invasion type attack. They just don't have the forces for it. In some ways that worries me, because with the option of conventional force denied them, that means they're going to have to turn to some other method for winning the war. We still don't think they'll use nukes, yet, but they have to be getting close to thinking about it."

"What about the Clyne Faction? They've been uncharacteristically silent since they intercepted Frost at November 8. Yet there is no way they have given up on trying to negotiate a peace agreement between us and the PLANTS. Lacus Clyne doesn't know the meaning of the words "give up"." Ashino asked.

"The're still battering away on the diplomatic fronts, but I think both the PLANTS and us are using the same strategy to deal with that, namely fobbing her off on any of a multitude of flunkies who like to talk but have no real power. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, the time where a single girl and her friends, no matter how well liked or respected, could influence the outcome of this war, has ended. Don't get me wrong, I won't discount the ability of the Clyne Faction to influence the outcome of the war, but with their staunchly neutral stance... well, that limits them, really. If they joined one side or the other, they could probably bring the war to an end within a few months... but staying neutral just minimizes the impact of their actions as the actions of a band of vigilantes. Especially because the one nation they are recognized by has no international legitimacy yet, since Orb is still in the early stages of reconstruction."

"No legitimacy yet, huh? Representative Attha still being stubborn, then?" Ashino said with a small smile of shared frustration. Sai nodded and winced.

"I can't talk to her face to face anymore, even over the phone. She has no concept of compromise, at least when dealing with my government. She's flat out rejected the Isolation Plan, calling it inhumane and illegal and refuses to make a deal about it, no matter how much aid I offer her. I've practically offered to rebuild Orb from the ground up at our expense, without Orb having to pay a dime, and still she refuses to enter discussions with us. I've already implented several changes she suggested for the Isolation Plan, including the provisions for providing food supplies to the PLANTS for up to a year from the initiation of the Plan, and she is still throwing fits. Okay, I get it, it's flagrantly against the Orb Constitution to deport people based solely on their race, but that is the only solution to this war that works, and if I have to appear like a racist bastard to do it, so be it!"

"She's really getting to you then if you're so worked up about it." Ashino observed.

"It's not just her. I could probably get around to her eventually by appealing on her concern for her nation as a whole. But she's married to Athrun Zala, after all. Legitimately too, with all the proper documents and papers. And he's never going to stand for the Isolation Plan, that much is obvious. He's still far too much a ZAFT patriot to let the Alliance win, and since he's opposed to me, Cagalli is. As long as he's around, Orb is going to be a problem."

"We could get rid of him. I know you don't want to stoop to assassination methods like Cervantes... but..."

"No. And its not just for morality's sake either, my friend. I've thought about it a lot, and if killing him off would help us bring peace, I might be able to do it. But if he dies, theres no way we'd ever convince Cagalli it wasn't us. If we assassinate Zala, the Clyne Faction and Orb will ally with ZAFT before his body gets cold. We'll probably still win, in the end, but it would take a hell of a lot more time and lives and thats not a price I'm willing to pay."

"But still... your orders direct us to go to Orb after we take Carpentaria and bring Australia into compliance with the Plan... she won't respond any more kindly to a task force off her shores than ZAFT has."

"I know. Trust me, I know. And I fully expect her to have the Clyne Faction fighting alongside her own forces, when you inevitably are forced to invade to bring the Isolation to them. It saddens me, it really does, that all my old comrades are going to force me to basically order their deaths, but in the interest of the greater good, I'm going to have to. And even with Kira and Athrun and Ms. Ramius and all the others fighting for her, Orb simply doesn't have the power to keep the Isolation out. Not after all thats happened to it. Truly a great loss, which I feel keenly as a former Orb citizen... but it just has to happen. It has to."

"What about that new terrorist group... the one Asmodeus and Frost started?" Ashino ground his teeth a little when he thought about Frost, who persistently refused to let the world be. Frustrating as Orb and the Clyne Faction were, at least they had peaceful intentions, they were misguided, but they were still trying to stop the war. Not so for the group of hardline Blue Cosmos fanatics and general ne'er do-wells calling themselves Tiamat, after a five headed demon-dragon of myth. The members of Tiamat specialized in hit and run attacks, raiding supply convoys and production centers, leaving twisted ruins and mutilated bodies in their wake as they made off with supplies and material, the Alliance had suffered from six such attacks already. They were still working out what Asmodeus and Frost were up to, after the initial announcement of the group's formation had been broadcast worldwide after the group destroyed a supply depot in the United States of South America about two months ago, killing nearly two hundred soldiers and civilians and stealing more than sixty tons of military supplies, as well as five old style Strike Daggers that had been mothballed there.

"Tiamat has been quiet for almost a week now... which to Cyprus and me means they're planning something big soon. Still, despite how appaling their actions are, they are little more than a sideshow, a last gasp of two sociopathic megalomaniacs trying to go out with a bang. Once we have the Isolation enforced on Earth we'll be able to snuff them out like the bad memories they are." Sai answered confidently. Privately Ashino wasn't so sure... Frost and Asmodeus were more of the "never say die" clique... they sure didn't see themselves as done and they would not be content in staying a sideshow. Especially since the latest estimates of their strength said they had at least twenty mobile suits at their disposal, in addition to the Fury. But Sai was probably right... once ZAFT and Orb were dealt with, Asmodeus and Frost would be hunted down easily enough. Ashino looked forward to that day.

"Well... that covers most of the major issues. I suppose you're going to want me to talk to you about Jean. Who ISN'T my girlfriend." Ashino said firmly.

"Sure she isn't. Thats why she was kissing you in Central Park last week, before you left to take charge of the 1st CAD." Sai retorted smoothly. The look of shock on Ashino's face was priceless. At least for a moment, then a steely look of determination re-settled across his features.

"I don't care how tough he is. Cyprus is going down. That was a very priv..."

"Man, you're too easy, Markov. Nobody was following you or spying on you. I just made that up. Though, it was what I was expecting, but it's nice to have it confirmed. Why don't you just admit it? Theres nothing wrong with having a girlfriend. Its perfectly normal."

"I'm just not comfortable with falling in love. Its strange. It makes me feel lost and unconfident."

"Thats how it makes EVERYONE feel." Sai shook his head. "God I'd say you were thickheaded, but it's really not your fault, so I can't. All right, lets skip the kiss then..."

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Ashino tuned Sai out for a few moments as his mind drifted back, not only to the goodbye he'd had with Jean in the park before he'd left for Carpentaria, but to the first time he'd been re-united with her. He'd just gotten the directions from Cyprus after Sai had run out to the hospital to see his children's birthing. He'd looked and looked for some form of transportation, a car, a helicopter, anything, but there was nothing. Everything was either being used for official or private business, or required waiting at least two or three hours to get ready. Well, Ashino was not in any mood to wait two or three minutes, much less hours... he'd contemplated stealing a vehicle, but quickly got a hold of himself and forced himself to be rational. Stealing a car or helicopter would only cause a big public scene and more problems for both himself and Sai, which neither of them needed right now. It wasn't until he'd gotten to the underground hangar area and gotten the Independence more than eighty percent of the way through a quick pre-flight check list that he realized he still wasn't thinking straight... a mobile suit was going to cause a big scene too. But by then he didn't give a damn anymore.

As he'd launched the Independence, he'd reflected that at times there were perks to being someone of importance in the government... a few quick comms kept the police and military off his back, even as the Independence cut straight across the middle of New New York City, though he did cause quite a bit of a stir amongst the population. Mobile Suits weren't a completely unseen item since the government had moved to New New York City, but it was almost unheard of for one to go rocketing across the skyline of the city in the middle of the afternoon, flying lower and faster than was strictly safe. Ashino didn't really care by that point. What would have been a thirty minute flight for a helicopter took just a little over fifteen for the Independence. It took about five more for him to identify the correct house, and a little more to decide that there really weren't any good landing spots nearby. By this time the entire suburban neighborhood was up and out of their houses, pointing up excitedly at the massive mobile suit hovering a few hundred feet overhead. Jean's family lived in a decent upper-middle class area, in a two story house of about two thousand square feet on about a three quarter acre of land. A long straight driveway sloped gently downhill to meet a cul-de-sac, their house was one of four that was served by the road end, made of dark brown wood and red brick much like all the other homes in view.

In the end he'd gone and landed in the middle of the cul-de-sac, leaving deep footprints in the asphalt, though he was careful to avoid stepping on any of the cars parked around the rim of the circular road ending. It was the work of only a few moments to pick out Jean, though she was dressed in a school uniform of white shirt and dark blue skirt, vs the pants and T shirt she'd worn in Panama. She was standing with an older man and woman who were likely her parents, while a young man a few years older than Ashino, with a military haircut and a cast on his right arm, was heading down the lawn towards the Independence, a concerned expression on his face. That would probably be the esteemed Captain Kellson then. Ashino found himself momentarily paralyzed with stage fright... he'd flown all the way here, made a huge scene of things... and he just sat there, too scared to go any further. He stared at Jean through his cameras for almost twenty seconds before he managed to kick himself back into motion. He knew he'd never be able to face Sai or Cyprus if he just took off again without talking to Jean, especially after all he'd done to get here.

"Hey! Hey! You in the suit... Hey!" Eric yelled, waving his good left arm at the gargantuan mobile suit that had just dropped out of the clear evening sky, after apparently scoping the area for threats or some such nonsense. It was plain that the mobile suit was an Earth Alliance model, that was easy to tell by the relatively blocky look and the markings, as well as how the head was constructed, but it was no Alliance model he was familiar with. It didn't look like any of the new models he'd seen up on the Moon either. It was tall... head and shoulders taller than a Crusader, and bulkier as well. For all that, from the little he'd just seen of it, it was maneuverable and quick, with an obviosuly top notch pilot at the controls. But all that aside, he couldn't figure what it was doing here, in suburban New York. If Command wanted to get a hold of him, there were easier ways... like his cell phone or pager. And the thought of a battle in the area was ludicrous... ZAFT couldn't get within a thousand miles of New New York City these days, not even if they came from orbit. With a hydraulic hiss, the cockpit opened and a mounting-cable with a foothold at the end dropped out of the cockpit.

"Eric...?" his father asked, turning to his son as the person most likely to have some idea what in all the names of hell was going on.

"I don't know, Dad." Eric replied quickly. "Hopefully whoever the pilot is has a damn good explanation for putting footprints on our road."

"What kind of mobile suit is that, Eric? Is it one of those new ones you were talking about?" his sister Jean asked, shading her eyes against the sun shining down from behind the mobile suit as she studied it.

"Beats me... its not one I'm familiar with though." Eric answered. "Hold on, looks like the pilot's coming down." Eric watched as the pilot took hold of the mounting cable and slowly started lowering himself to the ground eighteen meters below. Eric finally got a good look at the guy then, but he didn't recognize him at all. Short, the guy couldn't have been taller than five feet if not shorter, but he packed a lot of muscle onto his body all the same. He wasn't dressed in any sort of uniform Eric recognized... dark blue coveralls and black leather boots and belt, with no rank insignia or unit markings on them. The guy had pale skin and cherry red hair in tight curls on his head. Eric nearly jumped out of his skin when Jean shrieked, right next to him. For a moment he thought she'd gotten hurt somehow, but then he saw she was pointing at the pilot in shock, one hand up covering her open mouth as real tears welled in her eyes. "Jean...?"

"Its him... its him... he survived... he..." Jean muttured, paralyzed to her core. The images of that terrible day were flashing through her mind, especially the ones where Ash and his mobile suit took those final shots and fell into an abyss of fire, and the massive earth shaking explosion that had followed. She'd been sure that Ash was dead... no one could live through something like that. Especially because he hadn't come to find her, like he'd said he would. It had been months and she'd begun to accept that a guy she barely knew but cared for all the same was actually dead, even if she was overjoyed that Eric had survived his fight against the Gundams in Panama.

"You know this guy, Jean?" Eric asked as the pilot reached the ground and stood by the foot of his machine, looking more than a little unsettled by something, though he was staring directly at Eric and his family. Eric followed the guy's gaze more closely and confirmed it... yep, the guy was looking at Jean. That, combined with his sister's muttering, brought to mind what she'd told him about her own experiences in Panama. Still, he couldn't help but move in front of her protectivey. "Who are you?" he asked the pilot firmly.

"My name is Markov Johanavich Ashino." Ashino replied. "You would be Captain Eric Kellson? I've heard a lot about you."

"That's cool. I haven't heard anything about you. Mind explaining why you parked a mobile suit in front of our house?" Eric replied. Though that wasn't strictly true... something about the guys name was familiar. "And how my sister seems to know you?" Eric added, listening with half an ear to his sisters antics behind him. She was both sobbing and laughing, a combination that was quite disturbing and that he really didn't want to listen to for long.

The short pilot seemed to gain confidence the longer he talked. "Of course. That is an expected question. I first met Jean in Panama, at the festival being held there after Carpentaria. Well, I bumped into her by accident and well..." Ashino got no further before being tackled by a sobbing Jean.

"ASH! ASH, you're alive! Omigod, I was sure you were dead. What happened to you!?" she cried, burying her face against the back of his neck as she hugged him tight. Ashino froze awkwardly, before slowly putting his arms around her, though he was careful not to squeeze too tight. He felt detached from reality, like his body was numb... but it wasn't a bad feeling at all. No, the soft and warm person in his arms... that was undeniably a good thing, even if she was crying all over his back. That didn't really matter for some reason. He couldn't manage anything but simply holding her for almost a minute, before the sound of a throat being cleared brought him back to the here and now.

"Ahem. Thats my sister you're cuddling. And she did ask you a question, you know. I'd like a few answers, before I break my foot off in your ass, buddy." Eric prompted. He wasn't epecting it when Jean flew out of Ashino's arms and nearly broke his shin with a vicious kick. "OWW! WHAT THE HELL...!?"

"This man saved my life in Panama several times and probably saved yours too, nearly dying in the process. And you're gonna go off and threaten him!? You're lucky you're hurt, or I'd put you in the hospital!" his sister told him furiously.

"Now dear... some of us here have no idea whats going on. Perhaps we should go inside and talk things over, hmm?" his mother came over and put her hand on Jean's shoulder in a "don't mess with mom" gesture.

"I would be amendable to that." Ashino offered. He looked around at all the staring neighbors and flushed more than a little. "I'm never going to hear the end of this from Sai..."

It was at the mention of that name that Eric's memory finally clicked and came up with the information that had been eluding it ever since Ashino identified himself. He felt his legs go to jelly for a moment, and not just from the bruise Jean had given him. He'd been about to get tough with the Supreme Commander of the Alliance Mobile Forces... his bosses bosses... several more bosses... boss. The second in command of the entire Alliance Military. He saluted so fast he cracked himself across the forehead with his cast. "Sir! Sorry, sir, I didn't recognize you!"

"Please don't do that, I'm embarassed as it is." Ashino muttered. "I'm not here in an official capacity. I'm just here to see a friend. Okay? And you aren't in uniform anyway, so don't salute me."

"Of course, sir. My bad... oh crap..." Eric was appalled at speaking so informally. Careers could be ended by a single misspoken word, at least when dealing with top brass. Even if the guy didn't act like top brass.

"Listen, Ca... no, Eric. My name is Ashino. Don't call me sir, unless we're both in uniform. Damn... now I know how Cyprus and Sai feel. This is annoying. Anyway, I'm here to see Jean. And I really think we should continue this discussion inside." Ashino nodded at where Jean was being guided... somewhat forcibly... inside the Kellson home by her mother.

"Not quite yet, young man. I don't know who you are, but this whole thing is too strange for my liking. My children obviously know you, though not in the same fashion. Jean has feelings for you, anyone can see that, but normal boyfriends don't fly up in gigantic war machines. So you're going to satisfactorily explain to me who you are, why you're here and what you want from Jean, or I'll call the police." James Kellson interrupted firmly, arms folded across his chest. Eric fought a strangled cry of dismay, switching his gaze between Ashino, the mobile suit, and his father.

"Dad..."

"Not now, Eric. I'll hear an answer from you, Mr. Ashino, if that's your name." James said adamantly. Ashino sighed in relief... with concrete guidance or specific questions to answer, he was feeling much more confident.

"It's something of a long story, but it starts in Panama, after Carpentaria, like I was saying..."

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"Ashino! Markov! HEY are you listening to me?" Sai's shout brought Ashino out of his reverie. He shook his head a few times and focused his eyes. Sai studied his friend and realized that pretty much the last ten minutes had been a waste of breath on his part... Ashino had been in dream land while Sai blathered on about the thousand and one interesting things about his children. "I'll tell you about it another time maybe. Though you'll be regretting your lack of attention if you have kids someday, adopted or otherwise." Sai watched Ashino zone out again and he cut the call. "Damn it, was I ever that dreamy... guess I was... lucky bastard." Sai mused with a smile.

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"Ash! Hey Ash... over here!" Jean called, waving at him from by the fountain where they had arranged to meet. Ashino waved back, acknowledging that she'd seen him, though he'd actually been watching her for almost fifteen minutes now, just soaking her up with his memory. He only had a few more hours until he was scheduled to fly the Independence out to meet the 1st CAD, which was en route to the Carpentaria area at that moment in preparation for beginning the first phase of the Isolation Plan. He forced himself not to think about that... soon that would be all he would think about and right now he wanted to focus on Jean. As usual she was beautiful, dressed today in a one piece red dress that he thought was very flattering for her figure. Of course he was still learning the basics of style, so his opinion was somewhat suspect, but she never seemed to mind his compliments, a note he had underlined in his notebooks. He made his way past one of the many playground sets that decorated this part of Central Park and approached her.

"My name is Markov Ashino. Preferably Ashino. Not Ash. Thats just a cover name I used in Panama." He told her once they were in easy speaking distance.

"Your name is Ash, as long as you continue to respond to it." Jean replied, hugging him. "And because I say it is."

"And why again is what you say right?" Ashino wondered.

"Because I'm the girl in this relationship."

"I still haven't worked out the logic behind that statement, despite how often you use it." he replied. Still, he couldn't find it in him to argue long. Perhaps that was what she meant, that because she could break down his barriers and resistance so easily, he would have to just accept whatever name she chose for him. Not that he minded, of course... hmm... more contemplation was needed. But that was something to do later. "And you know I don't like calling it a relationship. It implies more than..."

"Shut up and walk with me, Ash/" Jean commanded, linking arms with him. She had to admit, despite his annoying ability to nitpick every bit of word choice she used, he was really good at following orders, though at times she did feel bad taking such a authoritative tone with him. Outside of a dangerous situation, he was very passive and pliant to her desires, something she was working on changing... though not too much. He was very cute as a pliant guy.

"So where are we going today?" Ashino asked after a few minutes of walking along the pathways, just enjoying the afternoon together. "Not the mall again..."

"I don't see what problem you have with the mall. I'm not much of a social butterfly, but even I like to hang out at the mall now and again. Its normal. The done thing."

"I am not normal. Public places still make me very uncomfortable. I'm afraid I'm either going to accidentally hurt someone or break something or cause a scene."

"Oh please. You're the most self controlled guy I know. So what if you can shatter wooden boards with your grip, you've never ever bruised my hand."

"Perhaps so, but I'm far from perfect. And I do get over-protective easily."

"Yes you do, and thats one reason I agreed to spending more time in the park rather than on the streets. Its very endearing and cute, Ash, but just because other guys think I'm pretty does not mean you have to be so... so..."

"Direct?"

"Intimidating." Jean corrected. "Direct would be "Hey, keep your eyes to yourself", while bending the handlebar of his motorcycle upwards ninety degrees is intimidatiing."

"It seems a fine distinction to me. What I wanted to do was bend his forearm up ninety degrees, but I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."

"Well, you're mostly right. Though you do know my dirty little secret about violence." Jean stopped by a park bench and looked around. She couldn't see anyone or hear anyone. Still, she was just a Natural. "Are we alone, Ash?" she watched him cock his head slightly for a few moments, putting to use his unimaginably keen senses. She still was amazed at some of the stuff he could do, like how far he could see and hear, and the sensitivity of his touch and smell. Even his ability to taste was extremely heightened, to the point where it was hard for him to enjoy some kinds of spiced food because he got all the flavors seperately rather than properly mixed.

"There's two people about three hundred feet behind us, but they aren't moving any closer. Probably a pair of lovers in search of some privacy. Other than that, we are alone for any reasonable sense of the wor..." Ashino didn't get to finish his reply before Jean covered his mouth with her own. It wasn't the first time she'd kissed him since he'd flown the Independence to her house. It wasn't even the tenth or twentieth. But still, each time froze him just like the very first, in Panama. It scrambled every bit of his organized mind and left him feeling helpless and confused... but still, he couldn't get enough of the feeling for some reason. Jean finally had to come up for air and she released him. He instantly noticed the moisture in her eyes. "Jean..."

"Don't say anything, Ash. I called your boss and he told me that you're going to be deploying to the front in a few hours. Why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me? You can answer those." Jean whispered.

"Of course I trust you. More than I trust myself. Which was why... I couldn't figure out how to tell you... Jean, I..."

"Shh. You'll get a chance to apologie and set things right in a bit. Right now, you get to listen to me lecture you. You can shake your head yes or no, but you don't say a word until I say you can, do you understand?" She watched him nod his head. "Good. So, you're going to the front, with your Gundam, right?" Nod. "And you're going to be there for some time, fighting on the front lines?" Nod. "And you're unsure how this makes you feel, taking into account our relationship?" Pause, then eventual nod. "Are you worried about going into battle?" Shake. "Are you worried about me?" Nod. "You're aware that I'm less than happy with the idea of you going into battle, after what happened last time?" Vigorous nod. "But you're going to anyway, because you feel you're obligated to by your friendship with Sai and your duty as Commander of the Mobile Forces?" Pause, then a shrug and nod. "Nothing I say could convince you not to go?" Very long pause, then a slow shake. "Damn it, Ash..."

"I wish I could have given you the answer you wanted, Jean. But I won't lie to you." Ashino said softly.

"Didn't say you could talk..." Jean protested weakly, tears in her eyes.

"Shh yourself. You tell me to be assertive in our relationship, so I will be." Ashino replied. "I am more than aware that you don't like the idea of me fighting, that the thought of me in the midst of a battle is painful to you... and anything painful to you is doubly painful to me. But I can't ignore my responsibilty towards making the world a better place. If I didn't go, and something happened to the people under my command, including your brother, whom I'm sure you also tried to get not to go, I would not be able to handle that personal disappointment. It would be the end of me, and the end of our relationship, which I truly do not want. I'm not comfortable with the idea of love, not being a BCPU. But with your help I think I'll eventually be able to learn to be comfortable with it."

"So why fight then? I know you're good, I've talked with Eric after he did his simulator training against you and he's positively scared of you... but... still..."

"Worry is natural. Thats what Cyprus told me and it makes sense. When you value someone, you will worry about them when they are in danger, theres just no helping it. That you worry about me means so much to me I cannot express it. The concern Sai and Vanai and the other friends of mine have for me is one thing, but your worry is on an entirely different level. Your worry makes me want to be back here already, walking in the park with you. For someone like me, designed to be a weapon against Coordinators, I think thats a significant step in the right direction, don't you?"

"I'm supposed to be the one reassuring you..." Jean said quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"No, that I believe is the job of the guy in the relationship, isn't it?" Ashino said with a smile. When she tilted her head up to kiss him again, he actually initiated it this time.

"I think you have better things to do than talk..."

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"This is frustrating. They've completely dropped off the networks. I wish they'd stop hiding on the Moon and get back into the thick of things. I expected more from Lacus Clyne." Noah sighed in boredom and frustration, his mind a thousand miles away while his hands constantly moved, putting together yet another robotic friend. Ever since he'd successfully built the pink replacement Haro, building his own menagerie of robotic pets had become something of a downtime hobby for him, when he wasn't working on more serious projects, like Mobile Suits or Nanotech. Most of them were just normal robots, with interactive personality chips he programmed himself that made them act surprisngly lifelike, such as the unit he was building right now, which he'd already named Merlin. Merlin was a dodecahedron, a hundred sided figure, about eight inches in diameter. He was far more than just a cosmetic pet like a Haro though, he was actually an extremely sophisticated anti-espionage and data storage/display mechanism, which would just incidentally have the ability to move about on its own. With an anti-gravity motor quite a bit more powerful than the one Haro used to bounce, Merlin could float about as Noah pleased, anywhere from two to twenty feet off the ground.

Once he was done with Merlin, if he still had time to kill before his next scheduled project, he'd work more on his two pride and joys, twin dragons he called Phlegethion and Aether. Each was, or would be, the size of a large dog, maybe two feet tall at the shoulder, with a four foot long body, two foot neck and four foot tail, with a wingspan of slightly more than seven feet. These machines would be far more than just pets, he was building himself a pair of bodyguards that would never sleep and never waver in the pursuit of their duties. Each machine would probably end up costing as much to produce as an Elemental class mobile suit, but he was glad to pay the cost. He was going to have enemies, narrow minded people who would refuse to see the good he was doing... he would need protection, protection that couldn't be bribed or gassed or fooled. Protection that was absolutely loyal to him and him alone, but was still able to think, plan and improvise to accomplish its missions. He was already cultivating a likely pair of girls to serve as control circuits for his dragons, now that he knew what to expect from the imprinting process.

Thinking about memory imprinting led his mind to thinking about the Pulsar. It was an unfortunate sitatution, that Uncle Borander had succumbed to the NIC flaw right in the middle of a battle, but at least he'd managed to get a wealth of information on his Uncle's fighting habits, more than enough to use as the kernel for the AI combat systems he was developing for eventual use with his own mobile suit. Still, he wasn't comfortable with the thought of the Pulsar and all its technology being in the hands of other people, even if it was likely to be the Clyne Faction. Noah was surprised no one else had yet figured out who had likely recovered the Pulsar, but then again no one else knew that it was likely to have started drifting, pilotless, across the path the Clyne Faction had taken to the Moon. Currently ZAFT was calling the machine MIA, likely destroyed, which was far from the truth, but Noah had no plans of disabusing them of that idea. The idea of being able to get battle data from someone like Kira Yamato or Athrun Zala was just too precious a resource to waste.

Noah was confident he'd get the data eventually... there was no way the Clyne Faction wouldn't eventually use the Pulsar, if only to try and figure out some of the technologies. Though they would likely be cautious, since they would have seen what happened to Jeremiah. Noah shrugged and shelved that line of thought for the moment. Of much bigger concern was the situation with ZAFT and the Alliance. The big thrust against the Moon had failed, partly due to the loss of the Pulsar, but mostly because of the sudden appearance on the field of many new types of Alliance technology, something even he hadn't anticipated quite so soon. President Argyle was more capable than he seemed, since his R and D labs were not among the networks Noah was tapped into. Yet. It was just a matter of time though, and then Noah would strip everything of value from the Natural's work and then improve it a dozen times over and incorporate it into his own designs. He was especially interested in the laser weaponry that had penetrated the Positron Shields so easily.

And now the deadline for Argyle's so called Isolation Plan was almost up. Noah had read a summary of General Dumand's report to the Supreme Council, courtesy of his bug on Durandal's new computer. Of course no one in the PLANTS or ZAFT had taken the whole Isolation Plan seriously, until now, chalking it up as political posturing. Well, now everyone was panicking, because there were major Alliance task forces on approach to all terrestrial ZAFT holdings, all with the same message... "get out now or we'll kick you out". Something that seemed well within the power of the Alliance to do, with their new technology and superior numbers. Reinforcements were en route, but many were dubious as to the worth of sending them at all, because ZAFT could not afford any losses at the moment. Troop levels were down into the red zone, nearing the point of unavailability. Noah had briefly contemplated offering the use of some of his more developed designs, but in the end he decided to let things play out a bit more. He'd swoop in and save the day if he had to, but he'd really prefer not to tip his hand for several more years if he could at all avoid it.

A light blinked on a nearby computer console. Noah flicked a switch, which activated a voice scrambler and the comm line at the same time. "Speak." he ordered, soldering several of Merlin's terabyte level memory chips into place.

"Sir, this is your lunar reclaimation team. We've reached the target zone undetected, though there is something of an Alliance presence that will slow our analysis work. We've already begun the initial survey, and we should be able to recover a significant amount of material, more than enough to meet your specifications." the man reported.

"I see. I'll do what I can to minimize the ability of the Alliance to interfere. Take your time and do the job right. No witnesses. For the Brotherhood." Noah replied.

"For the Brotherhood." the man echoed, fervor and pride in his voice. Noah smiled as he flicked off the comm line. "The Brotherhood" was one of several names he used for his clandestine organization of mercenaries, traitors, dissidents and other radicals, none of whom had any real idea who was calling the shots, except for his inner circle of subordinates, people like Jean Dylan and Aireg Randolf. There were more now... Mary O'Brien, freshly recovered from the extensive injuries she suffered during Purgatory Day, though she was still incapable of any vocal noise other than a hoarse shriek. Craydon Thresher too, and what a piece of work he was. Uncle Franklin sure did have some interesting ideas, several of which Noah was now furthering research on. Though little more than a ravaged torso and head, Thresher still lived and even thought, though only a Newtype would have been able to discern that. It was nowhere near as fun cultivating Thresher's mind as it was his girls, but it was far easier. The BCPU was designed to be dependent on an authority figure, and all Noah had to do was assume the identity of that person, in this case his Uncle Franklin, and Thresher would do whatever he asked in an almost pathetic manner. It was annoying to be called Doc all the time though.

Another call came in and he answered it just like the first. "Sir, I have a report on the activities of the group calling themselves Tiamat." the agent, a middle aged female, said teresly. Noah deduced that she was extremely excited, which meant the information was either exclusive or of ground shattering importance. Likely the former, and he could guess what it was anyway, now that he thought about it.

"You know where they're going to attack. It'll be New New York City, won't it?" Noah said calmly. There was silence on the line.

"How did you know, sir? Theres barely ten people on Earth that know this, even most of Tiamat doesn't know." She sounded both frustrated and awestruck. Noah smirked, since that was the impression he always worked hard to give.

"How I know is little concern of yours, though it is a simple matter of logic. Do you have details?"

"Yes, sir. With most of the Alliance's strength and attention focused on their three pronged assault on ZAFT, Asmodeus figures that security around the President will be weakened. The governmental bunkers under New New York City are strong, but Tiamat has managed to obtain a supply of nerve gas. They'll go in with mobile suits, they have nearly twenty Crusaders now, mostly piloted by those BCPU things that Frost leads. Meanwhile Asmodeus will lead an infiltration of the bunkers with a team of his Hellhound and MAGOS defectors, they'll be the ones with the gas. Casualties and collateral damage will be maximized, and they won't stop until the President and his entire command staff are dead. It's almost like they want the PLANTS to have an advantage again, but given who it is..."

"They're insane. Figuring out their motives is impossible. Thank you for your work, and any further information, such as an exact date or time, will be welcomed. For the Brotherhood."

"For the Brotherhood."

"So... you're going to try and further the chaos, hmm, Asmodeus?" Noah said to the empty room after cutting off the comm line again. "Well, I don't care if you do... but I think you may be in for something of a surprise." Noah flicked his gaze over to a computer screen, which showed some of the data he'd just recently gotten from his data sifting programs on Earth. A re-arrangement of the Earth to Moon personnel shuttle schedules. A launch slated to bring vital medical supplies up had been delayed to allow a shipment of "soft goods", which was cargo parlance for people. Very few people in the Alliance had the pull needed to make last minute adjustments to shuttle schedules, especially onses carrying vital supplies. Someone very important wanted to get to the Moon, soon. He had a very good idea who that someone likely was. What confirmed his idea even more was an unscheduled trip by several Supreme Council members and their aides, including Durandal, which was also going to the Moon, soon. Someone had set up some talks, very quietly. Noah was impressed, because he'd thought he'd tapped all methods of communication with the Supreme Council, but apparently there were still one or two routes for information to flow privately. Probably by hand delivering messages written on paper.

"I wonder what you're going to do, Lacus? Are you behind this peace negotiation... no, that can't be it. But you know about it, don't you? Yes, of course you do. And you're going to do whatever you can to influence President Argyle and the Supreme Council members. You might even be successful, if Argyle is willing to compromise his Isolation Plan. Do I want that... hmm... no. Not yet. I think it might be prudent of me to visit old Luna as well. After all, it would hardly be fair to let you use your powers unchallenged. I'll let you win when the time is right, but the mix isn't quite right yet. Oh look, I've gone and finished him already. Hello, Merlin."

"Hello, Noah... did you know..." the machine soon began a litany of all the knowledge that Noah had put into him, which was enough to bore even a mind as expansive as his.

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	88. The Isolation, Gathering

Review reply: To my good reader KenshinGoku. Thank you for your business, but please let me reply and attempt to justify myself. Your image of Kira and mine is very different. You see him as a near divine type, the best at everything he tries, far and above better than everyone else because he is an Ultimate Coordinator. However I think you're placing too much stress on the Ultimate part of that, without regard for what exactly one is. According to the series, an Ultimate Coordinator is one who is born entirely artificially, without any biological input from his mother's body potentially messing up the transfer of skills/traits from his parents to him. It doesn't necessarily mean he's the best at everything. In fact, outside of a mobile suit, Kira is highly skilled, but not necessarily better than others. Even in a mobile suit, he is defeated by Shinn in GS Destiny. Perhaps you are right, that if properly trained in something, Kira could be better at it than almost anyone else, but lacking such training, he's simply a guy. Remember, above all things, that a Coordinator merely has POTENTIAL, and potential does not equate to superiority unless you work hard at it. Its an argument that is made several times in GS itself, as well as in this story. I've never read GS Astray though, so I'm afraid your references there don't mean much to me.

Review reply: To KLL is enough: You say I have too many characters, and that I should just focus on a single pairing, just Kira X Lacus, for instance. There are plenty of nice stories on this site that indulge that desire for you. However, it is my personal opinion that, when writing a story like mine, which is designed as a continuation/extension of the core plot of the GS universe, it is best to stick to the core values of a Gundam story. And Gundam stories are all about multiple characters. It's a war story after all, about a world wide war. They may have main characters, people whom the action is centered around, but much of the meat of the story is brought in by the people that main character reacts with, even if they are just a nameless soldier who dies in a single episode. You are right, the story is long because it is in fact multiple stories, all telling the same thing from multiple perspectives. But I believe its those multiple perspectives that make Gundam stories and series so interesting, not to mention the political/social commentary woven into them. If I want single character focus, I'll go watch Hellsing or Outlaw Star or another 13-26 episode series.

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"There's the shuttle with the PLANT delegation now." Waltfeld nodded at one of the icons on the Archangel's sensor screens. "They sure got here fast, for a clandestine meeting anyway." The Archangel was currently anchored a few dozen kilometers outside Copernicus City, in a shadowed valley of one of the many mountain ranges that criss-crossed the lunar surface. The Kusanagi was anchored a few hundred meters away, just over a couple ridgelines. While it was still technically possible for any ship, ZAFT, Alliance or otherwise, to dock at Copernicus City Harbor since the city itself was strictly a civilian venture, no one had particularly felt like testing their luck with the authorities. The last thing they wanted was to provoke a confrontation between themselves and the massed Alliance forces still present on the Moon. Of course, that stance had led to them spending a very frustrating few months cooped up on board the ships, with only an occassional stealthy supply run to liven up the boredom.

"Considering all they've lost in the last few engagements, I'm almost surprised this sort of thing didn't occur sooner." Murrue replied. "I guess it took having a few task forces sitting outside their control zones to make the PLANTS realize that Sai wasn't joking when he proposed his Isolation Plan. And now they're trying to make up for their procrastination. Despite all thats come between us in the course of this war, I do have to respect Sai for his dedication to bringing peace, even if his methods are somewhat misguided. He agreed to fly up here without a second's hesitation after he got the message from Cagalli's people that the PLANTS were interested in entering preliminary negotiations. I didn't expect him to come personally."

"Nowadays the Alliance Government is like Cagalli's in a lot of ways, due to the radical re-organization it underwent after the disaster at Panama. Sai stays in power by the force of his personality and the visible progress he's made in bringing victory to the Alliance and an end to the war. Much like Cagalli stays in power due to the love her people have for her, due to the sacrifices she has made and the progress she's accomplished in restoring Orb to its former status." Lacus explained, though it wasn't really necessary. It was just words to fill the time while they waited for the PLANT shuttle to arrive, then waited for the shuttle from Earth with Sai and the Isolationist delegation to show up as well. Neither side had specifically invited her or an Orb delegation, but neither had they forbidden them to attend. And given that the meeting wouldn't have even been able to take place if the Supreme Council had not contacted the Clyne Faction in order to send a private message through unofficial channels to the Isolationist government, Lacus felt more than justified in attending. "Sai doesn't really have too many people he could unilaterally trust to speak for him to send. It must be a lot of work leading a government through micro-management, the stress must be incredible."

"Though even that says a lot about how seriously Sai is taking this meeting. Him leaving the Earth so suddenly can't have given him much time to leave instructions for his government to follow, he won't want to spend much time out of direct contact or problems will start cropping up for him." Kira commented. Like Lacus, and indeed most of the rest of the major Clyne Faction supporters, he was dressed formally, in a suit only slightly less showy than the tux he'd worn for Sai's wedding. The memories of the last direct encounter with his friend were playing rapid fire through Kira's mind, and had been ever since he'd discovered that Sai was going to be attending the meeting personally. He really, really hoped this time wouldn't turn out like that time, though of course this time there was no Cervantes to worry about, plotting behind the scenes. No, just Sai, who'd already changed far beyond Kira's understanding. There was nothing positive to be gained by worrying about what Sai's reaction would be, but that did nothing to stop Kira from worrying. He felt the light, reassuring brush on his mind by Lacus and he smiled for her. He smiled more genuinely when he happened to glance over at Athrun.

Athrun noticed Kira's grin and look and he gave his friend the evil eye stare. Athrun had just recently been appointed ambassador for Orb, by Cagalli, an official posting that let him speak for her in almost total confidence whenever she wasn't around to speak for herself. It was going to fall to him to represent Orb's interests in the peace negotiations that were going to commence sometime today. He wasn't looking forward to it... when he, Athrun Zala, formerly of ZAFT and son of the former Supreme Council Chairman, was presented to members of that same Supreme Council as the representative of a nation that had hardly been an ally to the PLANTS. He also really hated the suit, which was in the style of the Orb Representatives... royal purple coat and slacks with a pale cyan button down shirt underneath the coat. He just didn't feel right wearing it, he'd almost have preferred being back in his ZAFT red-coat uniform. He was forced to admit though, that the official nature of his appointment had helped him a lot with patching things up with Cagalli, since he had to talk to her at least once a day in an official capacity. Not that things had really been that bad... but she had been pretty angry with him, and he with her. He was very pleased to see that she wasn't anywhere near as clingy as she'd been on the day of their departure... indeed, she'd actually hung on up him three times, official call or no, before Kisaka forced her to talk to him, the first time.

"What's the matter, Athrun? You look preturbed." Dearka could not help needling, adjusting the collar of his own suit to a more comfortable fit. He was dressed much more casually than the major players, since he was not going to have any but the most superficial role in the negotiations. But he was still fidgeting constantly, and it wasn't because he didn't like how his clothes fit.

"Least I'm honest enough to show my feelings on the surface." Athrun retorted. It wasn't very nice, but he wasn't in the most congenial of moods either. It was known to them that Tad Elsman, Dearka's father, was one of the Supreme Council delegates, which was why Dearka was sweating bullets behind the facade of calm. For that matter, Ysak wasn't much better, since his mother, Ezalia Jule, was also among the delegates.

"Yeesh, someone's got a burr up their backside. What, Cagalli not talking to you again?" Dearka fired back. Miriallia firmly placed her hand on his arm and led him away to the other side of the bridge before more heated words could be exchanged. The last thing they all needed to do was be sniping at each other during the middle of a peace conference. It was starting to get to a tough point though... three months of inaction, cooped up on the same two ships... it was getting to everyone. There really wasn't much to do besides clean, do routine maintenance, play simulators, watch a movie everyone had already seen five times or read books. Unless you were Lacus or Waltfeld or Murrue, in which case there was always a lot to worry about. The Coordinator pilots had pooled their efforts for nearly a month trying to figure out the ZAFT Gundam, which they had finally figured out was called the Pulsar. They hadn't gotten very much from their effort. So much about how the machine operated and what exactly a lot of the systems did was either protected behind security measures of such deviousness that not even Kira or Athrun had any luck in hacking them, or wouldn't be apparent until they gave the machine a test flight, something they were all very reluctant to do given how they'd found the last pilot.

They'd identified the dead pilot at length, and his identity had surprised all the Coordinators that had spent any time at all living on the PLANTS. Jeremiah Borander, one of the Ace-Commander's of ZAFT, the white-coats... all the ZAFT pilots and Waltfeld had heard of him of course. One of the top three ZAFT aces, right up there with Rau Le Creusete, and scion of what was probably the richest Coordinator family in all of the PLANTS, and one of the fifteen wealthiest families in all of Earth space. BoranderCorp made everything, from childs toys to medical products to mobile suits. It was BoranderCorp that had produced the Efreet, Grendel and Elemental classes of mobile suit that were now the mainstay of the ZAFT forces, and from there it wasn't too much of a leap to deduce that BoranderCorp had likely built the Pulsar as well. That worried many, because of the level of technology seen in the Pulsar was not something they wanted to see in the hands of a firm with the resources to potentially produce more, maybe even mass produce. Especially considering the apparent design flaw in the control system that had proved so fatal to Jeremiah, who had suffered the agony of having his entire nervous system charred to ash along with his brain, resulting in a death that was neither instantaneous nor painless.

Jeremiah's body was still in the morgue aboard the Archangel, awaiting a time when they could return him to his family. Right now they weren't sure when that was, because admitting they had Jeremiah's body was as good as admitting they had the Pulsar as well, and ZAFT was sure to want to get their Gundam back, at almost any cost considering the investment it represented. Lacus was hoping that they would be able to arrange something with the Supreme Council delegation, after the peace talks had concluded. She half watched the PLANT shuttle, a Silverwind class vessel much like the one that had once carried her to the ruins of Junius Seven, entered the Copernicus City Harbor and began docking procedures. A glance at the Archangels long range sensors showed another shuttle icon inbound from Earth, almost certainly the one that would be carrying Sai and his advisors. She smoothed down the royal purple pleats of her dress and nervously fingered her hair ornament again, a nervous tic that had been with her for ages now. She felt she had every right to be nervous... this was looking like it might be their last big chance to resolve things peacefully between the Alliance and the PLANTS. They could not afford to mess this up.

_I'm sure we'll be fine. Both sides seem eager to find a peaceful solution to the war._ Katie's beepcall flicked Lacus back out of her nervous thoughts. Lacus looked around and smiled briefly when she saw the brief thumbs up Katie shot her, from where she stood helping Ysak adjust his own clothing in a nervous tic similar to Dearka's. _I'd almost rather be in your shoes, dealing with just the fate of the world, ya know? I have to deal with this mama's-boy here, who can't stop trembling because he's scared his mom is gonna yell at him._ A mental eye roll was difficult to describe, but Lacus got the picture. _Besides, we can always nudge things along a little if need be. No, no, don't frown at me like that, I didn't mean we should influence their thoughts like you're thinking. We should just... keep things feeling friendly, yes? Keep things mellow and nonconfrontational. Surely thats okay, right?_

_We'll deal with it if the need arises, but I'd really prefer not to._ Lacus replied firmly. _Using our abilities to force a peaceful resolution would not be helpful, as both sides would only shake off our influence after a short time and then they would be more suspicous then ever, of not only each other but us as well. If we use our powers unwisely, it could very well be a deathblow to the negotiations... please try to remember that Katie. I know you'd just be trying to help but..._

_Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, don't worry about it all right? I'll follow your lead, unless something goes terribly wrong, in which case you'd better follow mine, because like you thought, morals and ethics aside, we can't afford to let either side walk out on these negotiations. Now, go tend to your man, and help him adjust his suit like everyone else is doing. Stillness like his is unnatural._

_You should see the inside of his mind if you think he's just standing there idly... no, that wasn't permission to pry either._

_Thats no fun._ Katie pouted and returned her attention and likely her conversation, to Ysak.

"I'm sure this won't end up like last time. We're meeting on effectively neutral ground, and its not just the Alliance here." Lacus said quietly to Kira, coming over to stand beside him. "For all that, you don't have to come if you don't want to. I'd totally understand if you didn't, given the confrontation you had with Sai last time."

"Hiding from unpleasantness is hardly my style these days, though." Kira shook his head and shrugged. "I won't say I don't have reservations about meeting Sai again, but I think the both of us can shelve our personal problems with each other in the interest of the greater good for humanity. At least, I'm pretty sure I can. Don't expect me to talk too much though, I'm afraid I'll say more than I mean to again... what I said in Hawaii... I didn't mean for it to sound like I was telling him to trust me and not his wife, but that's certainly how he took it. I'm just not so good with this whole diplomacy thing."

"You'll do fine. Just having Kira Yamato present at the meeting will help keep things civil. No one wants to provoke someone with skills like yours, love. It's very reassuring for me." Lacus said with a small grin, taking his hand with hers.

"Being feared for my abilities doesn't make me happy, but if my reputation is helpful to you, thats all that matters." Kira replied. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You and Katie get things all worked out between you two?" He chuckled when he saw her look of surprise. "No, I'm not becoming an Active. Just an observation based on the fact that you were making faces at each other for a while there. You'll have to be careful about doing that during the conference... we don't need everyone else wondering if you're crazy."

"But I am crazy... I hear these voices in my head all the time. They tell me to do all these naughty things..." Lacus giggled.

"I wish I could say that I'm not disturbed by the thought of you and Katie talking to each other about things like that, but I am."

"Who said anything about Katie? Just because your vocal chords aren't always working right doesn't mean I can't hear you anyways, dear."

"And on that note, I think I need to go change my brain filters out." Alkire commented, sidling away from where he'd been leaning on a bulkhead nearby, unnoticed by either of them. He noticed their surprised looks. "Hey, so that stuff Katie said about disciplining your mind really does work for hiding from you new-whatevers, huh? Cool, maybe I won't lose hide and seek all the time anymore."

"The Alliance diplomatic shuttle is on final approach to the Copernicus City Harbor. We should probably start heading over there if we want to get in on the beginning of the negotiations." Murrue spoke up. She looked around at the gathered group. "Heres hoping, then..."

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"Still feeling okay, dear?" Sai asked, leaning over to look more closely at his wife and children, who were seated in a heavily padded acceleration couch, vs the more normal chair he was sitting in. The shuttle was mostly empty, except for Sai, Vanai, the children, Cyprus and a few of his guards. No doubt many would wonder where his gaggle of aides and advisors was, but Sai didn't hold with the idea of being a politician surrounded by a small army of flunkies. Sure, he might ask Cyprus or Ramierez to grab a cup of coffee now and again, or make a few copies of a document while Sai worked on something else, but by and large he did all of his work himself, because he just couldn't find it in him to delegate. Some of it was that he didn't trust most of the people trying to help him, recognizing them as purely political animals trying to curry favor with the boss to assure their own status, but also it just wasn't in his nature to make other people do his work, even though it was running him ragged with all the extra responsibility. He smiled, thinking that it was for the better... the more he hated his job the easier it would be to pass it on when the time came.

It was probably a good thing the shuttle was mostly empty, and had a high quality air circulating/cleaning system. Matthias and Jessi were just over three months old, the pride of their parent's world, but they were still three month old babies. They cried a lot, they puked and spat frequently and they soiled themselves with regularity. Back on Earth, Vanai had a whole support staff dedicated to helping take care of the twins, but she'd only been able to bring two of them up to the Moon with her, and both were currently dealing with space sickness, a common malady to people who'd never been out of the Earth's gravity. Sai's own stomach had fluttered some, but he'd been acclimated to microgravity during his tenure aboard the Archangel and old habits died hard. Cyprus and his men were likewise mostly unaffected, though Ramierez had been uncharacteristically withdrawn and quiet, as had Glory. Vanai hadn't thrown up yet, but the vomit suction hose hadn't left her hand since they'd left the atmosphere and she'd been holding as still as possible with her eyes closed as she fought the nausea. Matthias and Jessi had surprisngly handled the microgravity with ease and every sign of enjoyment.

"I'll be okay... probably... just... don't ask me... to live here." Vanai managed to gasp out. Sai grasped her hand and patted her shoulder for a moment in consolation. In truth, he was a little relieved too, when the docking tube extended and mated with the shuttle access doors. He was just unbuckling his seatbelt when he felt Cyprus's hand on his arm. Cyprus didn't say anything, he just tilted his head and pointed out a window. Initially Sai thought his friend was indicating the Silverwind class ship that the PLANT delegation must have arrived on, but then his eyes hit upon the smaller vessel Cyprus was actually pointing at. Sai had seen vessels like that before on several occassions... it was a lifeboat from an Archangel class warship. He'd been aware of course, that the Clyne Faction was going to try and involve itself in the peace negotiations ever since he'd recieved the coded message from the PLANTS via his message traffick with Orb, but expecting it and confirming it were two entirely different things. He had nothing against Lacus or the Clyne Faction, even if they were by and large idealistic dreamers who preferred to talk rather than take action... but where Lacus went, Kira would not be far away. Sai grimaced, he really didn't want to deal with Kira right now.

Still, there was nothing to do but accept what lay in the future. He could put on a nice face for a few hours or even a few days, and ignore the offensive presence of his former friend. It was part of being a politician, being able to socialize with people you privately loathed. "Just as we discussed then, Cyprus. We'll treat them with every courtesy, but if they start causing problems I want you to make sure they understand they are only attending the talks under my good graces. I'm willing to work with the Clyne Faction to make peace a workable reality, but if they don't want to be reasonable then I won't stand for their meddling."

"Yes, sir." Cyprus acknowledged. "Transportation is currently waiting outside the terminal area for us. The PLANT delegation is already at the conference hall, they arrived about forty minutes ago. Initial security scans indicate no armed presences beyond the ones we agreed upon. Everything looks above board for the moment."

"I wish you wouldn't worry so much, but I know better than to expect you not to. They'd have to be crazier than Asmodeus and Frost to attempt any foul play here, even at a secret and unofficial peace talk. If anything happens to me, yes, it'll be a blow for the Alliance, but it'll be the end of them. They're well aware of that, or else I don't think we'd be having the meeting at all. Besides, they were expecting some diplomat, not me personally, and I think it might be hard for even Coordinators to throw together an assassination scheme in only a few hours."

"Our best time for a successful one is slightly over five hours, but that was an easy one, not confronted with all the logistical problems this meeting presents... yes, sorry sir, I'm working, I'm working." Glory said cheerfully, wilting under the stare from Cyprus. "Step this way, Mr. President, and we'll get you, your wife and your kids out into the A-grav nice and quick like."

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"Approaching the target zone. Three minutes to the access point." the pilot of the stolen helicopter reported smartly. Asmodeus flashed a hand sign of recognition, as it was impossible to be heard over the sound of the rotors unless you were either equipped with an intercom like the pilot or were part of a tactical comm network like the Hellhound team was. He pressed a button on his cell phone, transmitting a pre-arranged set of orders to the rest of the Tiamat group, who were approaching New New York City in the group's mobile suits, flying under the water of the harbor area. With any luck at all Frost would continue feeling trustworthy and would act on the orders, but there was no telling with that maverick. Which was why most Tiamat plans tended to be Asmodeus pointing Frost and his pack of BCPU's at the enemy and then going in afterwards to pick up any worthwhile pieces. Despite what the killer insisted, it did remind Asmodeus a lot of the old days... where all the hard work and planning fell to him, while Frost acted as a weapon that Asmodeus directed. Even this masterpieceof a plan didn't actually require Frost and his force to do anything more than cause a big scene and draw attention to themselves, something Asmodeus felt confident even Frost could do without a problem.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus and his handpicked new team of Hellhounds, consisting both of the few remaining Hellhound members that were loyal to him and a large group of the more skilled members of MAGOS, would execute the real mission. Assassinating Sai Argyle wouldn't do much to swing the balance of the war in either direction, but it would do a lot to prolong the war... and it would make both Frost and Asmodeus feel much happier. If in the process of satisfying this desire half the population of New New York City had to die, well then so be it. Asmodeus was thoroughly done with worrying about how his actions made him look to the world, he didn't care if people thought him as evil as Frost... in a lot of ways it was true. The nerve gas he'd managed to acquire from some of his old middle eastern contacts was a nasty bug that rapidly attacked any exposed flesh, dissolving it while simultaneously attacking the nerves controlling the circulatory system, causing wracking muscle contractions and fatal heart attacks within three minutes of first exposure. The aeresol canisters his team carried contained enough to cover an area of more than ten square blocks, and the gas would remain deadly for almost two weeks before dying off.

"Sir, we're getting reports of a disruption down at the dockside area. It looks like Frost and his monsters are getting started." the pilot radioed. Asmodeus signed his acknowledgement again.

"All right, we all know the plan, but I'll recap anyway. We're going to be dropped off on the roof of building X. We will descend through building X as rapidly as possible, hitting any targets of opportunity that present themselves. Casualties are to be maximized, because the more emergency response people we can catch with the gas, the better. The basement of building X contains a portion of the air exchanging system for the governmental bunkers. Group A will hold that location while releasing the gas into the system. Groups B and C will continue on, heading outside and across the street to building Y. The elevators of building Y are one of the access points to the bunker complex. Group B will secure the elevators and hold them while group C enters the complex proper, observing proper CBR (Chemical, Biological, Radiological) warfare precautions. Group C will assist in the distrubution of gas through the complex and will act to confirm the death of the principal target. When death of target is confirmed, groups will extract in reverse order, meeting up outside and heading as a unit to point Z, where the helicopter will be waiting to extract us. Ten minutes after reaching point Z, all remaining gas supplies will be distributed over the city, along with any remaining IED's (Improvised Explosive Devices). Good... LZ in one minute. Be ready."

Precisely fifty four seconds later the helicopter touched down on top of a nondescript office buiding about twenty stories tall. Twenty four men clad in black and red armored jumpsuits swarmed out of the chopper, many lugging large duffel bags and carry cases, along with their firearms and other assorted weapons. Stopping only to mow down two maintenance workers taking a lunch break on the roof, the Tiamat unit was inside the building and pounding noisily down the stairways within fifteen seconds of first touchdown. At each landing a soldier stopped as his comrades hurried past, kicking the door open and hurling a grenade or pipe bomb into the office spaces nearby, following it with a couple of short bursts from his assault rifle, before closing the door and resuming the downward rush. As you might imagine, the shock of the office workers was near total, and casualties were high, both due to the spraying bullets but mostly due to the powerful and well constructed bombs that devastated everything within twenty feet of their landing points, and caused wounds and panic far beyond that. The police were rapidly called, but they were slowed by the need to respond to the full on military engagement that was shaping up in the harbor distict.

Frost in the Fury, along with fifteen assorted BCPU 2's and 3's in Strike Crusaders, exploded from the placid waters of the New New York City harbor with absolutely no warning at all, overturning small pleasure and fishing boats as they came. CIWS chattered and spun, splintering the streets and various dockside structures into gore filled ruins as the busy dockside markets filled with panicking people. Railgun tracers demolished onrushing police cars and other emergency vehicles whole, knocking craters in the streets and blowing holes in various buildings. The Statue of Liberty, rebuilt after being destroyed by terrorists prior to the Reconstruction War, was toppled again when three seperate hyper impulse cannon blasts all but annihilated the lower portion of the monument. Frost sliced and stabbed with his swords, one side of him reveling in the pure chaos of the surprise attack, while the other remained feeling unfufilled by the pointless nature of the killing. It was just killing, and while fun it didn't particularly advance his own goals. Killing Sai was a step in the right direction though, and Frost resigned himself to enjoying pointlesness for a while longer. It didn't take long for the bamboozeled Alliance defenders to respond to the terrorists who had somehow managed to slip through their perimeter, thanks to a few well placed traitors, and soon enough Frost found himself faced with plentiful opponents to wile the time with.

Five police cars screeched to a halt outside the office building Asmodeus and his men had assaulted, the officers inside boiling out and taking cover behind their vehicles with shotguns and pistols raised. It was at about this time that the Hellhounds had reached the ventilation system in the buildings basement and were beginning to insinuate the gas into the system. Groups B and C headed out the lobby and saw the police presence, which was an expected problem. Hellhounds rapidly assembled a trio of RPG launchers, which they used to destroy three of the cars and a recently arriving SWAT van, while sustained automatic fire pinned down the remaining cops long enough for hurled grenades to take care of their involvment. Wasting no time the Hellhounds sprinted across the street, two more RPG's blowing apart cars at either corner, blocking the street with burning debris and human casualties. The soldiers gunned down anyone unfortunate enough to pass into their sights, not caring if it was man, woman or child. They were terrorists, fanatics with a cause, and the deaths of civilians were nothing more than a way to express their ideals to them.

The security detail inside the building that controlled the elevators that accessed a portion of the bunker complex were already rising, weapons in hand, when the Hellhounds stormed the building. Though dressed as security guards, these people were actually regular army soldiers, and were armed and armored as such. The gun fight in the lobby lasted almost a minute before all the guards were hunted down and blown apart, at the cost of two Hellhounds, who were allowed to lay where they fell, as calling cards. Three more minutes passed while the elevator controls were hacked and then group C, along with Asmodeus, continued on alone. While in the elevator they checked each other's uniforms for tightness and coverage, ensuring no bare flesh whatsoever was exposed, as well as checking the sealance of their face masks. Though not afraid to die in whatever manner was necessary to complete the mission, they felt there was no sense in dying to their own poison gas all the same.

Getting out of the elevator was bloody, because the poison gas had not yet reached this part of the complex and the guards had almost five minutes to prepare a welcome for them. Three of the team of eight Hellhounds died in the process of exiting the elevator, one because he shielded Asmodeus from a shotgun blast at close range. The complex security force lost nearly twenty men in that engagement, largely due to the attacking forces willingness to use grenades and other explosive weapons despite the close quarters. Pausing only to perforate ventilation ducts with short bursts of auto fire every fifty feet or so, group C moved rapidly through the bunker complex, following maps of the layout that Asmodeus had reconstructed from memory of his own time there with Cervantes. Whenever they encountered a living body they killed that person, and whenever they passed a doorway they tossed a grenade or other bomb through it, even if it was just a janitors closet. By the time group C reached the outer ring of security around the presidental office, they had already caused mored than seventy casualties. The nerve gas, bypassing the filters in the ventilation system through the bullet holes in the ducting, soon brought the death toll up into the triple digits.

Back on the streets above, group B was faced with the heaviest opposition, since they were already two men down. Still, they possessed two RPG's and a light machine gun, and were not shy about using them. It didn't help the police and Alliance military forces responding to the area that Group A had sent men into the lobby of their own building to stablish a cross fire with group B, and group A had a heavy belt fed machine gun, which was more than capable of penetrating any sort of personnel armor, even the heavy riot gear of the SWAT teams. The Alliance defenders were sent reeling in a rush when group B hosed down the street with their own canisters of gas, and panic began spreading throughout the area as rumors of poison gas flew even faster than the gas itself. Terrible as that was, it still paled into the war zone the dock area had become, with a full on mobile suit engagement between the Dagger JA's and Cavaliers of the Alliance and the BCPU piloted Crusaders of Tiamat. Though flying outdated equipment, the superior skills of the BCPU's, not to mention their willingness to hide behind hostages, combined to wreak a heavy toll on the Alliance pilots, many of whom lived in the area or had family that lived in the area.

Frost himself had claimed the lives of ten pilots within the first few minutes of the opposition arriving. Much as the Crusader's his brethren were piloting were clunky and slow compared to the Dagger JA's and Cavaliers, so too were they slow compared to the Fury. Against a foe designed to overmatch large groups of Coordinator elites by himself, the Alliance pilots had next to no chance against Frost. They couldn't even get close to him before being either blasted or cut to shreds. Determined and coordinated long range volley fire served to at least keep him at bay, even if it was exceedingly hard on the city around them. The first BCPU fell ten minutes into the battle, about the time Asmodeus and group C were exiting the elevator. By the time Asmodeus had reached the outer security ring of the presidential office, two more BCPU's had been destroyed, and a fourth was heavily damaged. Frost paid it no mind... their jobs were to fight and die at his command, and that was all there was to it. He glanced at a timer on one of his screens and slowly began edging further into the city, calling his followers back with him despite their whining protests. He was the only one that could continue supplying them with gamma gliphetim, and they all knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill them besides, if they didn't do what he wanted. And he was in a Gundam, while they had obsolete weapons.

Security was a good deal stiffer on the way into the section of bunkers where the presidents office was. Tough enough that Asmodeus was forced to clear a way through by spraying half of his last canister of gas directly into the faces of the defenders in order to get them to back off. The defenders had started wearing gas masks, but they still had exposed flesh, which proved to be their undoing. Breaching charges soon cleared the locked doors that blocked their way forward and group C continued on their bloody way. They lost a fourth member of their team to an untimely gunshot wound that allowed the gas in the air to enter his bloodstream, Asmodeus blew the mans head off before the pain could really get started. Say what you might about his morals, he still knew how to give mercy when he had to. By the time Asmodeus and group C had finally reached the antechamber to the presidential office, some twenty minutes after they first touched foot to rooftop, he'd lost half his force. That was still within his expected losses figures, but an almost dead part of him gibbered at the thought of telling his bosses about the losses... oh wait, he didn't have any bosses anymore, did he?

A final set of charges and the reinforced steel door to the office was ripped off its hinges in a plume of smoke and sparks. Gunfire blitzed out at them from the security forces inside the office, almost decapitating one of the hellhounds who was slow in ducking back. That left Asmodeus with only two soldiers as backup, but he didn't even consider retreat. This was his How, the When didn't matter. Just about the last thing the security forces expected was a headlong charge, but that was exactly what they got. There were six soldiers inside the office, crouching behind tipped over chairs and snugged into corners of the room. Asmodeus had his pistol in one hand and his sword in the other and he was shouting in a wordless howl of anger and hatred designed to unman and discomfit even the most hardened of enemies. The Hellhound mask didn't help matters, for the defenders. Asmodeus's first shot tore through the back of a chair and splattered the upper torso of one soldier across the wall behind him, two more rounds served to blow the arm off another guard and then explosively eviscerate him moments later. Automatic fire stiched past his head, blowing chunks of plaster out of the reinforced wall before being stopped by the armor plating.

Asmodeus dropped and rolled as his two subordinates hosed the room down with automatic fire, shredding two more soldiers even as one Hellhound dropped, his own chest a bloody ruin. From his position on the floor Asmodeus blew the leg off one of the remaining guards and then blasted four large holes in the presidential desk, hoping to get anybody that might be hiding behind it. The desk, like most things in the office, was armored, but not sufficiently to stop the heavy and powerful rounds of Asmodeus's custom pistol. He was disappointed to see no blood splatter and hear no cry of pain suddenly cut off. Could it be that they'd already evacuated the president? He'd seen no signs of it, and his informants within the complex had given no indication of a VIP movement, besides given a CBR attack the presidential office was the safest place to be, why move into a potentially contaminated area? Security had been exactly what he'd expected it to be if the president was indeed in the office, but there was nowhere else for him to have been hiding. Pistol empty, he holstered it and struggled back to his feet, just as his last ally managed to kill the final soldier in the room, at the cost of a debilitating pair of gunshot wounds to the stomach.

"No sign of the target, sir." the wounded man gasped. "Was our... information... wrong...?" The man slumped against a wall, leaving a bloody streak.

"We had his schedule, so if he's not here that must mean he changed it himself, recently. He couldn't have known about this attack, or none of us would have gotten anywhere close to this far. DAMN IT!" Asmodeus slashed his sword down on the shot torn desk, slicing gashes in the vid screens concealed in the marble. "Defeated by a whim..." Asmodeus sighed in exasperation and then looked at his wounded ally. The man looked back and without saying another word Asmodeus flipped him a bag full of grenades.

"See... you... around... sir..." the wounded Hellhound grated out as Asmodeus headed for the door. "I'll... be... wait..."

"Don't bother. We won't even be on the same level of Hell." Asmodeus retorted over his shoulder, liberally spraying the remains of his gas canister around as he began jogging away from the office. He'd barely gone fifty meters when the sound of a series of explosions resounded through the hallways behind him. One plan down... on to the next...

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"Don't freak out so much, Dearka. I'm sure your dad will be overjoyed to see you." Miriallia endeavored to cheer up her lover, something she never thought she'd have to do. He was just sitting in the back seat of the car next to her, looking as glum as if he'd just been told a favorite pet had died.

"That's cause you don't know his dad." Ysak cut in. "Tad Elsman is... uh... umm... heroically opposed to war in general. A militant pacifist if that makes any sense. When Dearka joined ZAFT, I heard Mr. Elsman had to be admitted to a clinic to treat his apolexy."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying Dearka's discomfiture." Miriallia said, her voice dangerously calm. "But you wouldn't do something so crass as take enjoyment from the worries of your good friend, would you?"

"Of course I would... n't." Ysak replied, after Katie dug her elbow into his side. "I'm just trying to say that you should be ready for some fireworks."

"Don't mind him, he's just a little unhinged because he finally gets to introduce me to his mother, and I'm planning on making it as painful for him as possible." Katie said with a wicked smile. Ysak went a little paler than usual.

"I don't even want to know what you're planning. But if you embarass me in front of my mother, in public, I'll..." Ysak trailed off and just ended up clenching his fists with a serious look on his face.

"You should have seen what happened last time I torqued him up when his mom was around." Dearka said quietly. "I've never seen anyone that mad, not even my parents. All over a little kiss between friends. God, I nearly lost my life that day." Dearka chuckled. Ysak gave him a cold stare.

"You tried to make my mother think I was gay. And then you kissed me, in front of her. What did you THINK I was going to do?" Ysak said witheringly. Dearka just chuckled again and shook his head, though Miriallia was pleased to see he looked less glum now. She herself was having a hard time holding in laughter at the look that must have crossed Ysak's face when Dearka kissed him. Katie, as usual, was less tactful.

"So, is Dearka a better kisser than me, Ysak-y?" She was quick to ask.

"I am not going to be drawn into this conversation."

"Does he use his tongue like I do, Ysak-y?" Katie pressed, enjoying the red color that Ysak was quickly acquiring.

"Depends on how you use your tongue, I guess." Dearka volunteered, actively smiling now.

"You can shut up anytime, Dearka. No... in fact, its too late. You thought what I did to you then was bad... you haven't seen anything yet. You just keep it up, Dearka. Enjoy your last few hours as a man. Because I'm going to fix you like a cat after we get done with these talks." Ysak said slowly and clearly.

"Ha ha. Ha... ha... ha. I think he might actually be serious." Dearka whispered to Miriallia. "He almost put me in the hospital when I kissed him. No joke, he was legitimately enraged."

"I'll protect you, don't worry. Besides, I think he'll forget... you're pretty good at tweaking Ysak, Dearka... but I think Katie will top you. After all, it's not like he's going to put her in the hospital."

"Not till I have his babies anyway."

"GOD DAMN IT, SHUT UP!"

"They sure are noisy back there." Alkire commented, fighting a grin as the rental convertible glided around a bend, following the limo that held Lacus, Kira, Athrun and the other important folks. "Acting like real kids. About time, too." He glanced around at the surprisingly lush countryside. When one thought of Copernicus City, you usually thought of the ultramodern malls and shopping districts it was famed for... but there was a rural side, or as close to rural as you could get in a self contained environment. It was very... quiet, out away from the major population centers, with just the occasional agricultural combine or rich celebrities mansion dotting the terraformed landscape. Well, that and the huge armor-glass lid on the canyon, about a kilometer and a half overhead. "I should get some property out here... this peacefulness is something I need."

"You'd get bored in a week. They don't allow firearms or hunting, not that there's any wildlife to hunt. Also, all the cars are automated, so I don't know why you're pretending to drive. Yes, I like the scenery, and the peace and quiet is nice to visit... but its not us, dear." Raine replied lazily, slouched in the front passenger seat. She stretched her legs again, glad she wasn't forced to sit in the back seat with four rowdy teenagers, like Victor was. Crammed away against the door next to Ysak, sitting as the fifth person on a seat designed for four, the look of misery on Victor's face in her rear view mirror was a cause of much hilarity to Raine. "I think Victor's forswearing children."

"I might too, if my kids turned out like those people. Never seen such a bunch of self righteous, self sacrificing do gooders. If my kids turn out like that, I'll probably die of worry and old age before I'm fifty." Alkire paused a few moments. "I should be so lucky." He added quietly.

"Having kids like them or dying before you turn fifty?"

"Which do you think?" Alkire finally caught sight of the mansion where the meeting was slated to be held. It belonged to someone famous... someone dead, but Alkire couldn't call the name to mind. It didn't really matter... it was a place that was private and neutral to all parties. That's what mattered. His convertible turned off the main road without his guidance and followed the limo up the long driveway. "Stupid automated pieces-o-crap..."

"Looks like the Coordinators are already here." Raine remained slouched, but her keen eyes were rapidly picking out the positions the ZAFT security forces had staked out. "Six... no, eight positions. Single man only. Well within the numbers allowed by the terms of the meeting. Eight to three odds... when did we sign off on this bullshit anyway?"

"Oh, but we got Kira Yamato remember? Ooooo, scariness!" Alkire fluttered his hands like a child imitating a ghost. "They won't dare start anything with him around. Oh wait, he's entirely helpless outside a mobile suit, isn't he..."

"Sarcasm doesn't solve the problem, herr major." Victor piped up. "We may be outnumbered, but these people are not stupid. We're with Lacus Clyne. I'd really like to see a Coordinator point a gun at Lacus Clyne. Just so I could see someone commit suicide, you know."

"I think you may overestimate her impact a little bit..." Raine said with a frown.

"Not after Purgatory Day. I don't know if its possible to overestimate her impact anymore." Victor replied. "Besides... we have plenty of hostages." he flicked his eyes at Ysak and Dearka.

"Yeah, I could see THAT working real well." Alkire didn't even try to hide the sarcasm.

"It's an option."

"If you've been shooting heroin, maybe you might think that. But reasonable people..."

"Now boys, play nice in front of the important politicians." Raine admonished, as the members of the PLANT delegation came out of the manor house to meet the new arrivals. Ezaria Jule, who was a long standing member of the National Defence Committee and a former Radical supporter of Patrick Zala; now a member of the moderate bloc party that controlled the majority of council decisions. Tad Elsman, another long standing councilmember, who'd been a free spirit for as long as he'd been in office, only recently had he added his support to the moderate faction. Eileen Canaver, Supreme Chairwoman of the council and leader of the moderate bloc faction. And finally Orsen White, chairman of the Administrative Committee, the man who was in charge of all domestic matters with the PLANTS. Those four people represented a little more than sixty percent of all the political power in the PLANTS, more if you counted in all the little favors they could call in. Each had brought an aide or assistant, either a trusted advisor or just some flunky that was necessary for their operation as a politician. Raine recognized one Gilbert Durandal, vice-minister of the Interior, one of the most up and coming figures in PLANT politics. If he was here, that meant that even the newer generation of PLANT politicians were invested in these talks, which was a good sign indeed.

Dearka had lost most of the exuberant mood of only a few minutes earlier. It hadn't taken him long to spot his father, and only a few moments more for his father to spot him. The two locked gazes across about forty feet of driveway. Dearka gulped audibly. Miriallia looked at him and then scanned the crowd. It didn't take her long to pick out Tad Elsman. He looked a lot like Dearka, same blond hair, same mediterranean cast to his skin, same lanky build. If not for the beginnings of silver at his temples, and the aristocratic pencil moustaches on his upper lips, Tad Elsman could have been Dearka, fast forwarded about ten years into full adulthood. The two Coordinators just stared at each other, even as everyone else moved forward in greeting. Miriallia prodded Dearka in the side. "See, nothing to worry about. I must say, your father is a very distinguished looking man. I hadn't thought that would be in your genes, given how you usually act."

"Please... don't make jokes like that if he can hear you." Dearka pleaded in a low voice. "My father's degree of specialization is in Biochemistry... he's leading the efforts to resolve the whole 2nd generation and later Coordinator issue. He's very uptight about genetics. Like Ysak with a stick up his ass, but worse."

"Well, we're not making any progress just standing here looking at him. Lets go meet him, eh?" Miriallia pulled at Dearka, who reluctantly started forward with her, though he moved like he was wading through chest deep water. At length they had managed to close to within easy speaking distance of Mr. Elsman, who had done nothing but stand and stare at Dearka with an unreadably calm expression on his face that had Dearka positively shivering.

"Uh... hey, Dad. Long time, no see." Dearka managed weakly, not quite looking his father in the eye anymore. He couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. Miriallia was concerned... this wasn't how the Dearka she knew acted.

"Dearka... your mother and I were very pleased when we heard you'd left the ZAFT forces." Tad Elsman eyed his wayward son and chose his words carefully. "But becoming a traitor to ZAFT was not the way to go about it!" he forced his voice to remain low, not wanting to cause a scene before the extremely delicate peace talks even got underway. His teeth were clenched so hard he was sure he'd need some reconstructive dental surgery at a later time. "Boy, you don't know how much trouble you've caused for your mother and I..."

"I think what you meant to say and couldn't find the words for was... "I'm glad to see you're alive and well, Dearka"." Miriallia interrupted. "Maybe... "Your Mother and I were worried half to death about you", but that might be assuming too much on my part. You know, just going by my experience for what parents usually say to children they haven't seen in years."

"Who are you, anyway?" Tad Elsman was somewhat taken aback by the imperious tone the teenage girl had taken with him. Things were not done this way in the Elsman household, where children were taught to respect their elders, not talk back to them.

"My name is Miriallia Haww. I'm a citizen of Orb, and I'm a Natural. I'm also Dearka's girlfriend and co-pilot, thank you very much for your courtesy in asking." Miriallia replied primly. There was a glacial silence, and she could almost hear Mr. Elsman's eyes swivel to look back at Dearka.

"I... see. And when exactly were you planning on updating us as to this information, Dearka?" Tad Elsman asked, fighting to hold back his anger. It wasn't that he had anything against Naturals... he just couldn't see the point of engaging in romantic follies with one. Not when there were plenty of intelligent and beautiful Coordinator girls that were desperate to marry an heir to one of the Supreme Council members. Girls that wouldn't get sick and die while their husband was still in his eighties, fit and full of life. Couldn't his rebellious son see that? Or was he really that lacking in elementary planning?

"Not that it's all that much of your business anyway, Dad." Dearka retorted with a bit of the fire he usually had. "I mean, you pretty much tossed me out of the house and out of the family after I joined ZAFT. Why do you care who I associate with?"

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I'm still your father and you will give me the respect I deserve. I don't know what you've been up to for these past few years, but whatever it is, it doesn't give you the license to cop an attitude with me. Now, I'm trying to be calm here, but you insist on always pushing my buttons. Why can't you be like your sisters!?"

_Dearka has sisters? He never said anything about sisters._ Miriallia was momentarily wrongfooted. _Though I can see why he didn't talk about his parents. What an arrogant ass._ "Probably because he's a guy. Guy's have that rebellious streak in them, you know, no matter how much you tinker with their genes." the witticism slipped out before she could stop it. The look of dismay on Dearka's face was hilarious and she couldn't help a chuckle or two. The dark brown flush covering Mr. Elsman's face was even funnier, though she knew that she was poking a sleeping bear. Still, she didn't back down. She wasn't going to let this puffed up stiff necked bastard put the scary adult treatment on her, though obviously Dearka had been conditioned into it during his upbringing.

"So this is the sort of company you choose to surround yourself with." Tad Elsman said slowly, moments from exploding into one of his infamous rages. Tad Elsman was widely known as a calm and reasonable man, until you started disrespecting him. Then he turned into a volcano.

"Hello, Mr. Elsman. It's been a long time. How are things on Feburarius?" Lacus suddenly appeared next to them, a pleasant smile on her face and her hand extended in greeting. "I really hate to break up your reunion with your son, but the other delegates and myself are going to be moving into the conference room now and we'd like you to join us." Kira stood a few steps behind Lacus, not saying anything, but a quick look showed Tad Elsman that what Lacus said was indeed true as the other members of the delegation, as well as the other Clyne Faction delegates, were all headed back inside. His anger receeded as suddenly as a switch being thrown.

"Of course, Ms. Clyne. It's good to see you again as well. Hopefully you can come and visit us again on Feburarius soon, perhaps after we've attended to this matter here?" Mr. Elsman walked away with Kira and Lacus, leaving Dearka standing there shaking and Miriallia still stifling a chuckle now and again.

"Do... do you think... that... that Lacus..." Dearka gestured vaguely towards his head.

"I have no way of knowing. Its possible though, considering how fast he switched to nice guy mode. Maybe thats just something politicians can do though. Are you arguing?" Miriallia replied at length.

"No, come to think of it. Damn Mir, I warned you about the genetics jokes."

"Oh be quiet. I wasn't going to just sit there and let him bully you. He may be your father, and it is always harder for children to stand up to their parents, but really... you don't need shit like that. I can see why you didn't go home all this time. But what was that about sisters now...?"

"Oh crap..."

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Just as Dearka was going through an uncomfortable reunion a few meters away, so too was Ysak dealing with sudden tides of embarrassment and an inability to know what to say. He'd always gotten along very well with his mother, since she'd been the only parent he'd ever known, since his father had died in an accident only a few months after Ysak was born. His mother had never remarried, never really even pursued another relationship, throwing her efforts into her job and into nuturing him, in her spare time, which had resulted in her skyrocketing career from a low level aide to a Supreme Council member. Ysak's eye twitched ever so slightly as he recalled a brief aside his mother had said to him while he was stationed on Jacin Due. He'd asked her about how she was doing, and was expecting the same placitudes and other day to day info that question usually got him. He hadn't expected her to tell him she was starting to fall for a man, who just happened to be Patrick Zala. She hadn't seemed conzigant to his horrified expression, going on to tell him that she was starting to feel a mutual attraction between her and her political ally, the then PLANT Supreme Chairman. It was just in the beginning stages, neither of them had any time for serious romance with a war on... but after the war was over...

Fortunately that had never gone anywhere past idle thoughts in his mother's mind. Maybe uncharitable of him to be glad for the death of someone else's parent, but it was bad enough being around Athrun as a rival and sometime comrade. Ysak would not have been able to stand him as a step brother. End of story, one of them would have mysteriously died during the night, or had a training accident of some sort. Not that he particularly hated Athrun, most of the time... he just rubbed Ysak the wrong way. Sibling rivalry was one thing, but what he and Athrun had was a little more vehement than that. Living together would not have helped matters. Even now the image gave him chills, and he gave a prayer of thanks that fate had seen fit to spare him that torture. But that was only one of many thoughts that crossed Ysak's mind as his mother came down the stairs towards him, her stern political mask cracking just slightly to allow her that smile, the special smile she always reserved for him when she saw him again after they'd been apart for a while. It always made him feel reassured.

"You're such a cute mama's boy." Katie whispered in his ear. He snapped his mental focus back to the here and now, feeling the odd sensation of her mental presence receeding from his mind somewhat as he brought up the so called "shields" she'd taught him to use to keep his thoughts to himself. It was a constant pain remembering to discipline his mind in order to keep the shields up, and as a consequence they often slipped when he was thinking serious thoughts, or like now when he got lost in memory. "Every time you try and act like a tough guy, I'm gonna play that memory back for you and remind you what a cuddly little teddy bear you are..."

"Do what you want. Just don't..." Ysak hissed back.

"Embarrass you in front of your mother, yes, Ysak." Katie replied casually, slipping an arm around his waist in a companionable fashion. She felt him go nearly as stiff as a board under the light, non-sensual touch. _Though that won't be easy when you freak out at every little thing. Come on, Ysak-y, we've done much more than just put our arms around each other in public before... why all the tension now?_

"This is my MOTHER!" Ysak enunciated slowly and clearly, if very quietly, as if speaking to a retarded person.

_Who you wrote letters to asking for romantic advice when it came time for intimacy. Well, intimacy has come and gone, Ysak-y, so I don't see why you're twigging out._

_I... am... not... twigging... out._ Ysak managed to keep that communication totally mental in nature, something of an accomplishment for him. "There's a difference between letters and face to face." he added, hastily shutting up as Ezalia closed to easy speaking range.

"Don't mind me, Ysak. You can keep muttering your sweet nothings to your girlfriend. I've got plenty of time, both now and after the meeting. It does your mother's heart good to see you in such an obviously cherished relationship." Ezalia said lightly, her smile widening just fractionally as she saw the flush spreading across Ysak's face. The fraction withdrew when she noticed how the flush was making the scar across his face stand out even more lividly than usual... she'd hoped he would have reached closure on that problem and had it removed but that didn't seem to be the case. "It's good to see you again, in the flesh and blood, not just those fussy old letters."

"Mother..." Ysak seemed, as usual when he was around her in public, especially when she displayed affection for him, lost for words. Still, he was quick to step forward away from his girlfriend and give her a firm hug. Ezalia blinked the moisture away from the corners of her eyes... there would be a time for tears and other strong emotions later, but right before important peace talks was not that time. "I missed you."

"Me too." Ezalia fought the quaver in her voice. Bad enough, it had been, during the last war, with Ysak gone most of the time on missions of one sort or another... but he'd still almost always been within calling distance. She could at least look at him and speak face to face, even if they were thousands of miles apart if not farther. But it had grown much worse after Jachin Due. ZAFT and the PLANTS were in chaos, protesters and rioters were clogging the streets, calling for the impeachment of the Supreme Council members who'd ordained the use of GENESIS, and the general backlash against the military, exemplified in the so called war crimes of certain individuals... like Rau Le Creusete, or even Ysak Joule.

It hadn't been easy, not at all, but she'd managed to persevere through it, knowing Ysak was safe if largely out of touch aboard the Archangel. Then had come the new war, and she'd stopped even receiving letters from him for months on end, with no way of knowing if he was alive or dead. Several times she glimpsed a mobile suit that looked much like the Duel in the intelligence reports that were shown to the supreme council, but that was hardly enough to tell if he was okay. And now here he was, alive and whole, healthy looking, slightly taller than the last time she'd seen him, with a confident and self assured pose he'd lacked before. He'd gone and matured again.

"You should have called and... no, you couldn't have, or you would have, right?" Ezalia said, releasing him from the embrace and inspecting him at arms length. "Look at you. Almost a centimeter taller and a few well muscled pounds heavier. And that stance... my, my where did my ego-centeric red-coat son go, anyway?"

"Mother..." the growled tone of exasperation made her smile again. Physical changes not withstanding, some things didn't change, or changed extremely slowly. He still had trouble dealing with affection in public. The Joule family had their pride, they certainly did. Just like his father.

"Well, don't just stand there, introduce us already. You've spoken about your friends so much in your letters, and two of them in particular, I'm very anxious to meet these girls you asked for advice from me for." Ezalia looked pointedly over his shoulder at the tall, slim girl with the raven wing black hair with blond highlights standing a pace behind Ysak, who he'd been whispering quite intently to while she'd approached them.

"Oh... yes. Mother, this is Katie Belaruse. Katie, this is my mother, Ezalia Joule." Ysak managed weakly. The two women stared at each other, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Almost simultaneously they reached out to shake hands. Ezalia noticed that the girl had a very firm handshake, very military actually. Well, far be it from her to question her son's taste in women... it was actually very little surrpise, given the regimented nature of his upbringing, that he would be attracted to another person who fought.

"I'm pleased to meet you Ezalia. Or should I call you..."

"Ezalia is fine, there will be more than enough formality for everyone when the Earth Alliance Delegation arrives. Besides, anyone who could have trapped my Ysak in a serious relationship, despite all the effort he used to put into avoiding them, is definitely someone who I should be on a first name basis with. Though pardon me for asking, but Ysak's letters mentioned twin sisters... is your sister off on some other..." Ezalia trailed off as she saw the look of pain and tragedy that crossed Katie's face for a moment. "Oh, my dear... I'm so sorry, I spoke without thinking..."

"You couldn't have known." Katie replied after a few seconds. Ezalia marveled at how steady the girl's voice was, despite the pain still apparent in her eyes. "But yes... Chanel is no longer with us. She was... killed in action... several months ago. There's a story behind it, but we'll get into that later, when we have time and a more private location." There was another several second pause. "So what did you tell Ysak in your reply letters anyway? He wouldn't tell me."

Ezalia blinked at the sudden change of conversation, but then realized that Katie probably didn't want to dwell on painful memories any more than Ezalia herself did. A sidelong glance at the tortured look on her son's face was more than enough to convince her that a change of topic was a very good idea. Clearly this story behind the death of Chanel was extremely traumatic for Ysak. "You mean when he asked me for... intimate... advice? I'll grant you I was rather surprised, but I suppose it's only a natural consequence of the blinkered social life he forced himself to lead. I hope you've been able to help him with that."

"Mother..." this time Ysak's voice had a note of pleading in it. Katie gave him a positively wicked smile and stepped over to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace before he could slip away. Ezalia expected her son freeze up like a corpse with rigor mortis, or else try and escape, firmly if politely. The only person who could touch him in public was her, anyone else got a harsh rebuttal, even friends. He did neither, though he did give a brief sigh of mixed frustration and resignation. He then returned the embrace in kind, and even initiated a kiss. Ezalia blinked, not sure she'd seen that right. Ysak, starting a kiss by himself. Part of her was shocked, another part was proud and a third part slightly envious. _Oh, you really need to find a boyfriend Ezalia, when you get jealous of your own children._

_Do your worst... you think you can tweak me up with a hug and a kiss? I'm not that Ysak anymore, dear-heart._ Ysak thought smugly, even triumphantly, loudly enough that Katie was sure to hear him.

_Did I just hear that right... did you actually just challenge me... Ysak-y?_ Katie's reply was slow and measured. Ysak quickly realized he'd made a blunder. Sure, he'd managed to dodge Katie's attempt to needle him in front ofhis mother by turning it around on her. But gloating about it had been an unwise decision. _Boy, you don't even know yet..._ the promise in that thoughtline made him start to sweat. Katie broke the kiss and looked over at Ysak's mother, who was watching them with a slightly bemused expression. "Pardon me if I offend any of your sensibilities, Ezalia, but your son really needs to learn to keep his thoughts to himself." The expression of puzzlement on Ezalia's face only grew at that rather cryptic phrase, but Katie didn't mind. No one would believe in Newtype powers without either experiencing them or some other sort of proof, so there was no harm in dropping a hint every now and then. She was just about to make Ysak-y regret ever dreaming he could get the upper hand in their one-upmanship game, when a sudden storm of sour emotion jerked her head around and made her lose her train of thought.

_Mr. Elsman is well known for his rather fiery temper._ Lacus observed to her. Katie glanced over at the knot of council members clustered around Lacus and Kira. _I had hoped he and Dearka would have been able to patch things up, but I seem to have underestimated the degree of antipathy between them. Athrun had told me once, back when he was still in ZAFT and still my fiancee, that Dearka was estranged with his family, but I had no ida it was anything this confrontational._

_Mir's probably not helping matters along too much. She's not the type to stand for someone getting pushed around, maybe even especially by their own family. And while she's certainly more polite than Cagalli or I am when we get angry, she's... not nearly as tactful as you. Not that I can really remember seeing you mad too often..._

_You don't want to see me mad. Especially not these days. I'm actually afraid to get truly angry... I don't know what I might end up doing to people inadvertantly. Especially people like Kira and Ysak and maybe even you..._

_Well, try not to worry yourself too much about it. Getting mad is part of life... keeping yourself from getting angry isn't healthy. And if a consequence of you getting torqued up is discomfort for me and Ysak and Kira... well, I'm sure you know that we'd forgive you. Even Ysak, once he grew the stones to talk to you firmly._ Katie was monitoring the emotional state of Mr. Elsman even as she talked with Lacus. Their conversation had taken up only a second or a little more. Katie was in no way as attuned to the emotions of other people like Lacus could be, since her talents lay more in communication than mental influence, but even she could feel the tension gathering in the mental space tht Mr. Elsman occupied. He was going to flip out, and soon, and it would be ugly. Lacus was already in motion, heading over to the scene of the confrontation at a brisk walk, even as the Clyne Faction and PLANT delegations started moving inside the mansion to wait more comfortably for the arrival of the Earth Alliance ambassadors. Katie saw Lacus greet Mr. Elsman, who whipped his head around, the fury still more than evident on his face. There was a sudden... implosion was perhaps the best way to describe it... in the mental fabric that occuied the space of Mr. Elsman's mind. Katie gasped involuntarily and winced.

When she opened her eyes less than a second later, Mr. Elsman was talking pleasantly with Lacus, and all his anger was gone. Flat out gone, like it had never been there. It wasn't under control, or supressed or being dealt with by some coping strategy... it was gone, like an emotional faucet had been suddely turned off. Mr. Elsman had been about to cause the scene of the decade one second, and the next he was conversing with Lacus like he hadn't a care in the world. It was difficult to get a sense for his thoughts, since he was a Stump, but Katie exerted herself and couldn't even find a trace of angry thoughts. As far as she could tell, he didn't even remember being angry, much less why he was breathing so hard and sweating in the first place. Stuff like that did not happen... even sudden blows to the head causing unconsciousness and memory loss didn't cause an emotional transition THAT rapid and total. Katie was both impressed and frightened.

_Damn girl... I thought you were the one that was adamantly against influencing people at all costs... you're gonna have to show me how you pulled that one off..._ Katie sent to Lacus. The moment she touched minds she felt the fear, shock and anger inhabiting Lacus's thoughts, which turned rapidly to just fear and shock.

_I thought that was you... I was about to give you more than a small piece of my mind, after we agreed NOT to influence people for good or ill... _Lacus replied. _That wasn't you?_

_I WISH! No way I have the kind of juice to just banish an emotional buildup like that. Maybe, if I practised for a long time, and was very lucky and I was working on Ysak... maybe. Not to a Stump I never met before on a whim!_ Katie let a few thoughts percolate to the surface of her private mind. Her unease grew exponentially. _But if it wasn't you... and it wasn't me... and it sure as hell wasn't natural..._ Katie suddenly unshielded her mind and cast her perceptions out, mental "eyes" darting this way and that, searching frantically for another Newtype. There was nothing... after almost five seconds, during which a wincing Ysak was prodding at her to tell him just what was going on... she reached the end of her range. She couldn't see any Newtypes within seven hundred meters, besides herself, Lacus, Kira and Ysak. _We need to be very careful..._ Katie thought, sharing it with not only Lacus but Ysak and Kira as well, as they all started heading inside.

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"Well now, this is quite interesting..." Noah muttered, studying the Clyne Faction delegation from an upper story window of the mansion proper. He'd known about Lacus Clyne of course, having felt her power during the broadcasts on Purgatory Day... but she wasn't the only one like him in that group. No, the one known as Kira Yamato, and the one known as Ysak Joule... both of them had minds almost painfully open to his talents. It was hard restraining himself from reaching out and conducting a few experiments with them, but he really didn't want to tip his hand to Lacus or the girl with black and blond hair who was so desperately trying to find him right now. He could feel her, rippling the thought-space with her efforts, her mental gaze like a flashlight beam probing the shadows. If he'd merely been shielding his mind she probably would have found him... she was skilled and experienced, if not overly powerful. Quite how he knew her mental strength he did not know... but he could tell just from looking at her that she was no match for him, not by a significant margin.

But he wasn't just shielding... no, he was using a method of his own devising, not so much minimizing and focusing his mental presence to a point where it was impossible to detect as just bending thought-space around his mind so that even when she looked right at him, she was actually looking past him, seeing either empty space or even a Stump mind from one of the other people nearby. It wasn't easy... doing it took a lot of concentration, even more when he had allowed himself a moment of vanity in showing off his ability by calming Tad Elsman... he would need a lot of rest in an hour or two... but it allowed him the option of observing in almost total safety while still being able to use his own powers. "That put you on your guard, yes it did. You're both going to be afraid to use your powers too openly now."

Noah turned away from the window as both delegation parties entered the mansion and headed for the conference room, pausing only to grab a refreshment or a quick bathroom break on the way. He could barely sense their minds... concealing himself from them necessarily obfuscated them from him. It was frustrating, like walking around with a blindfold half over his eyes, but it was a neccessary evil at this stage in the game. Eventually there would come a time when he'd be able to come near them in his full glory, but that time would not arrive for years, at least if everything went according to plan. And there was no reason it shouldn't. But he did have to be careful... too heavy a hand in the early stages could make things much more difficult later on. Noah looked up and contemplated the man standing at the door, ensuring Noah was not bothered. "You... will stay here and you will let no one... especially from the Clyne Faction, see you. Is that understood?"

"It's going to make it very hard to protect you if you go wandering around while I'm hiding in this room." Michael Genesis replied sourly. "Your father would not be happy if something happened to you."

"Never mind my father. I'm the person giving you orders now." Noah gritted his teeth from the effort as he blasted his bodyguard with his will, renewing the mental bonds that he'd been sinking into the man's psyche for some time now. Noah gave a vindictive little twist at the end that brought a memory from the man's past life briefly spinning up into his forebrain, before Noah banished it back into the void of the subconscious.

"Murrue... wait... what was I saying?" Michael mumbled.

"Nothing important. Stay here and stay out of sight. I'm going to need a place to rest in an hour or so, less if you keep being bullheaded."

"Don't worry about it, kiddo. When you're your age, you'll have plenty of energy again in no time. I'll guard the fort, don't worry. Just try not to get lost or anything. Have a sandwhich and a glass of milk or something, I'm sure Mr. Durandal can help you if you won't let me." Michael said with paternal concern. He failed to note the angry twitching of Noah's lips..

"You're lucky I need you eventually. I hate being treated like a little kid."

"But face it, kiddo... you are a little kid. Least until you hit puberty anyway. Aww, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, forgive me, pal?"

"Count slowly. Resist the temptation. He's more useful if he isn't a vegetable. Count slowly..." Noah whispered to himself, letting himself out into the hall and closing the door after him. He had to reach up to do it... being ten was such a bother.

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"Looks clear." Ramierez reported, scanning the villa and the surrounding areas with a pair of high powered binoculars. With him in the car were two other members of the First Family security detail, dressed in the forbidding dark suits and the standard dark sunglasses. Though Ramierez scorned the inscrutable secret service image, he had to admit it did have its pyschological uses, especially when dealing with politicians. Nothing said "VIP" like a big limo and a squad of FAGGs (FAceless Government Goons). Still, his sunglasses were mirrored, not matte dark, and were of a slightly more fashionable rimless style than the stodgy government issue square lenses. Not to say his weren't just as high tech though, if not more so. EFSOU and by extension the Hellhounds, had gotten first crack at a lot of very expensive tech, and even though EFSOU was now dissolved along with the formal Hellhound unit, many of those perks remained in place.

"Details." the calm and dry voice of the Lieutenant never failed to send chills through Ramierez. Not bad chills, or even good chills... just a few brief shivers, the sort of feeling you get when meeting someone and realizing that they are entirely out of your league, powerful beyond your understanding and knowledgable about every mystery you could think of. Ramierz hadn't been speaking to either of the other two members of the advance unit, but had been reporting to Cyprus and Glory in the presidential limo. Combined with 3 more agents in the rearguard vehicle, they formed the entirety of the security force for this mission. Having only eight agents made none of the security specialists happy, but it was the politicians calling the shots for this game, so they did they best they could.

"I make five exterior posts and three interior. No sign of extra personnel. Three rent-a-limos for the PLANT delegation, plus one more and a convertible, probably from the Clyne Faction. Everyone looks to be inside the house, and the ZAFT exterior security has sighted us, just like you asked." Ramierez smiled, hearing the sound of a baby crying in the background of the comm line. Sounded like Matthias, by the volume. He was a loud one, that nino. As one of the principle and senior agents in the Presidential Security unit, Ramierez was directly in charge of the First Lady's fasty on a day to day basis, except during missions like this, so that meant he was around the presidential chidren all the time too. They were as familiar to him as they were to Vanai, and just as dear to his heart. Ramierez was still reasonably young, not much past twenty seven, and quite single... but that didn't mean he didn't have hopes for the future, especially with peace finally looking promising. If even Ashino could find a girl, prospects were high for a latino powerhouse like himself.

"Acknowledged. Begin initial deployment. We'll be moving in five, arriving in six." The Lieutenant signed off, cutting off the displeased warble of Matthias in mid wail. Without saying a word, Ramierez stowed the binoculars and punched the ignition for the car, allowing it to resume its pre-programmed course. Automated cars creeped him out, but all vehicle transportation was like this on the Moon and in most colonies. It was supposed to be safer and undoubtedly it did cut down on the number of accidents by a large margin... but to an Earthling it was entirely unnatural, just letting the car move by itself. He did not converse with the other two agents in the car with him... one because they were on a mission and small talk was a needless distraction and two because they weren't Hellhounds. Former Hellhounds, Ramierez reminded himself. But they were still "outsiders", though Ramierez knew he wasn't supposed to think about them like that.

It was hard not to though. The Presidential Security unit had been put together from the AFSS and EFSS (Atlantic and Eurasian Federation Secret Service, respectively) units, as well as the few remaining Hellhounds that had survived the assault by MAGOS. Everybody was a professional, at the top of their game, highly trained, highly skilled and exceptionally motivated. But there were still the Hellhounds, and the not-Hellhounds. The soldiers and the suits, as Glory had been brash enough to comment one night after a few hours on the town. For all their skill and training and experience... Ramierez still couldn't help but feel the Secret Service guys just didn't quite make the cut. They hadn't been handpicked by the Lieutenant, hadn't fought by his side and under his command... hadn't done the missions or put in the time to be real comrades of his. Ramierez knew the Lieutenant was aware of this sentiment amongst his men and that he would undoubtedly take steps to ensure it didn't become an operational liability, but that would take time. Ramierez devoutly hoped they would have that time, because right now he wasn't one hundred precent sure of the men supporting him and that was not a position he wanted to be in.

Still, he trusted them enough to know they'd do their jobs for a simple diplomatic escort duty. The car rolled to a stop and he quickly stepped out in the driveway of the villa, one of several that had formerly been owned by Lucian O'Halley, one of the people who'd been in charge of the construction of Copernicus City and a famous figure in the early stages of space colonization. Not only had O'Halley done extensive work with designing the lunar habitats, he'd also helped design several colonies, including the Mendel colony and parts of the Orb resource colony Heliopolis. Such work had made him an extremely wealthy man, though he had died childless and alone several years before the first war began and now his property was largely either public domain or, like this house, a private museum and monument to one of the pioneer's of the space frontier. But while past history was all very interesting, it didn't have much to do with the here and now, other than the museum was operated by a neutral third party that had agreed to lease it for these unofficial talks on short notice.

Ramierez exchanged cool nods with the two members of the ZAFT security team who had left their posts to come observe their counterparts from the Alliance as they arrived. The ZAFT soldiers both wore FAGG suits of their own, dark grey sports jackets and slacks over either a pale green shirt or a deep crimson shirt, the symbolism of which wasn't too hard to figure out. The PLANTS didn't have any civilian security forces worth the name, so these guys were undoubtedly actual ZAFT soldiers, probably front line veterans rotated around to the HDF (Home Defense Force) as a sort of rest duty. The ZAFT men wore their weapons, likely pistols or machine pistols, in either back or underarm holsters, the bulges of the weapons were tastefully hard to detect by a casual glance but to a trained eye they were quite obvious, much the same as the weapons Ramierez and his own agents wore were. The ZAFT soldiers made no hostile actions of any sort, just stood on the steps leading up to the main entrance to the house and watched as Ramierez and his two agents got out of their car and gave the driveway area an inspection.

No words were spoken by either party... what did soldiers really have to say to each other, when on opposing sides, anyway? And until these talks ended in formal peace, on opposing sides they would remain. Even so, Ramierez couldn't help but feel slightly... awkward... when he looked at the ZAFT soldiers. He felt like he should maybe offer an apology to them, for having been a member of the forces that had undoubtedly plunged the world into war, while at the same time his years of training to regard all Coordinators as the enemy almost made him want to start a confrontation right then and there. He settled for just doing his job, investigating the driveway area and the outer surfaces of the buildings around it for any signs of bombs, ambushes or traps. There were none, the place was clean. Just as he'd expected, but it never hurt to be entirely sure, even when dealing with the PLANTS, who tended to be far more scrupulously honest in their political dealings than Earth goverments did.

Several minutes into the inspection, Ramierez became aware of a new observer. He looked up, glanced away and then almost sprained a neck muscle looking back again. The woman dressed in the casual-formal slacks and shirt wasn't just an aide from the PLANT delegation, she was Raine Belaruse, of the mercenary group TEMPEST. Ramierez had crossed paths with Belaruse and the other members of TEMPEST several times during his career, both as allies and more recently as enemies. The fight in the subway tunnels of Orb, where two of her teammates had bought it at the hands of the Hellhounds and their allies flashed into Ramierez's head, but Belaruse seemed to be keeping her professional face on, because she merely gave him a slight nod. He chuffed a slight sigh of relief... while Vladimir aka Andre Forkav had been the most frightening member of TEMPEST, it still never paid to have a sniper feeling ill towards you, especially not a marksman of Belaruse's caliber.

"Be advised, TEMPEST is on the premesis." Ramierez spoke into his collar microphone. He made no real move to hide his actions, since it would have been futile anyway and probably counterproductive as well. Though the Clyne Faction was attending the talks under Sai's good graces, whether they knew it or not, there was no sense in antagonizing people as accomplished and potentially volatile as them... unless it became absolutely necessary.

"Understood. Proceeding as before." The Lieutenant replied without hesitation. Ramierez eyed Belaruse for a few moments, and she eyed him back. The FAGGs just sort of looked past her, seeing at most a female security agent or armed aide of some sort, dismissing her as the lesser threat vs the Coordinators, as for himself Ramierez wasn't at all sure that was the right way of thinking. Some Naturals were every bit as scary if not scarier than even ZAFT redcoats or the legendary members of FAITH... he certainly considered himself and the other members of the Hellhounds to be such. They were still eying each other when the Isolationist limousine eeled into the driveway and rolled to a stately stop. This time it was Belaruse's turn to speak into a collar mic.


	89. The Isolation, Threatening

"The Isolationist delegation has arrived." Ezalia informed the other PLANT representatives, holding a hand unconsciously to the microbud transmitter in her earring. As the representative from the military committee, she'd been placed in default command of the security forces as a matter of course. Realizing what she was doing she quickly dropped her hand back to her side, but she didn't fool herself into thinking she'd gone unnoticed... her son and his girlfriend both were far too sharp to not notice a lapse like that, not that it really mattered but still... she was getting sloppy. Too much frustration and stress... she'd thought the last war was bad, but only the hysteria of the time right up to and including Jachin Due was anything close to the way things had been ever since the failed invasion of this very Moon. A further comm from the security forces outside caused her eyes to widen considerably. "Repeat that again!?"

"What is it, Ezalia?" Eileen Canaver asked, a hint of concern worming through her otherwise composed political poker face. Personally the de facto Chairwoman of the PLANT Supreme Council was cheered immensely to see the daughter of her dear friend Siegel Clyne present, still so obviously full of determination to make a difference in making the world a better, more peaceful place in the finest traditions of diplomacy... but even that wasn't enough to entirely lift the feelings of imminent doom pressing down on her. It had not been a smooth and easy or short tenure of office for her, much to her personal chagrin. All she'd wanted to do was prevent Patrick Zala from committing genocide, and then hold together an interim government until a proper series of successors could be chosen, but things hadn't worked out that way at all, had they?

"I think I can tell you, Mrs. Chairwoman." Lacus spoke up from her seat across the roughly circular table from Eileen. The table seated twelve, as the proposal had indicated four members at most from each concerned side should attended. While neither the PLANTS nor the Isolationist government really considered the Clyne Faction a "side", both superpowers were fully expecting them to show up anyway, with mixed feelings. Eileen and Ezalia were relieved, Tad Elsman and Orsen White distrustful, while the Isolationist party was more than likely to just ignore them as much as possible. But at least they were there. "President Argyle is here in person."

"He's what!?" Tad Elsman leaned forward suddenly, his eyes intense.

"Sai doesn't govern like previous members of the Earth Alliance... he's a very hands on leader." Kira answered. "Don't lump him into the standard mould for Alliance leadership, for your own sakes." Kira was sitting in the chair closest to the PLANT delegation, as far as he could physically be from the seats for the Alliance delegation. He was pretty sure he and Sai could keep their differences under wraps for the duration of the meeting, but he saw no reason to provoke matters by sitting in close proximity to him either. To his left was Lacus, and then Athrun and then Ms. Murrue, sitting across from Eileen Canvar, Ezalia Joule and Orsen White respectively, while Mr. Elsman was sitting "next" to Kira, if by close to four feet away around the curve of the table could be considered "next to". The PLANT delegation aides and supporters clustered against the wall behind their councilmembers, while the other members of the Clyne Faction did likewise on their own wall.

Sai didn't keep them waiting long. Within less than a minute the double doors leading into the room swung open and two men stepped through. Neither were instantly familiar to anyone currently in the room... the one on the right was tall and of medium build, with close cropped prematurely grey hair, while the one on the left was short and more muscular, with the complexion and black hair of someone from the Latin America's. Both were dressed in the standard suit and ties of government security... FAGG suits as Katie had called them scornfully... but there was nothing particularly amusing about either of these two men. After a few seconds of looking at the grey haired man Ysak stiffened. "It's the guy from the church... the one who tossed me like a pokerchip..." Ysak muttured sourly. Katie meanwhile was sharing a brief shocked raised eyebrow with Lacus... the man on the left was plainly visible to them from all perspectives, but the grey haired man on the right was only there to their physical senses. It was very disconcerting for Lacus, and not much less for Katie... she remembered that Asmodeus had been like this too. Smoothly, with entirely military precision, the two bodyguards stepped to the side of the doors.

Sai's grand entrance was... both not nearly as grand as some had been expecting and far more grand that was entirely proper for modern diplomatic convention. He swept into the room at the head of his delegation, which consisted of only three other people... his wife Vanai and their two baby children. There was no fanfare of trumpets or wordy announcement like some had feared, but it wasn't exactly the done thing to bring your wife and kids to a high level diplomatic event, especially if you didn't bring any other advisors... it smacked of despotism or feudal monarchy. These days a leader had advisors for everything, and almost all important decision were at least looked over by a group of people, if not an entire wing of government, before a call was made either way. Showing up with just guards and family to a peace conference to determine the fate of the world... it was like saying that he didn't care what everyone else in his government thought, that he was the only one with the power to make any important decisions... and having that much power concentrated in the hands of one person was extremely dangerous, history had proven time and again.

Sai nodded when he saw who was in the room, his gaze passing over both the Clyne Faction and PLANT delegations coolly and evenly... though Kira noticed a definite tensing of jaw muscles when his eyes met Sai's for a brief moment. However, there was nothing more than that and Kira breathed a small sigh of relief as Sai's gaze swept on to Mr. Elsman. Sai was apparently willing to set their personal differences aside as well, that was a very good thing, at least for the context of the meeting. Sai made no greetings, merely nodded once his inspection of the room was complete and then pulled out a chair for himself and his wife in the middle of the section for the Alliance party and sat down. Eileen froze halfway to her feet, wrongfooted by the whole entrance, which was abrupt to the point of rudeness. It was common to rise, mouth a few greetings, shake a few hands, get introductions going and a little small talk besides... that was how informal negotiations were conducted. She'd expected it to be at least an hour or two of beating around the bush with diplomatic red tape before anything of substance was brought up... but then again she'd expected to be dealing with diplomats, not a nineteen year old President.

"You're the ones who asked for a informal meeting to discuss a cease fire and perhaps a longer lasting peace beyond that." Sai said into the shocked silence. "I'm here and listening." He looked around the table again. "I see that you're all somewhat shocked by my manners. That is unfortunate, but if you wanted me to act like a diplomat, make this official and I'll be glad to bow and scrape to the diplomatic code of conduct, but I thought we were here to **TALK**, not play word games over tea and biscuits."

"You're very direct." Orsen White commented, looking uncomfortable. This sort of confrontational leadership style was familiar to him... it was how Patrick Zala had acted in the bad few weeks before GENESIS. Not a good image to parallel too. "But we can handle direct, if that's how you want to play it." The trick was not to let on that you were off guard, even if they knew you were anyway. He was a politician with a multi-decade long career... he wasn't going to be intimidated by some kid half his age.

"It is. Given the rather eleventh hour nature of these talks... something that is entirely your fault... I figured you wouldn't want to waste time on pleasantries." Sai steepled his fingers on the table in front of him. He set out no documents, carried no folders or even a personal computer. "You have roughly twenty hours and thirty seven minutes until the end of my grace period and you lose your terrestrial holdings, which I clearly outlined and published both in the news and online. I have been nothing but open and clear about my intentions for the past three months and you have done nothing but ignore me. So pardon me if I'm less than sympathetic to you now that you finally realize I am serious and have been all along."

"Your Isolation plan is frankly obscene and unworkable." Ezalia retorted. So the kid wanted to ride roughshod over the diplomatic code... she could handle that. He wanted direct... no one could be as direct as a Joule. "Total trade and diplomatic separation between the PLANTS and the Earth is not only impossible, it is insane. The PLANTS were never designed to be fully independent of Earth's food supplies, despite the steps we have taken to increase our own self reliance. Likewise, the entire reason the PLANTS were built in the first place was to serve as a manufacturing base for materials and products that could not be produced on Earth. While we relish autonomy from the economic sanctions and tithes our former sponsor governments placed upon us, we have never desired to cease trade altogether... merely pursue it under our own terms. To cease trade altogether would destroy our entire economy and lead to a breakdown of our entire nation as well as the deaths of millions of innocent people from starvation and privation."

"Provisions have been made to provide food and other vital supplies to the PLANTS for a year or more after the Isolation is enacted." Sai replied calmly, unflinching in the face of her criticism.

"Though their offer is appreciated, Orb can barely support itself right now, much less us as well!" Mr. Elsman jumped in. "And so far, Orb is the only nation that has pledged to support that ammendment to your so called plan and they were the ones that negotiated its inclusion in the first place!"

"I am very sorry you feel that way, but as a national as well as world leader, I have to put my own people first." Sai replied. "I have already spent... wasted many say... billions of dollars providing recompensation for Coordinator families to extradite back to the PLANTS, and I plan to spend billions more in that area as well, until every last Coordinator has left Earth. I have been more than generous in my offers of aid to any nation..." Sai glanced at Athrun in his Orb Representative's outfit. "... that requires it. I have institued a three month cease fire and grace period that you all have spent rebuilding your armed forces, instead of focusing on solving the problems you're complaining about now."

"Easy for you to say... you have a world with massive amounts of food, water and living space, not to mention free air and a host of other comforts not available to us in space." Ezalia replied harshly. "Building more agricultural colonies is not a process for months... maybe, just maybe, in a decade or so, we might be able to start planting crops on newly constructed colonies that would render us minimally self sufficient... but thats no garuantee, given that with the loss of Junius Seven and the damage to Junius Six we've lost almost an ninth of our home grown agricultural production."

"I cannot provide food support for a decade. I cannot allow for more than two years further contact between Coordinators and Naturals at the absolute limit, and so far I haven't heard any compelling arguments for extending my deadlines past its current date." Sai answered.

"Can you perhaps explain again your reasoning behind this... separation policy...?" Eileen asked slowly, trying to hide her dismay at the uncompromising nature of the Isolationist leader.

"It's rather simple." Sai replied. "Naturals and Coordinators do not get along. It's a proven fact that when one group of people is thought to be more special or advantaged or just different than another group of people and both groups live intermingled or in close proximity... violence is always the result. Always. It's a part of human nature, sad though that is. I'm not saying Coordinators are at fault... in fact its almost one hundred percent true that both these wars were entirely the fault of us Naturals. Because, by and large, the average Natural is jealous of Coordinators. Because you are smarter... you live longer and healthier... you're stronger, faster, tougher... capable of going further and accomplishing more than any Natural, even if they work just as hard as you. Generally speaking anyway, there are always some exceptions to any rule. And jealousy leads to discontent, which leads to anger, which leads to action... and thus the continuing cycle of violence we've been in ever since George Glenn left for Saturn."

"But wouldn't you say that the problem isn't that Coordinators are inherently better at everything than Naturals... just that that false conception, widely promulgated, has yet to be properly refuted?" Lacus spoke up. It was hard, she couldn't get a real sense for how everyone else was feeling... though it wasn't too hard to guess how the PLANT councilmembers were taking Sai's announcements just by looking at them... with her Newtype senses almost shut down in caution. There was still the question of the unknown Newtype that had so dramatically affected Mr. Elsman, and both she and Katie were extremely reluctant to extend themselves too openly... if the Newtype could have such an affect on a Stump, there was no telling what they could do to a fellow Active or a Latent. "Everyone here knows that I am undeniably a Coordinator, but that simple fact of genetics doesn't make me inherently better than you except in a few areas, President Argyle, just as you yourself have skills and abilities in other areas which far exceed my own."

"Putting aside the question of abilities and skills, lets talk inherent natures." Vanai spoke up, a kid on each knee, both babies staring at the crowd of new people with delight plain on their faces. "You're all first or second generation Coordinators... how many of you were sick as babies? How many Coordinator infants die from SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) or other birth related problems? How long can you all expect to live and stay active? One hundred years? One hundred twenty? More? Even with the top of the line medical care I can afford, in all likelyhood I won't live to see one hundred... and you all will still be running marathons then."

"Well, that's what Coordinators are... humans genetically enhanced to live longer, happier, better lives, from infancy to seniority. The process doesn't always work out as planned, but by and large the traits and skills and abilities of the parents are passed on to their progeny with a high degree of accuracy." Mr. Elsman retorted. "I'd hate to sound like an arrogant ass, but I just don't see why people DON'T want to advantage their children by making them Coordinators... who doesn't want a better future for their children?"

"Not everyone is as advantaged as you are. In fact, the greater majority of people on Earth aren't. Creating Coordinators is not an especially difficult process... but its not free either. It's against the religious views of others, and some people just don't want to go to the hassle. For some it's a tradition, or a family more, or accidental. There are as many different reasons for not wanting Coordinator children as there are people to think of them." Sai replied. "And of course, I do still want a better future for my children, and all children, both Natural and Coordinator. That's why I've instituted the Isolation Plan." Sai paused a moment to stare around the table again. "It's not for us. Not for our generation. I know it's going to be hard for everyone from my generation and older... even tragic in a lot of cases. But the world for our children, and our childrens children and so forth down the line... that is the bright and peaceful world that my Plan ensures."

"I still don't see how you can square sacrificing millions of innocent lives in starvation riots with bringing an eventual peaceful world, of which there is no set garuantee." Athrun cut in. "Both Cagalli and I have been over your Plan word by word, and though we were glad to see you flex on a few points, there are quite a few more that we're still strongly against. The forceful relocation of Coordinators from their homes... it reminds me of what the Nazi's did in the early stages of the 20th century to their Jewish population."

"I'm not sending them to death camps or forcing them to leave uncompensated..." Sai started to protest. Athrun held up a hand to stop him.

"You are sending them up to an environment that doesn't have the space or the resources to facilitate their presence, where a great many of them will probably end up dying from starvation if the food supplies... already strained from the damage to Junius and the attacks on Australia... dry up. It may not be a death camp with barbed wire and poison gas chambers, but the effect is the same." Athrun said forcefully. "Not even mentioning the ethics of thinking money can compensate for sundering people from friends, family and the life and happiness they have living where they are now."

"And even if you manage to enforce and implement your Plan, what garuantee does anyone have that your political predecessors will be of the mind to hold to your promises?" Eileen pointed out. "We could end the war here and now, ignoring any of the problems we've already brought up, and then two, four or however many years down the line when a Hawkish President takes over the Atlantic Federation or Eurasian Federation, get attacked again, using the very forces you propose be built up as peacekeepers. Politics is an ever changing gameboard... what is certain and irrefutable now might not be so after a change of leadership..."

"Don't presume to lecture me just because I'm not a fortysomething career politician." Sai cut in icily. "I'm well aware of the realities of politics and changes in policy after a change in leadership. Thats why I intend to make the far greater portion of the peacekeepers entirely NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) based, so that the ever changing tides of politics cannot affect them."

"I think we might be straying from the heart of the issue here, and letting ourselves get too far bogged down in details." Lacus said, coughing politely a few times to draw attention to herself. "This conference is about finding out if a cease fire and subsequent peace negotiations can be started, is it not? I suggest we resolve that issue first, before anything else. This war is not something either Naturals or Coordinators desires, am I right?"

"I know I'm heartily sick of it." Kira hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud until he saw everyone shoot him a glance. He flushed slightly and then shrugged... might as well say a piece while he had the floor. "Pretty much everyone here knows who I am, and knows about the somewhat unique perspective I've had on both wars, being a Coordinator that fought against ZAFT at first. Everyone has lost friends, family and more to these wars... and yet they keep continuing on anyway, despite how sick everyone is of them. This is probably not a surprise to anyone, but I agree with Lacus... I think that if the problem of the ignorance of just what a Coordinator is that most Naturals have could be educated away then both sides could live in peace. Sure, there will always be those who, even with education, refuse to accept that Coordinators or Naturals are not necessarily better or worse... just different... but that's why we have criminal justice systems."

"More of your "People are not defined by abilities alone" ideology, Kira?" Sai spoke up. "Don't get me wrong, I think its a very good way of thinking... its just I don't think the average joe or jane on the streets will buy it. It may be true, but in popular culture for centuries now... people ARE defined by their abilities, or are perceived to be, which amounts to the same thing."

"Well, just saying its pointless to try without even trying doesn't help much either, Sai." Kira retorted. "Look at Orb... before the Alliance invaded, Coordinators and Naturals co-existed...maybe not in perfect harmony but certainly without violence and rampant prejudice."

"And look at what their tolerance has bought them, time and again. Orb has been invaded and sacked how many times in the past few years? Two... Three? Yes, do look at Orb. That wreckage is exactly what the entire world will look like if we don't enact the Isolation Plan." Sai replied firmly. He looked directly at Lacus. "You want to talk peace, that is fine with me. Here are the terms. Cease all hostile action immediately, withdraw all your troops and material from Earth within the next two weeks. Fully comply with the terms of the Isolation Plan. If you meet those terms, I garuantee peace."

"Agreeing to the Isolation Plan is entirely out of the question." Eileen answered equally firmly. "We will gladly accept a cease fire and a mutual standown of our active military forces, and we would dearly love to pursue an active mutual disarmament plan. We're even willing to discuss possible war reparations."

"That is Orb's stance as well." Athrun added with a nod at Canaver and the other PLANT delegates. "Minus the war reparations."

"You people really don't seem to understand your situation completely, do you?" Sai seemed thoughtful for a moment. He sighed and shook his head. "Very well, I wanted to be polite about this, but you don't leave me any choice. My terms are not negotiable. I'm not a political dealer, I have no interest in further compromise. I've told you what you need to do to bring peace, and I've gone out of my way to make things easy for you people, but this is the line in the sand. The Isolation Plan WILL commence in a little more than twenty hours, come hell or high water. If you don't want to leave peacefully, I WILL deport you by force. I have the forces to do it, you know that."

"You can't be so inflexible..." Lacus started to protest. Sai pounded his fist into the table to interrupt her.

"I have been the defintion of flexible and I won't bend any further. You should be glad I let you speak at this meeting at all, because the Clyne Faction certainly isn't recognized as a legitimate political state by my government, and I haven't heard the PLANTS make a declaration either way on the subject. You are rogues and deserters from both sides, pursuing your own agenda's with your own means... I was willing to extend the olive branch and work with you if you would work with me, but if you cannot meet my terms then I am very sorry but I cannot see a reason to listen to you any further."

"We came here to negotiate... not surrender to terms." Ezalia spoke up, fuming. "You are right... currently you do have a military advantage over us. But just because you have the might does not give you the right to dictate unconditional terms to us. We are not defeated and we have NOT surrendered. You claim to be different from the Alliance leaders in the past, but you still spout the same nonsense, when it comes down to it!"

"You attacked Orb twice without provocation, and committed atrocites during both occupations. You blame us for the state our nation is in, when it is your fault in the first place. Not only that but you threaten to attack us again, to enforce a dictate that is entirely unconstitutional in Orb, which, whether you currently choose to recognize it or not, is a soveriegn nation!" Athrun was almost on his feet he was so furious. And he wasn't even born an Orb citizen. It was a damn good thing Cagalli wasn't here... a fistfight would already be in progress at the very least.

"It's not the ideal world... to make an omelette you have to break some eggs. And Orb is one of those eggs. To ensure a peaceful future for all mankind, Natural and Coordinator, if you cannot work with me willingly, then I will force you to." Sai said flatly. "I cannot allow compromise... any compromise in the Isolation Plan beyond what it already has will render it useless and the wars will continue, year after year, generation after generation, until one side or the other is entirely annihilated... or more likely still, we wipe each other out. At all costs, I cannot allow that to happen while I have to power to stop it. Why am I the only one here who can see that?"

_Is he being goaded... are we all being goaded... everyone is so angry so fast..._ Lacus thought furiously. _Who's out there!? Who are you!? What do you think you're doing!? Stop this manipulation at once! This is our last chance to stop this war diplomatically! Don't you care... this war affects you too!?_

_Who are you talking to?_ Katie asked, even as she cautiously probed again... she and Lacus and Kira and Ysak were still the only Newtypes she could detect within her range. She didn't feel like her emotions were being controlled or influenced... but someone had calmed Mr. Elsman, and it hadn't been her or Lacus. _Is anyone out there? Hello? We aren't your enemy._ For an instant she got the feeling someone was watching her, like she was being observed from the other side of a one way mirror... but then the sensation was gone like it'd never been.

"I think these negotiations are over." Eileen Canaver stood gracefully. "We came here with the intention of forging the beginnings of peace between our two peoples... not listen to the ravings of a child who refuses to accept any vision but his own. Your Isolation Plan is illegal, unethical and frankly impossible, from our persepective. No Coordinator with a shred of common decency could ever acquise to such a thing, especially not if they have responsibilty for our people as a whole. I don't look forward to the time, twenty something hours from now, when you enact your so called plan... but neither do I look away. We are ready for you and we will not go down without a fight if you think you can force us to do your will so easily." She turned to look at Lacus. "Ms. Clyne, I deeply appreciate your efforts in bringing these talks together and you have my deepest personal sympathies. But the PLANTS cannot deal with the Isolationist government peacefully as long as it maintains this stance."

"I cannot blame you for coming to that decision, Chairwoman Canaver." Lacus replied. It wasn't easy holding back the tears of frustration and disappointment and even fear. It was even harder to keep from unintentionally broadcasting those feelings... certainly Kira picked up on them, from the concern and anger plain on his face and the steely look in his eyes when he contemplated Sai, who just stared back quietly.

"Mr. Zala... Zala-Attha, excuse me." Eileen continued, looking at Arthun. "I must also extend to you our most sincere thanks for Orb's courageous and selfless support in this issue, despite the cold shoulder my government has been giving you. I cannot say this officially, but I will do whatever I can to get the PLANTS to recognize Orb once more, as is its right. We cannot offer more than that though, in these trying times." Eileen didn't care that Sai could hear her... he probably knew just as well as her what dire straights ZAFT was in... it was one of the reasons he felt he could be so demanding, obviously. With those words she bowed once, formally to both Athrun and Lacus, then marched from the room with her delegation behind her, ignoring Sai.

"I suppose you're rather angry with me now, aren't you Kira?" Sai said, as the PLANT delegation filed out. He maintained his gaze lock with Kira. He'd had a lot of practice in gaze games, dealing with Cervantes, Asmodeus and Cyprus for as long as he had. Once, the sight of the naked dislike on his former friend's face would have been so painful to him that he wouldn't have been able to bear it for more than a few moments... but that time was long past. He let the almost palapable anger and frustration from Kira just flow right through him like it wasn't there at all. "That's too bad... I was hoping I'd be able to catch up with you a little after we agreed to work together again, but I guess it didn't work out that way, did it?"

"Sai... how could you..." Kira started to say. Sai cut him off with a derisive snort.

"Don't preach at me, Kira, you remember what happened last time. Your way is very virtuous, very courageous and very admirable. It's also impossibly unrealistic, especially for a world leader in my position. No... my way is harsh, but it's the best path open to us now. Don't worry, I'm not like Azrael or Cervantes... my troops already have orders to minimize casualties to the maximum extent... I feel the same way about that as you and Lacus do. I don't like unnessecary killing and I will not condone it in my military."

"Sai, you can't think that you're just going to walk all over ZAFT, even with your current numerical advantages. Carpentaria has survived everything the Alliance has thrown at it for almost three years of solid war, including a massed nuclear attack. I've looked at your task force strengths, and I just don't see the reason for your confidence." Murrue spoke up, her eyes downcast, as if unwilling to look at her former subordinate.

"Numbers are no longer our only advantage." Sai replied with a small smile. "I won't fool myself... Carpentaria will be a tough nut to crack, but with the forces I have allocated to it, victory should be accomplished within a day. I have a ninety percent certainty on that. Afterwards, that task force will be reinforced and resupplied, then it will come to Orb. From the moment that task force opens communications with your wife, Athrun, you will have precisely twelve hours to surrender and comply. No more. This is your only warning."

"Her reply will be the one you are expecting, President Argyle." Athrun retorted coldly. "Neither of us responds well to threats, or to being messed with by meglomaniacal fanatics. I can assure you, Orb will resist you to the last, even in our current weakened state. We will not abandon the rights of our people, never again."

"Very well... now that we've finished threatening each other, lets move..." Sai was interrupted by Cyprus laying a hand on his shoulder and leaning down, after receiving an urgent communication several minutes before, during the heated heart of the negotiations. "Yes, Cyprus?"

"Report, sir. Tiamat attack. They hit New New York City, sir." Cyprus replied shortly.

"What!?"

"Just a few minutes ago sir. It was a decapitation attack... they were after you. They broke into the governmental complex from one of the secondary access points and nerve gassed the entire area."

"Nerve gas!?" Murrue asked, her eyes wide in horror.

"Indeed." Cyprus nodded once. "Casualties are high, and the gas has a long lifetime, so we will not be returning to that particular complex for several years. A seperate but likely related attack was launched on the harbor area by the Fury and the Tiamat mobile suit company. Damage there is also severe."

"Damn it, Asmodeus... you just can't sit quietly in your grave can you!?" Sai gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. "Why can't you see that your time on the stage is over, and has been since you surrendered to me? It is the obligation of the defeated to stay that way, at least for a few years!" Sai calmed himself and looked up at his friend and guard. "We had no warning of the attack?"

"This is a man who taught me much of what I know, sir." Cyprus replied levelly, in a way a more solid reply than any other confirmation. "And given the failure of this attack, there will be others, in the future."

"Well... I'd hoped to spend some time with my old comrades, even if they do despise me currently, but once again, needs must. Earth needs me, so I must bid you all farewell, much as you may not believe that I have your best interests at heart. I daresay the next time we talk will be sometime after my task forces reaches Orb waters." Sai looked down and away for a moment as he rose to his feet. "Do try... not to end up dead." With those parting words Sai turned around and stalked out of the room, Vanai on his heels shooting a venemous glance over her shoulder at Lacus and Kira and Athrun and as many other Coordinators as she could pick out as she did so.

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"Well, that hardly required my touch at all. What a wonderfully confrontational man." Noah muttured under his breath as he watched Sai Argyle and the rest of his rather small delegation re-enter their limousines and drive away. Eileen Canaver and Orson White had already left as well along with a security detachment and much of the rest of the PLANTS delegation. Ezalia Joule and Tad Elsman had predictably remained behind, obviously still interested in re-bonding with their children amongst the Clyne Faction. "Of course he's delusional, but in a charming manner. It's too bad he's a Natural, he could have been very interesting to work with. He certainly has no trouble seeing the big picture, even when most everyone else can barely think past their own noses."

"Formed an impression on you did he?" Gilbert Durandel said suddenly from a few steps behind him. Noah had to fight the urge to jump... his Newtype senses were still in lockdown to avoid detection from the Clyne Faction Newtypes, and as a result his own situational awareness was much more limited than usual. Being forced to rely on the standard five senses was so bothersome. "He's not an easy man to influence... he combines teenage stubbornness with crusading idealism and national pride. It is not a favorable combination for a politician." Durandel sounded mildly disdainful, but of course Noah could not currently tell for sure, which was another annoyance.

"I suppose you'd prefer someone like Lacus Clyne or Ambassador Zala-Attha?" Noah replied, not bothering to turn and look at the man. He couldn't let on that he was currently at a severe disadvantage... without his powers he was being forced to rely on his own expansive mind, which though powerful was only keeping him even with Durandel's decades of extra experience.

"They are less than optimal as well, but if forced to pick, yes, definitely. All three of them, including Representative Zala-Attha as well... teenagers should not be political leaders. It only causes problems. They just don't have the necessary perspective in time and experience."

"President Argyle seems to have quite a long term perspective to me." Noah replied neutrally, fishing for an opinion.

"That is the impression he was trying to give, but I don't believe it. At most he is thinking a decade or two into the future... if instituted his Plan will have reprecussions felt for centuries. I cannot condone a leader who fails to understand the full ramifications of his plans... he has to go. And so do I, my car is leaving shortly. I will talk to you again, I am sure." Durandel nodded curtly and left.

_Well, that cinches that then. Durandel will never go along with my own plans, if he's against something that has ramifications only a few centuries long. He'd never go for something that will change humanity for all of time. Nothing less than expected. But he is right... Sai Argyle does have to go. I'll have to put some thought into it..._

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"Ysak..." Ezalia trailed off, her voice choking as she struggled to regain her equanamity of mind after the unexpectedly short and confrontational peace talks... though they really hadn't been all that peaceful, had they? A part of her mind was already working on what sort of report she'd have to give the other members of the National Defense Committee, and the ZAFT High Command. President Argyle seemed supremely confident in the ability of his forces to handily overwhelm the remaining ZAFT terrestrial forces... and though she knew that was a political ploy amongst other things, she had to admit she had a fissure of doubt as to the ability of the bases to hold out, isolated as they were from each other and meaningful support from the homeland. After all, the Alliance had shown a distressing amount of technological progress in their war machines during the lunar invasion, and they still retained their vast numerical superiority and industrial capacity advantages. Maybe they would have to bring Operation Overload back up for debate once more.

"Mother." Ysak stepped forward and embraced her, something more that was unusual for him. He was growing up so much, and all while she was away from him. She'd thought she'd gotten over the fledgling leaving the nest nostalgia after he'd joined ZAFT, but apparently it was back with a bit of a vengeance. She wanted to tell him to come back with her, that she would smooth over the problems ZAFT high command had with his insubordination, that they would go back to being the happy family they had always been... but she knew that was nonsense. Much as she didn't want it to be that way, Ysak had his own life now, was walking his own path. He had his friends and the people he obviously cared a great deal about, and she could not ask him to leave that behind for her, especially when she couldn't give him any garuantee's at all about what would happen if and when he did return to the PLANTS. She felt her eyes tearing up just a bit as she hugged her son for all she was worth.

"I'm so proud of you, Ysak. I'm always so proud of you. Don't you ever forget that." Ezalia said quietly. "I know you have to go back with the Clyne Faction. Back with the friends and comrades you've risked your life to be with this entire bloody war."

"Friends and comrades might be going a bit far in some cases." Ysak rolled his eyes at Athrun, standing with Kira, Lacus and Alkire by the limo. "But I've learned to be tolerant of the annoying nature of my co-workers."

"Curse of the Joule's... we're always working with frustrating people." Ezalia managed a slight smile. Her eyes fell on Katie, who was not quite not watching Ysak say his goodbye. "She seems like a good girl. Lots of depth of character. She's a Natural then? Not that it matters, there are plenty of good Naturals."

"Sometimes she makes me wonder, but yes, she's a Natural. A very frightening one. I wish I had time to sit down with you and her and get the whole story out, but there just isn't the time. You need to get back to the PLANTS, I need to return to the Archangel. Both of us are going to be fighting our respective fights rather sooner than we'd been hoping for." Ysak slowly released his mother from the hug. As he did so she surprised him by reaching up and touching a finger to the scar still crossing his face.

"Haven't you worn it long enough?" Ezalia asked. She wasn't expecting to get a smile from her son, but that is indeed what she received. He gently touched his own fingers to the scar as well.

"There are some flaws it better suits me to hold onto, rather than deny they ever happened. Originally I kept this scar to remind me of someone I promised to kill, but that is no longer the reason it's there. Now, like any number of other mementos, this mark on my face is just one more reminder that I have more than myself to be concerned about." Ysak replied. "Maybe after this war is done for good... but its somehow managed to become quite a part of me."

"So you have found closure... that's all I was worried about. Keeping the mark physically never bothered me... I'm extremely happy to see you moving past the emotional mark the injury left as well." Ezalia stepped back a pace. "And now we both have to go our superate ways again. Do try and keep in touch, Ysak. I love you very much, that will never change. And I'm sure your father would be at least as proud of you as I am."

"I love you too, mother. I will come back to the PLANTS after this war is done. There is no other home for me. Thank you for understanding." Ysak said quietly, brushing a well of moisture in his own eyes away with a quick flick of his hands. With no further words between them, they both turned to go their seperate ways, much more at ease with the world than before the meeting, even considering the events that occured.

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"Dearka, hold on a moment." Tad Elsman reached out his hand to grab his son by the shoulder, but stopped well short when he saw the barely perceptible flinch. That tiny gesture, probably not even visible to a non-Coordinator, was still enough to feel like a punch in the gut to the councilman. Physical discipline had never been used in the Elsman household, though his children frequently complained that the verbal battering their father and mother used was worse than a few whacks on the ass with a rod. But still, to actually have his son flinch from his touch... well, Tad was no more immune to guilt than any other man. "I need to talk to you before you leave."

"Sure thing, Dad." Dearka sounded pleasant enough as he turned, but Tad was no fool. He could almost feel the dread with which his son regarded any sort of personal consultation with his parents, and well should he considering the massive divergence in philosophies between parents and child ever since he joined ZAFT after the Bloody Valentine tragedy. Tad knew that he and his wife were being perhaps too controlling in demanding that their son not do his part to defend his nation in a time of need, but he couldn't help himself at times. People died in wars, lots of people. Pacifistic ideology aside, Tad loved his son far too much to just let him go off to the front lines, where he could be killed at any time. He used to live in dread of the phone and email, always expecting any government correspondence to contain a so called black card... one of the mass produced condolences ZAFT sent out to the family and friends of the deceased. Things hadn't gotten any easier when he'd learned of Dearka's capture by the Alliance, if anything that had been worse because he no longer was sure he'd even get any notice at all if his son died.

"I... may have been overly harsh... earlier." Mr. Elsman said slowly, uncomfortable. He could count the number of times he'd been forced to apologize to oe of his children because he'd been legitimately wrong on one hand. Apology didn't come naturally to his fiery nature, which of course had contributed in large part to the rift between him and his son. Things had been said, on that morning Dearka had first packed up and run away to the ZAFT academies, that Mr. Elsman still deeply regretted, almost two and a half years later. "Please try to understand... your mother and I view fighting in wars to be abhorrent and wrong, but it isn't our place to force our ideals on you, I realize that now. And despite the fact that I'm still furious at you for running away and joining the military against my wishes... I can understand why you did so. Your mother and I love you so much, Dearka..." Mr. Elsman fought down a hitch in his voice. "... please try not to let what we said forever change your relationship with us."

"Dad..." Dearka wasn't quite sure what to say. His father didn't apologize to people. It just didn't happen, in Dearka's experience. His father was either right, or partially right. Never wrong. Yet now... "I can't forgive you just like that. And now really isn't the time or the place. But after this war is over, one way or another... I think I'm ready to have a family again."

"That's all I needed to hear." Mr. Elsman regained his composure. He extended his hand. "I would tell you to be careful, but I'm pretty sure you know how to do that better than I do. Good luck in your... endeavors." Mr. Elsman had been about to say fights, but he wasn't able to force out what was to him one of the dirtiest words imaginable.

Dearka regarded his father's extended hand with a neutral expression for several seconds, then tenatively reached out his hand to shake with his father. "Thank's, Dad. You too. I'm not sure which of us needs it more, at this point. Say hi to mom and the girls for me. I'm still thinking of you all, don't you ever doubt it." They shook up and down once, and then let go. Standard business handshake. But it was a start.

"One more thing." Mr. Elsman said as he turned to head to his limo. "Your girlfriend... Mirialla, right? Could you remind her that jokes about genetics..."

"I already did, Dad. That one just slipped out in the heat of the moment, something I think we're both familiar with."

"Ah. Quite. Well, in that case, good day, son."

"See you around, Dad."

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"How much time?" Eric Kellson tried for bored nonchalance. He was pretty sure he failed at that worse than he usually failed most grammer tests in high school, but it never hurt to try. He was currently standing on the maintenance catwalk outside the cockpit of his Templar unit, deep within the bowels of the _Victorious_. The other pilots of the 71st Special Mobile Squadron stood nearby, with their own Templar's being situated either port or forward or aft of Eric's. Like him they were all dressed in the darker navy blue and black flight suits of Isolationist Elite pilots, vs the lighter blue and white or orange and white suits of the regular pilots.

"Less than ten minutes, sir." First Lieutenant Hendricks said, clearly fighting his own case of the nerves. Unlike Eric, none of the other four members of the 71st SMS had yet seen actual combat. They'd all graduated in the top 50 percent of their class at both the Alliance Mobile Training School and the more advanced Flight Specialist Unit Program, where they'd been taught to fly the complex and powerful Templar units, besides just Cavaliars, Cataphracts and Dagger JA's. But training simulations could only carry you so far, though Eric did have to admit the new simms were a lot more accurate in all respects than the ones he'd initially trained on. "Still no signs of stand down at Carpentaria." Hendricks was staring at a handheld vidscreen hooked into the shipwide data net.

"Try and relax people, even Elementals aren't a match for a Templar, technologically speaking." Eric tried to do some morale boosting, though he was leaving a couple things unsaid.

"Technologically speaking, sure." First Lieutenant Kissinger, one of a relatively small number of female mobile suit pilots, spoke up. "But these are battle hardened veteran Coordinators we're talking about. Redcoats even! Don't get me wrong, Captain Kellson, sir, I do have confidence in my own abilities... but these people are GOOD, capital underlined letters GOOD."

"And so are all of you." Ashino stepped around a corner, attired in his own flight suit, which was solid white except for a black helmet, a color scheme that matched that of both the Bane and the Independence. The pilots all snapped to attention and threw stiff salutes, which Ashino waved away. He still didn't like being saluted, it felt wrong to him. "All of you are graduates of a program even some Coordinators would not be able to pass. Bear that in mind, while dealing with the jitters."

"Aren't you nervous at all, sir?" Hendricks asked. He was the newest to the unit, though they were all extremely new anyway. He was unused to the sight of Supreme Commander Ashino just stopping casually by for a chat. Hell, for that matter he was still in awe of Captain Kellson, one of the most decorated mobile suits aces in the entire Alliance. Rumour said the Supreme Commander was dating Captain Kellson's sister, and that was the reason he got all the awards, but Hendricks didn't believe that anymore, not now that he'd simmed with the Captain. Hendricks was pretty hotshot, but Captain Kellson was just fucking good. Though it had been a surprise to learn that the Supreme Commander really was dating his sister, even if they weren't supposed to talk about it like that with Ashino around.

"Nervousness was never a part of my post battle emotional allocation. You could say I am almost entirely unable to be nervous about fighting. If only that were true for other walks of life... no, maybe not." Ashino, as usual when he made a comment about himself, managed to confuse pretty much everyone but Eric or another of his close friends. "Just stick together and play to the strengths of the Templars and I'm sure you will all acquit yourselves in an exemplarly fashion. Don't try to be a hero, or win the battle all by yourselves. It is the duty of soldiers to fight for their country, but dying for your country is both wasteful and stupid, unless there is no other choice."

"I think that goes for you too, sir." Eric piped up. He heard the intake of breath from the other four pilots, but they didn't know Ashino like he did. Hell, he still wasn't sure he really "knew" Ashino, but he'd talked with Jean a bit and made some of his own observations as well, ever since he'd apparently been appointed unofficial aide to the Supreme Commander. Ashino didn't play favorites cause Jean was Eric's sister... but Jean WAS Eric's sister. "All of us got some sort of life to get back to after this is all over, you included."

"Point taken." Ashino acknowledged. He knew Eric was right... of all of them, Ashino was probably the most prone to less than rational behavior, at least in regard to preserving his own life. Just one more side effect of being a BCPU. "We'll be going in with the second wave. We'll be securing a landing zone for the Archmage and Cataphract units, and then proceeding to the front to seek out and neutralize the enemy command unit as quickly as possible."

"Aye, sir. So they won't do this the easy way then?" Eric asked. Some pilots would have been put out, since being assigned to guard a big time commander usually meant staying away from danger and having any real effect on the course of a battle. Of course it was the opposite with Ashino... Eric's fingers twitched, because now he was sure they were going to be in the absolute middle of the battle.

"It is my understanding that the PLANTS official and unofficial stance amounts to: Screw you and your plan, if you want us come get us, unfortunately." Ashino answered. An alarm pinged at his wrist. "That's the five minute warning. Mount up, and after we launch form up on the Independence. Good luck to you all, I look forward to fighting alongside you to win this battle, and advance the cause of peace one more step."

"SIR!" They snapped salutes again, as he ambled back the way he came.

"Now thats a fucking badass guy right there." Kissinger commented, after Ashino meandered out of view.

"No doubt." Eric smiled, debating if he should tell her that Ashino could still easily hear them. He decided to save it for the moment. "Like the man said, mount up and good luck people." Eric put action to words, feeling the ship shudder slightly under his feet as he started to climb into his Templar. That would be the undersea elements of the first wave being launched, the new Devilfish class underwater mobile armors.

Isolationist scientists had considered the problem of ZAFT's underwater superiority. Regular attack submarines just couldn't cut it against machines like the Goohns and Zno's, with their far superior speed and maneuverability, not even considering the new Water Elementals. But designing a new class of mobile suits to operate specifically underwater would take a great deal more time and effort than the Isolationists could afford, since most of their mobile suit designs stemmed in some fashion from the Strike, which was not designed at all for underwater combat. In the end, they had decided instead to descend from the Moebius mobile armor design, and thus the Devilfish Undersea Mobile Armor had finally resulted. More like a subsurface fighter jet than a submarine, a Devilfish was shaped like an elongated speartip six meters long and a little more than three wide at its widest point. Pyramidal in cross section, the nose of the machine came to a sharp point, and four large fins covered the first meter and a half of the nose, one on each side of the nose, with additional wing like structures near the aft end of the mobile armor.

Devilfish were propelled by water jet propulsors, far more powerful versions of the same devices that personal pleasure watercraft used. Flat out, a Devilfish could hit more than ninety knots (more than 100mph) at test depth, which was more than four hundred meters. Maneuverability was only average, but the machines were well armored and as safe as they could be reasonably made, compelte with a workable ejection system. They were single pilot affairs, which was just as well... with the weapons and engine systems, there wasn't all that much room left for the pilot. Each Devilfish mounted four forward firing and two rear firing 330mm torpedo launchers, as well as a dual 155mm railgun turret on the dorsal surface. Beam weapons didn't work underwater, but railguns and other munition based systems worked just fine. Finally, each Devilfish carried three 3250mm rocket propelled ship killing torpedos on an external ventral surface rack. Though in limited supply, each of the massive torpedos was a garuanteed kill of a mobile suit or ship up to cruiser size, assuming it hit. Finally, the nose and forward fins were extensivley reinforced and sharpened, allowing for ramming and sideswipe attacks. The 1st CAD was equipped with ten squadrons of Devilfish, for a total of thirty armors... hopefully more than enough.

Eric was just finishing his pre flight checks when the timer reached zero. Time had officially run out for Carpentaria and all other ZAFT bases on Earth. The entire world seemed to hold its breath for a few moments. And then the battle commenced, as the ships in the 1st CAD launched hundreds of ship to surface and ship to air missiles at the Carpentaria defenders, those ships that were able to also began shelling the ZAFT defenses to soften them up. In return, mobile suits seemed to swarm out of Carpentaria's hangers and defense lines like insects from a kicked hive, and their interception fire mixed with that from the fixed defenses to form a sort of reverse rain that raced up to meet the incoming missiles and shells. Explosions filled the air and smoke clouds began to gather as both sides exchanged long range volleys. The next step was the swarms of fighter-bomber jets and Skygrasper-II's, flashing past the mobile suit CAP's on supersonic bombing runs. Unable to pursue the much faster jets, the ZAFT mobile suits were forced to try to shoot them down as they came or went, which was easier said then done when the targets were moving at more than 2000mph. Of course many shots did strike home, sending wrecked jets and pieces of jets tumbling through the sky in fiery explosions.

The real battle began when the Strike Dagger JA's and Cavalier's of the first wave engaged with the DINN's, Bucue's, Efreet, Grendels and Elementals of ZAFT's outer defense lines, even as the Devilfish encountered the Goohn's and Zno's deployed by the ZAFT submarine carriers. Initially the battle seemed relatively even, with the more powerful Elementals and prepared defensive positions of the ZAFT forces being more than equal to the superior numbers of Daggers and Cavaliers. But then the Isolationist's finished forming up and they began using their own new tactics, forming into trios and quads, utilizing the ability of their nigh impenetrable citadel shields to link into a powerful barrier shield stronger than the sum of its parts. Even repeated fire from heavy weapons utterly failed to penetrate these shield walls, and it was as ZAFT began to concentrate its forces on breaking through these formations that the 1st wave first struck out with its own punch.

Both FRALA units had set up on the front launch deck of the _Victorious_, with a clear view of almost eighty percent of the battle zone. FRAA did not function as well in atmosphere as they did in space, and the time interval between shots was longer than it would be otherwise, but when confronted with bunched targets, even only two shots was devastating. Almost twenty ZAFT mobile suits never really knew what hit them, the blue-white beams of the FRALA being almost impossible to see in broad daylight. Still, the effect was more than visible, as mobile suits collapsed or exploded, cut neatly in twain by miniscule beams of unimaginable heat. No armor any mobile suit could mount was any defense. The sudden, nigh inexplicable loss of so many machines threw ZAFT into disarray and the 1st wave began a slow but steady push outwards on all fronts. As this was happening, the second wave began deploying, the transport ships carrying the Archmage and Cataphract units moving up under heavy escort from the Independence and the Templars of the 71st SMS, as well as more Dagger's and Cavaliers. As the escorts cleared the way of mines and provided anti-missile defense, the transport ships sailed right over the heated and bloody conflict between the ZAFT underwater mobile suits and the Devilfish unmolested.

The transport ships sailed at flank speed right up into and onto the beach, their reinforced nose sections, much like those of icebreakers, more than up to the shock of driving into the sand. As soon as the ships came to a halt, the entire frontal section folded down into a ramp, and the Archmage mobile support outposts, all four of them, began to deploy, grumbling down their ramps on their massive treads. Each Archmage was an ugly box thirty meters square and twenty five meters tall, bristling with weapons on its upper decks and equipped with two battlefield repair/salvage facilities and enough supplies to maintain a coterie of 4 Cataphracts for up to two months in the field under normal battlefield conditions. Long armored cables linked the energy inefficient Cataphracts to the nuclear reactors inside the Archmage, allowing for near unlimited combat stay time. Phase shift armored and protected by the Citadel shield walls of its four Cataphracts, the Archmages with their heavy weapons and CIC computers were a major addition to the forces assaulting Carpentaria.

As soon as they hit the beach they began their relentless attack, anti-air quad 25mm gatling beam cannon mounts sweeping entire sections of sky clear of enemy munitions in storms of energy, 450mm railgun turrets combining with 150mm high energy beam cannons to blast away at mobile suits and defensive positions, while the main cannon of each Archmage, a 150cm positron "lohengrin light" discharged again and again, clearing a path ahead and neutralizing any enemy concentrations in a wash of capital class energy. The slow moving Cataphracts added their own weapons to the fray, using their heavy hyper impulse beam cannons, gatling cannon and missiles whenever they could drop the Citadel shield wall effect, and their 375mm artillery firing at maximum ascension to fire over it when they could not, sending precision bombardment fire deep into the base structures of Carpentaria even as they plodded forward. The Daggers and Cavaliers of the first and second waves joined forces, either falling into support roles for the Archmage units or pushing forward to strike deeper into ZAFT's defense lines.

It was to the latter role that Ashino and the 71st SMS dedicated themselves, advancing far ahead of the extremely slow and clumsy Archmage units and their inexorable progress. As Ashino moved forward he could easily pick out signs that showed that Carpentaria had yet to fully recover from the previous invasion by the Earth Alliance... burned out bunkers, bomb craters, destroyed wreckage that wasn't fresh, etc. Ashino was pleased with how the Independence handled... it felt good to be back in a mobile suit again, especially one that was based off his beloved Bane. Say what else you might about BCPU's, they did love their machines, their "other halves" in many ways. He had to admit, it also felt good to be engaged with Coordinators again, with ZAFT, the enemy he had been designed to defeat. He knew where he was at in this battle, what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to feel. It made a very nice change.

The firepower of the Independence and the 71st SMS backing it up was incredible. Though unable to utilize the multitarget system like Ashino could, the elite pilots of the 71st SMS still managed to pump out a prodigous amount of accurate fire that blew mobile suit after mobile suit out of the sky, covering each others backs and overlapping fire lanes so that for the entire first twenty minutes of their battle no enemy managed to approach within two hundred meters of them. They took fire many times, but all the pilots remained calm and allowed their training to take over, forming Citadel shield walls when they could and using their machine's high maneuverability and CIWS systems in other cases. The morale effect of having five Freedom's plus another Gundam besides fighting on their side was tremendous for the Isolationist forces, and terrible in turn for ZAFT, still smarting from the unexplained disappearance of their own Gundam after the fighting on the Moon.

Thirty minutes after the Archmages hit the beach the 3rd assault wave moved in, sailing over the now quiet waters where the ZAFT undersea forces had been dealt their first major naval defeat since the war began, overwhelmed by the not nearly so inferior Devilfish. The third wave consisted of the jets and bombers that had survived the initial attack undamaged, along with the infantry and conventional armor forces, who landed and then rapidly marshalled up, following in the clearly defined wake of the four Archmages. ZAFT fought for every meter of ground they lost, but in the end, they kept losing ground no matter what they tried. The Elementals and other mobile suits were, by and large superior to the Isolationist machines on an individual level... but with the new tactics and defensive technologies the Isolationists were deploying, not even mentioning shock weapons like the Archmages and the 71st SMS plus Ashino, standard mobile suit forces just weren't enough. By the time the _Victorious_ and two escort vessels steamed into the harbor entrance of Carpentaria and began shelling the harbor facility, preceeding their entry with two more FRALA blasts, ZAFT was on its last legs. That was a little over two hours after the attack started.

Fighting had almost stopped by the time the first Archmage reached the outskirts of Carpentaria base itself at the four hour mark, though ZAFT had never officially surrendered. It wasn't until Ashino and the 71st SMS hunted down the location of the command post and blew it sky high, after waiting ten minutes for a response to their surrender demand and the first companies of the infantry forces started securing the buildings, at the six hour ten minute mark, that the admiral in charge of the _Victorious_, received a comm from the surviving ranking officers of the ZAFT defense forces, indicating their desire to surrender. The mood amongst the Isolation forces was celebratory and slightly disbelieving. In a little over six hours, they had accomplished a task that three previous assaults, one preceeded by strategic nuclear attack, had singularly failed to do. The surviving ZAFT forces were disbelieving and shocked... in a little more than six hours a base that had withstood everything the Alliance had ever thrown at it, including strategic level nuclear weapons, had fallen to a conventional assault. They were also worried, as one of the first demands from their Isolationist captors was access to the civilian populations being sheltered in the secure bunkers underneath the base. ZAFT well remembered what had happened during the last invasion of Carpentaria with civilians.

Eric Kellson would always remember that day. Not just the fight itself, during which he and his unit fought brilliantly and with valor, but most especially the time after the fight, after he landed his Templar and was instructed by Ashino to proceed to a nearby bunker, where he would liase with the ZAFT forces in opening it and begin removal of the civilians in preparation for extradition to the PLANTS. He approached the cluster of ZAFT officers, haggerd looking in dirty and torn purple and white coats, guarded by a full company of armed marines. The despair and shock on the faces of the Coordinators was enough to twist a small knife in Eric's guts... did ZAFT really have such a low opinion of the Alliance? Did they really think they were just going to slaughter all the civilians or send them to death camps or something? Eric straightened his spine and saluted the officers sharply, clearly something they hadn't been expecting, judging from their hesitant response.

"My name is Captain Kellson, CO of the 71st SMS of the 1st Isolationist CAD." Eric said smartly. "I'd offer to shake hands, but you look like you've had a hard enough day already, so I won't force you to be any more civil than you want to be."

"I'm Brigadier-General Walters, of the Carpentaria Defense Force. I am currently the senior ranking officer left alive. I felt I should take personal responsibility in acquising to this demand." A forty-fiftiesh looking man with salt and pepper hair clad in the purple coat with black shoulders outfit of a ZAFT staff officer replied tiredly and a shade unsteadily. He didn't offer to shake hands either. "I never thought I'd see this day."

"To be honest sir, I wasn't really expecting to until recently either." Eric answered. "But rest assured, the Isolation is not Blue Cosmos. Your civilians are as safe with us as they are with you. We don't hate Coordinators, sir. We just can't let ourselves be around each other anymore."

"I won't argue with you captain, as you are the victorious one here." Walter's voice left no doubt that if the situations were reversed there'd have been a hell of an argument. "Let's get this over with." Walters turned to the bunker door and slowly keyed in a password, then swiped a passcard and submitted to a fingerprint scan. The Brigadier-General then stepped back several paces and cast a suspicious eyes at the marine company as the door locks began slowly disengaging and the door itself began slowly grinding open.

"Weapons safe!" Eric ordered. It wasn't technically within his powers, to order marines, but for once it was nice to be known as the sidekick to Supreme Commander Ashino, because the marines obeyed without more than a moment's hesitation. The gesture also made the ZAFT officers relax almost visibly. Eric stepped forward, so that he would be the first to enter. The door finally slid fully aside, revealing a room with six more locked doors in the walls, each obviously leading to a seperate shelter. Eric picked one at random. "If you would, sir?"

"You garuantee their safety?" Walters asked one more time, staring Eric in the face. Later on, Eric would never be able to explain why he did, and he never would have done it if he'd known there was a combat newscrew amongst the marines recording the whole thing. Keeping his eyes on Walters, Eric rapidly unbuckled his belt and slid off his pistol holster. Discarding the belt and then the holster, he handed the safed weapon to Walters.

"If I so much as breath in a manner that makes you think I'm about to order harm on your civilians, by all means, blow my head off, alright?" Eric stepped up to the keypad. "What's the code, general?"

"S-six... six four nine five three Alpha Golf Zulu." Walters looked without comprehension at the fully loaded firearm now in his hand. As Eric tapped in the code sequence, Walters slowly gripped the pistol by the grip and pointed it, somewhat unsteadily, at Eric's unarmored head. The door hissed open and revealed a dimly lit room. Almost before the door could fully open, a child raced out. The boy couldn't have been more than five, a middle schooler by Coordinator standards, if not nearly as emotionally mature. The tousel headed blond kid grabbed Eric right around the waist, hugging him tight.

"Daddy?" The kid sobbed, just starting to raise his head to look at the person wearing a flight suit the same color as his fathers. Eric's breath caught in his throat, this was definitely NOT a planned event. For all he knew the kid's dad was dead... hell, given how long ZAFT had held out, it was very likely. He might have even been someone Eric himself killed. There was no way of knowing, right then and there. Eric swallowed and fought back moisture in his eyes as he placed a hand gently on the kid's head, even as he slowly knelt to wrap the kid in a hug.

"No, sport, I'm afraid I'm not." Eric said quietly. He felt the tears on his cheeks. "But I'll see what I can do about finding him, one way or another." By now others had come to the door, adults. They looked at Brigadier-General Walters and took note of his worn appearance. Still, that in itself wasn't enough.

"Did... did we win, general?" one woman asked, looking slightly askance at Eric and the boy. Walters was still pointing the gun at Eric, but his hand was trembling so bad he didn't think he could shoot straight. When the woman asked him that question he broke down. His arm dropped, and the gun, still on safe, dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

"No... no, Ma'am, I'm afraid we didn't." Walters replied, half collapsing against the nearby wall. "As of several minutes ago, Carpentaria belongs to the Isolationists."

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"Six hours ten minutes! I would never have guessed a number TEN times that long!" Alkire said in amazement, watching the news play across the bridge screens of the Archangel, along with every other important person in the Clyne Faction. After the failed peace talks, everyone had returned to the Archangel, about as grim as they could be, despite the personal happiness of Dearka and Ysak. Lacus had retreated to a room by herself, and Kira had given her a half hour to collect herself before entering himself. That had been the last anyone had seen either until just before the attack on Carpentaria commenced. Though her distress had still been quite apparent to the crew nonetheless... even Stumps could feel the emotional blowup she and Kira had worked through together. Katie had told Lacus not to worry about getting mad, and she'd taken that advice to heart. In retrospect, Katie resolved never to tell Lacus to let herself go quite so literally ever again... for a Newtype it had like being tossed overboard in the middle of a hurricane. It was at times like that that Katie was glad her own emotions were much easier to deal with... fuck with her and she got pissed, no guilty feelings about it.

"Sai wasn't talking out of his arse there, when he said numbers were no longer the Alliance's only advantage. They've undergone a complete tactical renniessance, and they seem to have put out roughly five years worth of technological updates all at once on top of that!" Waltfeld agreed. "Submarine mobile armors, portable lightwave barriers, long range laser cannon, those mobile bases, entire units of Freedom's, plus a brand new Gundam... I don't mean to sound callous, but defending Orb was going to suck before... its going to be hell, now."

"News reports that similar assaults against ZAFT's holdings in Europe and the Mediterranian have been similarly overrun by the Isolationists. As of this moment, in any real sense of the world, ZAFT has lost Earth." Murrue added, her voice disbelieving. "All except for Orb, assuming Sai sticks to his plan, which I see no reason why he wouldn't having just come from meeting with him, the war is effectively over. ZAFT no longer has the forces to do anything but defend the PLANTS, and even then they probably wouldn't hold out against a dedicated assault the likes of which we just saw take Carpentaria."

"Never thought we'd be the people still fighting at the last. Us, the Clyne Faction, the people most dedicated to bringing peace...and we're the only force still fighting now. The irony is painful." Dearka commented.

"Yes it is." Lacus acknowledged, her voice steely. "However, it doesn't change what we have to do next. As much as I'd like to do the easy thing and surrender to Sai and bring peace at last, we cannot do that. The peace that Sai wants is not the peace we have fought to bring to the world. His peace will lead to millions more people dying slow, painful deaths, and the resulting hatreds will only lead to more and bloodier conflicts in future generations. We still have not stopped the cycle of hatred that comes from killing people... Sai's peace only delays that cycle, it does not break it. And so, against my own ideals, I must decide to fight on, letting the war continue with no good solution I can see in sight, because to give in to this peace is even worse than going on fighting."

"I don't want to fight anymore either." Kira added. "But, like Lacus, I can't give in to this peace. Not knowing, like we all do, what it means if we do. Perhaps its hypocritical of me, of all people, to continue fighting when peace has been accomplished, but if thats what it takes to prevent a catastrophe the likes of which we can barely imagine happening in the near future, then so be it. But Lacus and I have talked this over extensively. Even though we two have decided not to give in to this peace, we cannot make that decision for everyone else. Neither of us would blame anyone if they wanted out now. We are outnumbered and outmatched like we have never been before, up against an entire planet. We cannot ask you to stand against that, to fight to what might very well be the death, unless it is your own free will. Not when you can easily live in peace on that selfsame planet just as soon as you want to."

"Well, thats fine for the Naturals, but we Coordinators don't really have that much choice, do we?" Ysak said witheringly. "We're soon not gonna be welcome on Earth, unless Orb does the impossible and manages to defeat the entire rest of the Earth. And we all know what lies ahead on the PLANTS if everything goes down the tubes. "I don't know about anyone else, but I sure as hell don't got anywhere else better to be than here, and no where else I can even come to close to making as big a difference. I'm here till you kick me out and probably afterwards too."

"Hear, hear." Dearka added with a sardonic grin. "If we don't see this through to the bitter end, well, I at least wanna be able to legitimately bitch about not having enough food, if we lose." His gallows humor didn't bring many smiles, but it was the best he could manage.

"Orb is not only Cagalli's nation, but now my nation as well. If they want to kick out the Coordinators, they're going to have to drag me out, kicking and screaming, with nail marks on the ground, before I let a single civilian be deported illegally." Athrun said seriously. "The odds are against us... even more than usual. But theres nothing I can see to do but stand up to them until I die or they go away, whichever happens first. And I have no practice at dying."

"ZAFT's done, and they probably don't have space for a bum like me anyway." Waltfeld said with a small grin. "You'd better believe I'll be there, couldn't live with myself and this arm otherwise."

"Ever since JOSH-A, I've commanded the Archangel in the service of fighting for what I've considered right and just, no matter the odds or what people say. I'll put what you said to the crew, but I don't think we're going to have any quitters at this stage in the game. We've all too much invested in bringing about the true peace you envisioned for us, Lacus, for anyone to consider doing anything but seeing it through to whatever end it turns up being." Murrue put in firmly. The bridge crew nodded in steadfast agreement.

"I'm where Dearka is, and so is my happiness. And my home is Orb." Miriallia said simply.

"Well, damn." Alkire said slowly. "Way I see it, even if the war's over, the war's not over till we make Vlad and James and Chanel happy. Going along with Sai, even if that is the sane, non-suicidal way to do things, just wouldn't fit with that philosophy. And I couldn't let Ysak and Katie stay while I left... I can stand a lot of indignity, but my pride would never allow that. Plus you lot are totally helpless outside those machines."

"I'm with the Major, because that is what I do." Was Victor's reply. Raine said nothing, but nodded her strong agreement.

"I'm still here, though I can see why asking me would be something of a waste of breath." Katie commented, her arm around Ysak's waist.

"To Orb then?" Murrue asked.

"To Orb." Lacus agreed, sharing a brilliant smile with Kira that cheered everyone on the bridge for hours afterward.


	90. The Isolation, Fallen Angel

Ashino stood on the bridge of the AFNS _Victorious_ and watched with narrowed eyes as the stately shape of the Archangel slowly materialized in the middle of the Orb Defense Fleet, surfacing from some hidden hangar in the bedrock of the Orb island chain. The submersible capability of the Archangel had long been a known asset of the Clyne faction, but is was one thing to read about it and quite another to see a thirteen hundred foot long ship just rise out of the water with little to no warning at all. If he'd been human, Ashino probably would have been sweating with apprehension, like the rest of the bridge crew was. After all, the Archangel represented more than just a heavily armed battleship... if anything the warship itself was less threatening with all its renowned firepower and resilience than the cargo it was known to carry. Because facing the Archangel meant facing Kira Yamato, Athrun Zala, Yzak Joule, and Dearka Elsman. It meant the Liberty, the Righteous, the Duelist and the Grand Buster. It meant four top of the line Gundams, piloted by four of the most skilled Coordinator pilots the world had ever seen, all working as a team against you, supported not only by the Archangel itself, but by the by no means weak Orb Defense Fleet and its M-4 Guardian transformable mobile suits, plus Cagalli Zala-Attha herself in her own Gundam, plus who knew what other surprises Orb had in store. It was a daunting proposition and the fact that he had a task force at his back stronger than the one he'd used to Isolate Carpentaria didn't change that.

"We all knew this was coming." Ashino said quietly, though his voice carried easily to every corner of the dead silent bridge. "Ever since we set a course for Orb after our victory at Carpentaria, every man and woman among us knew, deep down, that this confrontation was ahead of us. That we would be facing off against not only a highly advanced and motivated defense force augmented by thousands of our former comrades from after Purgatory Day, but that our foes would include the previously undefeated Archangel and its crew, plus the mobile suits it is so famous for carrying. Well, now it is no longer ahead of us, but before us. You all know me, and you know I have little talent for grand speeches. But let me say this... they are not invincible. I have fought them more than just about anyone alive... and I can assure you, they are far from invincible. After all, I'm still here, aren't I? Just think about that. Remember your training. Remember your teamwork. Remember that if we allow ourselves to be turned back here, if we cannot enforce Isolation in just one part of the world, the entire plan falls apart and the war will continue until nothing is left but charred corpses and burning cities." Ashino let those thoughts sink in for a few seconds. "All hands, to Battle Stations."

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"Jeez, would you look at all that." Dearka said with amazement. "Looks like they brought half the ships in the world against us. I'll admit I thought the fleet strengths I saw mustering for the Battle of Josh-A were something, but they had nothing on this." Dearka stood with his nose pressed flat against the observation deck's plate glass windows, staring out at the Isolationist task force arrayed about ten miles away. Of course he'd seen the sensor and sonar displays back on the bridge, but the little blips didn't quite convey the true scale of the enemy forces. Ships carpeted the ocean in a mass almost six miles wide by two deep... there were seven super-sized Fleet Carriers like the one they'd attacked during the invasion of Carpentaria, ten regular aircraft carriers, more than thirty cruisers, eighty destroyers and smaller escorts, supply ships and troop ships beyond easy counting and more than forty attack submarines. Casual estimates placed enemy mobile strength at more than 320 mobile suits and around as many again mobile armors, plus at least thirty thousand infantry soldiers. And likely one Gundam, piloted by Markov Ashino. Against which they had about twenty cruiser class ships, The Archangel and almost ninety mobile suits, plus the 5 Gundams and a few Skygraspers.

The Isolationist task force had first appeared off Orb Territorial waters some eight hours earlier, broadcasting a demand for surrender and compliance, just like Sai said they would. Of course, Cagalli responded just as Athrun had predicted she would, with a vehement denial of any right by the Isolationist forces to invade and deport thirty percent of Orb's population, for any reason at all. The Archangel had landed five days prior and had been undergoing refit and repair for the entire time, as Orb scrambled to muster its defenses against the inevitable attack. There wasn't much to muster, since Orb was still a wreck from after Purgatory Day. But at least the population was almost fully behind them... straw polls indicating a greater than ninety percent approval rating for standing against the Isolationist forces in a military manner.

"Hmmph, just more targets on a range. Haven't they learned by now that the only real solution to enemy Gundams is having Gundam's yourself? They may outnumber us by more than six to one, but long odds don't impress me anymore." Yzak said confidently.

"Try and keep the arrogance down to a non-suffocating level, Ysak." Athrun said sharply. "A force less than half this size took Carpentaria base in a little more than six hours, and that was a target even we'd considered untouchable. If you go out there and expect them to fight like they did at Josh-A or the following Battle of Panama, you're going to get shot down. Sure, they might be mostly upgraded Crusaders and Daggers, but theres at least ten Freedom's out there. Ten. They may be piloted by Naturals, but still... thats no joke. On top of that, there is Ashino, who does have a Gundam that is at least a match for any one of us. If we go out there with anything but the highest respect for the capability of the enemy..."

"I get it, damn it! Sheez, Zala, do I tell you how to destress before combat? No, I fucking don't. So kindly just shut the fuck up and let me deal with things my way, and I'll endeavor to do the same." Ysak retorted. Athrun looked for a moment like he was going to pursue the confrontation, but Kira laid a hand on his shoulder and calmly shook his head. Let Ysak work out his stress for himself, with bluster and bravado. Athrun's tendency towards confrontation was his own symptom of stress, as was Dearka's forced light heartededness and Kira's introspection. Cagalli was pacing down in the ready room, likely conducting command meetings even as she finished prepping herself for launch, and Miriallia was busy praying. She wasn't particularly religious, but she couldn't help but think it sure wouldn't hurt to try and call in a few favors. Raine and Victor were checking their weapons again and again, while Alkire was working with Chief Murdoch to ensure the Skygrasper was ready for takeoff. Waltfeld was briefing the Orb pilots that had been assigned to the Archangel's task force section and Murrue was commanding on the bridge.

Kira had tried to convince Lacus to remain on shore, in the Orb command bunker with Kisaka, but she had been having none of that. She was the de facto leader of the Clyne Faction, and thus the person in overall control of their forces. She would share the danger of everyone under her command, or else she was not fit to be the leader at all, to use her own words. Though of course unable to fight, she took a place on the bridge of the Archangel anyway, securely strapped in and connected wirelessly to every communication device in their fleet. They had a few plans, last ditch type strategies, revolving around her and her Newtype powers, though everyone of course hoped it wouldn't come to that. Katie sat in Miriallia's old chair, running the CIC like she'd been born to it. In short, everyone in the Clyne Faction and its allied forces were entirely ready and waiting for any surprises the Isolationist forces were preparing to send their way.

"Sonar to the bridge... we've got what looks like a pod of whales breaching in a free floating kelp forest in our path. They are about a half mile directly ahead." Murrue blinked as she took that comm. Natural wildlife was of course expected in Earth' ocean, but she would have thought all large fauna would have been frightened off hours ago by all the ship movements. She gave a slight mental shrug... the Archangel was going to be airborne for most of the fight anyway, because of the increased maneuverability options that allowed.

"Wildlife to the front, distance one half mile, Sonar, Bridge, Aye." Murrue replied. "Helm, take us out of the water, up angle ten, make altitude forty."

"Up angle ten, altitude forty meters, aye ma'am." Ensign Neumann replied, and slowly the Archangel began lifting off from the waves, as it began advancing on the massed Isolationist forces along with the Orb fleet. There were several small chains of archipelago between them and the main enemy strengths, they were planning on using the relatively confining nature of the shallow waterways to their advantage, to help keep the much more numerous Isolationists from bringing to bear the full weight of their fleet's firepower. "The Archangel is clear of the surface. Ascending to forty meters now."

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"You are a sneaky bastard sometimes." Frost's voice was suddenly much more respectful than it had been during the previous few days. The period of enforced idleness had not been easy for the BCPU, and thus double uneasy for the other members of Tiamat. No one could guess when the little psycho would finally snap and just kill them all, but fortunately Asmodeus's intelligence and planning had struck gold one more time, and the Archnagel had appeared almost exactly when and where he had predicted it would. "I admit I never would have thought to hide a submarine in a mass of decaying vegetation. The whale carcasses are an especially nice touch. From a distance no one would even think twice about this, unless they were a marine biologist."

"Once again proving why I'm the one giving orders." Asmodeus muttered, carefully ensuring the comm system was off first. "It isn't perfect, but as far as camouflage goes it isn't the worst I've ever been forced to make do with. Unfortunately, calling in the favors required to not only acquire this stealth submarine and the other specialty equipment we needed has almost entirely used up our credit with the EFSOU founders and our own operating budget."

"Budget, budget, budget... thats all you whine about these days." Frost retorted. "Where's your sense of adventure, Asmodeus? Who cares what it costs, or what we have to do to get it... thats WHEN thinking. Its here now and we're ready to use it. All your damn planning paid off, and the waiting is over. Its just about time to bring the HOW to our enemies, at long last."

"Yes, of course, that is true." Asmodeus found it was easier just to agree with his so called partner. It tended to result in less internal organizational bloodshed. So he mouthed agreement and then institued his own plans anyway, and thus Tiamat generally prospered. The failure to kill Sai in New New York City nearly a week prior still stung his pride, but it was partly salved by the news reports detailing how much of the central city had been rendered uninhabitable by the poison gas. Casualties were already estimated into the high thousands, many of them government workers. A successful operation, even if the primary target escaped by being up on the Moon, conducting secret peace talks that fortunately failed to pan out. Asmodeus shook his head clear of the memories and regrets and focused on the here and now. "They'll be overhead in less than five minutes. Remember Frost... take no action until they are directly overhead. When is of course not important, but if you break concealment too early, your How will be a Gottfried blast to the face and thats quite embarassing for someone of your history, I'd think."

"I know what to do... its been three days of sitting in this cockpit listening to you go over the plan again and again, I think I could recite it in my sleep. You just remember our deal. If she's on the Archangel, she doesn't die until I kill her. If she's even wounded, I'll eviscerate you all slowly with a rusty hacksaw."

"You've made your conditions quite clear. You can rest assured that we will bear them solidly in mind. I'm cutting comms now to ensure stealth capability." Asmodeus signed off the land line comm that temporarily connected the small stealth submarine to the Fury, lying half buried almost one hundred meters below on the sea floor. Getting the Gundam in place had been no easy feat to accomplish undetected, but by coming in several days early and just leaving the super-humanly enduring Frost in place had worked quite well. Three days trapped in a pitch black mobile suit cockpit three hundred feet underwater with only a few bottles of water, a few combat ration packs and a oxygen generating system running on one fourth capacity would leave any Natural or Coordinator pilot entirely unfit to walk, much less fly and fight. Fortunately for Tiamat, such conditions were merely annoying for Frost, rather than debilitating. Conditions aboard the stealth submarine hadn't been particularly enjoyable either, with fifteen men and associated gear crammed into a mostly uninsulated tube twenty feet in diameter and seventy five feet long, where two thirds of all interior space was already taken up with equipment necessary for operating the submarine. There was only a single bathroom and no shower, and they had been forced to remain inside and mostly motionless, chilled by the cold water around them, for almost the entire time.

Asmodeus turned his head and regarded his chosen soldiers as best he was able. Die hard zealots to a man, not necessarily the best trained or most experienced of the members of Tiamat, but the ones who's loyalty he was entirely certain of. These men would follow him to the bowels of hell itself if he ordered it. They were the sort who would ordinarily strap suicide bombs to their torsoes before a mission, in case they became too wounded to continue on. Asmodeus had forbidden that practice, but only because he didn't want any accidents killing them all before they even began the mission. "Kill everyone. I don't care what Frost threatens, he has a short attention span. He might kill one or two of us, but really, who expects to live through this mission anyway?" No man raised a hand.

"We've covered this again and again, but I'll overview one more time, to fill the minutes. When the Archangel flies by overhead, I will trigger the explosive charges that will shred our topside camouflage and peel the top of this submarine off like a tin can being opened. At the same time, the topside multipurpose launchers will fire three EARP missiles into the bottom of the Archangel, while the fourth launcher fires an anchor cable into the hole thus made. Using the ZAFT emergency ejection harnesses we are all wearing, as well as a cable-climbing handgrip, we will ascend in good order and at high speed into the interior of the Archangel. I estimate that at most we will have eight seconds to cover anywhere from twenty to sixty meters, before the Archangel's forward progress snaps the anchor cable and leaves the deployment zone behind. Anyone who misses the hole, assuming one is made in the first place, will either smash headfirst into the under armor of the Archangel, thus likely breaking your neck or skull, or will be left swimming in the water while two fleets engage in a free for all fight around you. Either case means death." Asmodeus paused and stared his men in the eye one more time. No one showed any signs of wavering, not that he'd expected them too. It was far too late for regrets anyway.

"Once inside we will split up into teams. One team will head to engineering spaces and do their best to destroy or disable the ship's propulsion and generating systems. Another will head to the bridge to neutralize the ship's command crew. If we have enough for a third team, they will head to the hangar spaces and attempt to interdict the pilots before they can board their machines. Precisely twelve seconds after the first missiles are fired, our ally below will attack the Archangel and attempt to destroy it. If we are successful, so likely will he be. There is no evacuation plan. Take as many down as you can, and if you somehow manage to survive and escape, then know that God himself is looking out for you. For the preservation of our Blue and Pure World..." Asmodeus intoned the ritual phrase, staring at a tiny screen that showed a blip for the submarine and a larger blip that represented the Archangel.

"For the preservation of our Blue and Pure World..." the soldiers echoed, as the two blips moved to occupy the same space on the screen and a chime sounded insistently. Asmodeus pressed a single white button on a console by his head. With a deafening roar the kelp and decaying meat that were affixed to the outside of the submarine and to the nets that floated on the water for several dozen yards in all directions blasted away in a near instantaneous series of explosions. A quarter second later the back two thirds of the submarine's top deck peeled back with a shriek of shearing and tearing metallic polymer and flipped several meters into the air like a discarded bottlecap flicked from the top of a carbonated drink. Four missiles left the forward topside launchers in columns of smoke and fire. Caught unprepared, the Archangel's Iegelstellung 75mm CIWS defenses were still under manual control for pre-battle testing, and the mere forty meters of distance between the ship and the sub did not allow enough time for even most computer systems to react anyway. The three EARP missiles struck in a cluster, right on the exterior ramp/hatch for the Archangel's loading/cargo bay. Though armored well, the concentrated attack by munitions designed to defeat heavy armor was more than enough to blow a five meter hole at the impact point, through which the anchor cable shot and firmly anchored on an interior bulkhead.

Designed to replace antique parachute type ejection seats, the ZAFT emergency ejection harnesses allowed for short lived manually controlled flight, no more than three minutes at most on Earth, considerably more in space. In either case an initial surge of power allowed for an ascent of almost one hundred meters in ten seconds, with the remaining time representing hover mode for a slow descent to land or water. A little creative tinkering on the part of Tiamat had extended the power boost to almost twenty seconds, covering an estimated six hundred meters and eliminated the hover capacity. Now more short lived jetpacks than safety equipment, the harnesses proved more than effective for Asmodeus's intentions. Using the anchor line as a guid, twelve of the Tiamat soldiers, including Asmodeus himself, made the crossing between the submarine and the Archangel in a little less than five seconds. Two of that twelve broke their necks when they proved unable to stop quickly enough and rammed themselves into the cargo bay ceiling moving at roughly terminal velocity. Of the three that missed the hole, two suffered similar fates when they impacted the lower armor of the Archangel, smearing themselves like bugs on a windshield, while the last and least fortunate suffered a harness malfunction that fired him sideways rather than up, breaking both legs and an arm on the side of the submarine in the process and dumping him into the ocean, wherein he was devoured by sharks attracted to the whale meat camouflage several hours later.

With a vibrant "twang" the anchor cable snapped as the Tiamat soldiers quickly gathered up their gear and distributed the equipment of the fallen, while they listened to the damage control alarms blaring. There were no announcements regarding boarders, so Asmodeus decided that their unorthodox method of entry had yet to be detected, which was of course in their favor. Not that they would remain undetected long, as short blurts of autofire announced the arrival and subsequent massacre of the damage control crews. But by then the Archangel had a bigger problem to be concerned with, as the Fury burst from the water beneath them like a sea monster of legend, thrusters already roaring at maximum velocity.

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"Explo..." the sensor officer started to shout, but he was interrupted by the sound of rending armor and the echoing blasts from the EARP missile impacts resounding throughout the ship.

"Missile impacts detected, lower cargo bay hatch! Armor breached, repeat armor breached! Damage Control crews report to the cargo bay! Heat source detected beneath us! Heat source is rapidly growing!" the auxilarly sensor operator started shouting, the reports flowing in one continuous stream as events happened faster than he could report them.

"..sions detected beneath us!" the sensor officer finished, slapping the collision and battle damage alarm buttons, bringing sirens and horns to life throughout the ship.

"Report damage! Operations, where did those missiles come from!?" Murrue shouted. "FLANK SPEED! Take evasive action, hard to starboard NOW!"

"Heat source profiled and analayzed... ma'am its the..." the aux sensor operator was cut off by the Fury blasting out of the water, one shoulder cleanly bisecting the abandoned submarine, sending both halves rapidly sinking to the bottom. For this mission Frost had allowed Asmodeus to talk him into borrowing a pair of 200mm hyper impulse cannons from two of Tiamat's Strike Crusaders. Though he disdained the ungainly cannons, Frost quietly acknoweldged the fact that his beam swords and rifles were of less use against the Archangel than they were against mobile suits. As soon as he cleared the surface Frost aimed and fired, his Celerity system active and his implants already working at maximum flow. A instant of hesitation on his part and the Fury would fly smack into the Archangel, likely resulting in a spectacular explosion that while effective would hardly be a fitting How for Frost. As soon as the red-blue beams fired, Frost kicked the Fury around and threw all power into averting a collision. He was successful by a margin of less than two meters, but only because of the damage done by the two heavy weapon shots.

The two hyper-impulse beams sheared through the ablative armor of the Archangel like it was made from soft wax, striking just aft of the port mandible, in the power accumulators for the port Lohengrin. The beams themselves continued on, inflicting severe damage as they bored through multiple decks of storage and secondary mechanical spaces before blowing out the top of the mandible, shredding the port Gottfried turret from beneath. But the real problem came from the Lohengrin array, which rapidly destabilized and detonated. Though fortunately not charged to capacity, like the Judgement's had been when it was destroyed, the stored energy in the Lohengrin array was still equal to the force of several hundred tons of TNT being set off at once. The blast wave sent the Fury tumbling away like a rag doll in an autumn gale, to splash awkwardly down in the water several hundred meters away. The same shockwave tilted the Archangel almost forty degrees downward to starboard in an instant as well as kicking the entire ship almost thirty meters starboard, tossing everything and everyone not securely strapped down through the air like confetti.

Deckplates in the port mandible hanger bay warped and ruptured as billows of fire and smoke raced up like a pyroclastic flow from a volcano, sadly spelling near instant doom for all the mechanic crews working in that hangar, preparing the Righteous and the Liberty for launch. As was customary for the Archangel, the Liberty was already in place on the linear catapult, just waiting for its pilot to show up and strap in before launching, while the Pulsar was secured in the Liberty's maintenance cradle, directly across from the Righteous. As a result, the Liberty was thrown around like a rock in a tin can, its feet tearing out of the magnetic couples securing it to the catapult system, ruining it even before the system collapsed along with most of the hangar floor due to the fact that almost all the structural supports beneath them were suddenly melted away in the explosion. Secure in their cradles, both the Righteous and the Pulsar escaped with only minor scratches and heat damage. The Liberty on the other hand suffered severe damage to both legs, especially from the shin down, as well as shattered servo's in the right arm and had one HiMat wing completely shear off when it got slammed into the ceiling and took the full weight of the machine for an instant. The Liberty lay on what remained of the hangar floor, cockpit down, covered in ash, debris and wreckage.

Ship's power cut in and out for a few seconds before stabilizing with the lights dim and red emergency lights blinking in most corridors. The power surge caused by the overloading weapon system, as well as the other internal damage from the hyper impulse shots caused widespread shorts and electrical faults throughout the ship, resulting in several fires and several sections of the ship losing electrical power for more than thirty minutes. Engineering was one such place, and the sudden jar from the explosions hadn't done the relatively delicate equipment much good either. The port generator was offline, though the emergency backup had started and was covering the load for the moment. However, the backup could supply ships loads and weapons, but not altitude thrust and the Archangel began listing sharply to port, sending people and loose gear sliding back across the decks in the opposite direction from which they had been initially thrown.

"UNABLE TO MAINTAIN ALTITUDE! STEERING THRUSTERS INOPERABLE ON PORT SIDE!" the helmsman shouted, wrestling with his control yoke. "We're drifting to port and losing altitude at the rate of a half meter per second ma'am!"

"DAMAGE CONTROL, I NEED A REPORT!" Murrue shouted back, wincing as her neck protested the whiplash it had recently suffered. Fortunately the bridge crew had already strapped themselves into their seats in preparation for her calling Battle Stations, so no one had been thrown around, though there was a lot of loose objects... cups, pens and hats amongst other things... that were currently scattered around the bridge. "Bring us down slowly, Ensign!" She snatched at the shipwide announcing intercomm. "ALL HANDS BRACE FOR EMERGENCY LANDING!" She slammed the intercomm down. "OPERATIONS, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"

"Hyper-impulse weapon discharge detected, Ma'am! It's the Fury! He attacked us from the water below!" the aux sensor operator called, feeling a trickle of blood drip down his scalp from where he'd slammed his head into the top of his console just a moment before.

"Port Lohengrin destroyed! Port Gottfried destroyed! Severe damage to port mandible and hangar bay! Casulaties suffered, all medical teams lay forward!"

"This is Engineering! Port generator offline, backup operating within parameters. Lighting is down, injuries suffered, request medical assistance!"

"This is the starboard hangar! We've got a lot of wounded here... we need help!"

"Fire Fire Fire! Class alpha (paper/cloth) and charlie (electrical) fires in the galley and secondary spaces! Class bravo (oil/fuel) and delta (combusting metals) fires in forward and midships mechanical storage holds! Fire Fire Fire!"

"Ma'am! I'm losing the starboard altitude thrusters! They can't handle the strain! We're going down! Descent rate now two meters per second and climbing!"

"ENEMY MOBILE SUIT DETECTED, PORT SIDE!"

"Ma'am we've got..." the last report cut out in a series of sounds that Katie instantly recognized. She slammed her hand down on a button she'd never imagined any modern day ship would ever need to use, initiating another automatic siren and warning announcement. "ALL HANDS, REPEL BOARDERS. REPEL BOARDERS!"

"What!?" Murrue shouted, whipping her head around to stare at Katie.

"Gunshots! Autofire. Damage control cargo bay, report status! Damage control cargo bay, report status!" Katie yelled back. No one answered. "Last reporter, say again! Say again!" No replied to that either. "Anyone, has anyone seen the damage control crew for the cargo bay..." Katie was cut off by the sound of gunfire, completely unmistakeable this time.

"This is Victor, holding door Romeo-3-2-2. Confirming boarders, confirming hostile boarders! Unknown number or affiliation but I coulda sworn..." the report cut out in a wash of static and overstressed feedback noise. "... fucking grenades... who the fuck... grenades... fucking inside... goddamn warship... ASMODEUS!" the radio cut in and out and then went entirely dead. Murrue thought rapidly, even as she struggled to accept the fact that her ship really had been boarded somehow. Door R322 was one of the doors leading into the crew's quarters two decks above the cargo bay that had been initially breached. The invaders were moving fast. The deck shifted under her chair again as the Archangel finally lost its ability to even slightly control its altitude as the starboard thrusters sputtered and blew out, overloaded and overheated from the strain of trying to keep the entire ship in the air. The floor seemed to drop away like they were on a rollercoaster as the Archangel half rolled onto its port side and went into a shallow dive, still strongly propelled by its rear thrusters. "BRACE..." she started to shout, but then it was too late.

The Archangel slammed down on the ocean's surface with all the grace of a cannonball, almost crushing the Fury underneath it's bulk. The first impact was bad, but it was actually the softest the Archangel would experience. Coming in at roughly a ten degree down angle and moving close to one hundred miles per hour, the Archangel struck the water and skipped like a stone. The second impact came with the shallow bottom of the ocean as the Archangel rapidly approached one of the islands that they had been planning to shelter the Orb ships behind. The second impact cut power to the entire ship, leaving everything bathed in the bloody glow of the emergency battery lights. Still moving at roughly ninety miles per hour, the Archangel skipped again, heeling sharpely over to starboard since it was the port side that had struck first. The third impact was the worst, because the right mandible.hangar bay struck solid dry ground and dug in, catching for almost two seconds, swerving the Archangel around like a stone on the end of a rope. The ship struck the ground at about forty five degrees to full side on and slid, carving out a massive trench as it did so. Almost three hundred meters later the Archangel finally came to a stop, roughly upright, its underside scoured of armor and weapons.

Steam and smoke rose all around the ship from numerous brush and forest fires the landing had casued, as well as from within the ship itself. Lighting slowly came back on in some sections of the ship, though many others would remain in darkness. The ship's interior video communication network was offline, as were almost sixty percent of all combat systems. The port hangar bay had almost completely collapsed, though the Righteous and the Pulsar remained miraculously accessible through the maintence bay that connected the port and starboard hangers. The Liberty had been lost on the second bounce, ejected through the disintegrating floor of the hangar bay when it rebounded from the shallow sea-bed, though that wasn't immediately obvious unless you actually entered the hangar itself and somehow managed to look through the burgeoning inferno that was consuming the area, fed from several ruptured hydraulic lines. Slowly the stunned occupants started to regain their bearings and take appropriate actions.

Asmodeus and his boarders had lost a further three men to the crash, their broken bodies having been thrown into several walls and then rolled down nearly three flights of stairs. That left them with only seven effectives, but even in a ship the size and quality of the Archangel, seven well trained men can do a lot of damage... especially if they didn't care about leaving. Modern ship based tactics did not commonly allow for boarding maneuvers, but the few protocols that existed called for use of weapons like tear gas and shotguns... weapons that were effective in tight quarters and had low penetration power, because the last thing you wanted to do was shoot out a window and either let the water in or worse, let the air out if you were in space. Explosives like grenades and such were thus not even considered as viable by shipboard security forces, as were defenses against them. Tiamat's fanatics didn't give a rats ass about anything but crippling the ship and killing people, so they tossed bombs and grenades with wild abandon, and were quick to use their fast firing assault rifles with high penetrating power bullets. Also, they were already armored with body armor, something that was not true of the crewmembers they encountered. Tiamat split into two teams, with three men led by Asmodeus heading for Engineering, while the other three headed for the bridge.

"All mobile suit pilots launch now! Repeat launch now!" Murrue commanded, gingerly unstrapping herself, knowing that she'd be sporting some extremely fine strap marks in a few hours, assuming she lived that long. With boarders there was a simple strategy... hit the bridge and hit engineering. Disable one and the ship would be impaired, disable both and it was as good as dead. "CIC continue to feed me reports. Helm, Operations and any Aux operators, arm yourselves. We're going to hold the bridge against the boarders. Someone give me a STATUS REPORT!"

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"Uhhh..." someone groaned in the darkness that was the oberservation deck. "Wha'... the he... ll..."

"We got hit..." Athrun slowly pulled himself up the wall, feeling like he'd just thrown himself down a flight of stairs headfirst. His head was ringing and his balance was way off, at least until he realized it was because the ship was resting at an angle. "Hard..." It was pitch black for some reason, not even the emergency lighting was working. He fumbled along the wall, his feet shuffling as he tried not to step on anyone that might be lying injured on the deck. His searching hands quickly found the vid-comm controls, but the screen was either damaged or the system was down, because it didn't respond to his attempts to call the bridge.

"What the fuck... is all that noise..." Ysak grumbled from a few feet away, holding his head in his hands and tenderly feeling what felt like two egg sized lumps on his skull. "And can someone turn on the goddamn lights!"

The lights didn't turn on, but the room grew brighter when the hatch leading back into the rest of the ship screeched open, throwing a dim red glow inside, almost immediately followed by several harsh white beams of light from damage control flashlights. "Everyone alive in here!? Athrun!? Kira!?" Cagalli called worriedly, peering into the room, fearing the worst. She'd been lucky enough to manage to brace herself pretty good in a corner of the ready room, so she hadn't been tossed about much by the impacts, though the initial explosion had knocked the breath out of her when she went flying the width of the room into a couch. She didn't even want to think about what it must have been like to be standing unsuspecting on the observation deck... images of pebbles being shook in a can came to mind. She'd rushed up there as soon as she was able to round up a few mechanics... being Chief Representative came in handy because it allowed her to order the Orb crewmen to leave off the damage control to help her. Maybe not the most unselfish of acts, but screw that... this was Athrun and Kira.

"We're all right. Well, we're alive anyway." Kira said, slowly crawling upright against the glass wall of the room, almost twenty feet away from Athrun. Athrun winced, since Kira had been right next to him before the world had suddenly gone violent... that was a hell of a slide/flight. "Doesn't feel like anything's broken... though I don't wanna see what my face looks like... feels like I just wiped the floor with it. What happened?"

"Theres no time! Captain Ramius has ordered all pilots to launch immediately. I get the feeling we're still under attack. And they called out repel boarders a short while before we crashed."

"Repel boarders! WTF!?" Dearka moaned, helping a wincing Miriallia to her feet. "How the FUCK did they BOARD a ship in FLIGHT?"

"Who knows... whats important is that we launch. If the ship is under attack we're not doing any good sitting around in here!" Ysak pushed past Cagalli and sprinted towards the hangar. Despite his obvious confusion, Dearka was close on his heels, half pulling a still dazed Miriallia behind him. Athrun took a moment to clasp Cagalli in his arms, to reassure her that he was indeed fine, just bruised and shocked. A look of concern passed over Kira's face in an instant, being replaced by one of calm iron determination.

"Lacus and the bridge crew are fine, just a little shaken up. It was Frost that shot us down. And apparently Victor saw Asmodeus, though Lacus can't detect him, which I suppose is standard for dealing with him." Kira reported. "I wonder how they knew what we would do..."

"If Asmodeus is here, then I'm sure he had something to do with it. He may be crazy now, but lets not forget he's every bit as smart or smarter than Alkire and the others. What matters is that he figured out what we were going to do, and he set a trap for us. Now its up to us to make sure the trap backfires on him." Athrun said firmly. He gave Cagalli a quick kiss. "I'll see you out there... lets give that bastard Frost what he deserves."

"I'll be waiting, don't be late." Cagalli handed them a flashlight and then headed off after Dearka and Ysak. It took less than a minute for Kira and Athrun to reach the port hangar, passing several damage control and medical crews working furiously to contain the damage and deal with the casualties from the devastating surprise attack. Kira hadn't seen the Archangel this badly damaged... ever... come to think of it. After Jachin Due came close, but in space there was precious little to crash into, unlike on Earth. Nothing could have prepared either for the chaos that confronted them when they opened the personnel access door to the hangar bay. The heat and smoke almost instantly forced them back, arms across their faces, choking and coughing. It was a firestorm inside, unapproachable for anything human.

"Go... cough, cough... around. Use the... cough... maintenance bay entrance..." Kira pulled Athrun along by the sleeve. They felt the slight rumble pass through the deckplates that signaled the launch of a mobile suit from the opposite hangar. "There goes Ysak. I hope he can take it long enough for the rest of us to get out there."

"It's Ysak... he just doesn't know how to lose." Athrun quipped with a only slightly forced smile. Thirty seconds later, and one more launch, meaning Dearka and Miriallia were now in combat as well, and they managed to circle around to the port hangar again. The heat was still intense, but at a level they could deal with it for a short time anyway. Kira shaded his eyes with one hand and peered into the fire for a few seconds.

"Where's the Liberty?" Kira asked, dumbfounded for a moment. How did a 20 meter mobile suit just disappear, raging inferno or not? Athrun didn't reply, having headed for the Righteous without delay. "Athrun! Wait! I don't have a mobile suit!" Either Athrun didn't hear him over the fire or he didn't care, because he didn't turn back or even acknowledge him before boarding the Righteous and began getting it ready to move out under its own power, since the hangar systems were quite obviously down. "Damn it!" Kira swore with feeling, skipping backward to avoid the Righteous as it stepped out of its maintenance cradle and began slowly pushing its way through the fire and debris towards the hangar exit. The Righteous hunched over and sifted through the fire with its hands for a few moments and then Athrun proved he had heard Kira after all.

"It's not buried in the wreckage! It looks like the entire deck is gone, theres a massive hole in the ship! Maybe the Liberty got thrown out during one of those impacts?" Athrun announced over his external speakers.

"What the hell am I supposed to do then!?" Kira shouted back. "I'm no good without a mobile... suit..." his voice trailed off as his gaze tracked across the Pulsar.

Apparently Athrun's camera's had shown him where Kira was looking. "No! Absolutely not! We're not sure how safe that mobile suit is! Remember what happened to Borander? You want that to happen to you!? Come out burned like crispy bacon!?"

"We don't know if that was caused by the machine or something else! And we're not exactly spoiled for choice! And don't you have someplace to be, my sister's out there waiting for you!"

"DAMN IT, KIRA! THIS IS A REALLY STUPID IDEA!" Athrun swore, turning the Righteous and heading for the hangar doors, which he was forced to blast open with several shots from his dual 57mm beam rifle. "Cagalli will never forgive me if you get hurt... but I can't let them fight Frost by themselves! LACUS... STOP HIM!" The Righteous took off and headed towards the other three machines, who were visibly engaged in a life or death struggle against Frost and the Fury.

Kira took three steps towards the Pulsar before Lacus broke through the shield he'd erected in his mind for privacy's sake. Kira wasn't that surprised, though a small part of him had wished that something like this wasn't going to happen. _Kira..._

"Yes, Lacus, I know it's not the best choice. But we really don't have ANY choice."

_You can't see that machine the way Katie and I can. It is not safe to use. I hate to say it like this, but that machine is evil._

"It's just a mobile suit!"

_It has a presence. It's not strong, but its there. I can see it just like I can see your own mind, it just takes a little more looking. And I don't like what I see. It thirsts for combat. It desires it. That machine scares me, Kira. We should have gotten rid of it a while ago._

"Listen to me... without a mobile suit I'm completely useless. I can't use a gun, I can't fight soldiers. I hate it, but piloting a mobile suit is what I do for the Clyne Faction. Its what I do to bring peace! If I can't do that I'm no more than a useless kid! They're up against FROST! THEY NEED MY HELP!"

_No Kira... I understand how you feel. Better than anyone I do. But I can't let you pilot that machine. I forbid it!_

"You forbid it!? Are you telling me you forbid me to help my sister and my best friends!? Lacus!? Damn it, I didn't want to do this!" Kira continued heading for the Pulsar.

_Kira... Kira... KIRA... KIRA!! Don't do this, Kira..._

"No, Lacus, I'm sorry but I can't listen to you this time. I have to help them. Even if this machine isn't safe, I still have to go. It's all I can do!"

_...I can stop you Kira..._

That brought him up short. The single phrase, quietly spoken even for a mental communication. It was almost a threat. Kira swallowed hard. "Yes... I'm pretty sure you could, Lacus. All you'd have to do would be try, and I'm reasonably sure you could knock me out where I stand, even control me like a puppet. But... I really hate to say it like this... but I don't think you could do that and ever look me in the eye again. I know I wouldn't be able to... to... trust... someone who would forcibly take my free will away." Tears welled in his eyes and his voice choked up. "So if... if you're going to stop me, you'd better do it now... and you'd better be ready for what comes afterwards... I'm sorry, but thats how I feel about this."

_Kira... I love you, but..._

"I love you too, Lacus, but that doesn't have any bearing on this. This is my choice, wrong or right I can't say yet. Now its up to you to make a choice. Like you said, you can stop me. Theres nothing I can do about that." Kira swallowed again. "Please don't stop me, Lacus. Please."

_...Fine. But this is a long way from over, Kira. You didn't like it when I brought up my ability to stop you by force... I liked it a lot less that you forced me to go that far. I've warned you about that machine and you refused to listen to me, when I'm the more expert of us on the subject. But you called my bluff... and part of me wonders which of us it is that is really forcing the free will of the other? You held my feelings for you hostage, Kira and used them as a shield so that I would let you use that machine. I love you more than anything... but I've lost some respect for you... I thought you were better than that..._

Getting shot in the groin with a taser couldn't have hurt more than those last few words, and indeed Kira felt her disappointment almost like a phsyical blow, but he couldn't let it stop him. "I'm sorry Lacus."

_Yes you are. And yes you will be, when you come back. I don't take kindly to people playing with other's emotions to get what they want, especially mine. Now go... go and fight in that machine. And don't get mad at me if you get fried doing it... Damn it, Kira!_

"I know. I'm sorry. I love you too, Lacus." Kira started climbing the ladder to the Pulsar's cockpit.

BEEP!! The force of the beepcall almost made him lose his footing. _You are a dead man walking, Yamato. She's crying, you bastard. Really crying hard. Of all the people I ever figured would make Lacus cry, you were on the bottom of the damn list, you son of a bitch. You hear me? When you come back, you are FUCKED, understand? And not in any good way. I'm going to take you out like yesterday's trash. And I don't even know what Athrun and Cagalli will do to you, but I bet it won't be pretty._

"I think you're probably right about that, Katie." Kira resumed his climb. "However, that's in the future, and right now I just need to go help fight Frost. So if you would kindly stop badgering me, I'd appreciate it."

_Fine. I said what I meant to say. Good luck out there... Frost looks to be in top form, the bastard._

Kira climbed into the cockpit of the Pulsar, noting again just how tiny it was... barely big enough to stand up in, and nowhere near wide enough to stretch out his arms. He shivered a little when he saw how all the interior compartment covers, which Dearka and Ysak had removed weeks ago while inspecting the interior of the cockpit and never replaced had managed to return to their places. Just like the armor had repaired itself, so too was the interior recreating itself towards some set standard. It was more than just a little creepy. Kira figured it was some sort of micro self-repair system or even nanotech, but he knew of nothing in either field within decades of this sort of reconstruction work. He punched the hatch control button and sealed himself into the machine. He was slightly unsure of where to go from there, but the Pulsar was ready, its action memory well prepared for this eventuality.

"Initiating aerated suspension gel flow." the computer said in a neutral electronic voice. Shutters whined open on vents around the circumference of the floor and a thick pinkish gel began seeping out, quickly covering the floor and then rapidly rising up his legs. It was like standing in a ever deepening pool of half melted strawberry jello. When the gel reached his waist, the computer continued with the next phase of the synchronization. "Comm sensors deploying. Open wide." Kira was bemused for a moment even as two wires with circular sensor pads descended from the cockpit ceiling, guided by segmented armatures into his mouth. It was almost like being worked on by one of the newer models of automated dentist chairs, but a good deal more surreal. The wires were secured between his molars and the sensor pads adhered to the top of his layrnx. It was tough fighting the gag reflex, but thankfully the operation was over in a matter of seconds. It felt decidedly odd having the wires trailing out of his mouth, but Kira guessed it was soon to be the least of his discomforts as the gel level came to his chin and kept rising steadily.

It was one thing to know that the gel was perfectly breathable. It was another entirely to actually breathe it in. Kira couldn't help himself, he tried to hold his breath. It didn't work... after about 45 seconds the Pulsar sent a slight electric shock through the gel... just enough to untense his muscles and open his mouth. The gel came pouring in and he was hacking and coughing and gagging and almost aphxiating before his body realized it could breathe just fine, if with more effort than before. What was worst of all was that he'd felt Lacus brush his mind slightly, just enough to be sure he wasn't actually drowning, but other than that she didn't seem too distressed at his distress. He got a strong feeling of "serves him right".

"Connecting to ship's power for startup. Ship's power insufficient for garuanteed startup. Attempting low power startup... startup failed. Connecting to ship's power for startup. Power insufficient for startup. Releasing saftey locks, routing power... power available..." Kira's eyes widened. "Wait, I didn't say to do any of that!" his words came out garbled by the thick gel, and there was no one else connected to his comm system to hear him at the moment anyway. It was too late by that time, as the Pulsar drained enough power from the Archangel to blow out the emergency port and starboard generators and send the starboard main generator into emergency shutdown. The ship switched over to battery power, but the forced re-routing of the ship's power supply had caused even more damage than the Fury and the crash had already caused. Almost 90 percent of the Archangel's systems were now in emergency shutdown, leaving only a few vital things like sensors and life support/damage control with any sort of operational capacity. "Murrue is going to kill me too..."

"Main power online, secondary power systems aligned and charged. Cooling systems blue, blue. Fusion Pulse Reactor operating at 3 percent capacity. Continuing with synchronization process. Initiating Neural Interface Control System linkage. Please remain stationary." The computer droned on. "Initiating what!?" Kira was answered a moment later as scores of silvery wires began extruding through the gel towards fim from all sides. He couldn't help it, he flinched. Still, there was nowhere to go, the wires were coming from all sides, even from above. The wires were briefly cold against his skin as they trailed across him and he flinched again, hard, as they suddenly burrowed into his skin. But not because it hurt... the burrow points neither bled nor hurt, not even the ones on his head. Kira blinked involuntarily several times before his eyes finally drifted closed of their own accord and a tickling sensation passed through his entire body.

"NIC connection confirmed. System test complete. All nerve connections satisfactory. Brain control centers contacted and confirmed. All system functions nominal. New pilot detected. Synchornizing... synchro... synchronizing complete. Welcome, Kira Yamato." Kira's eyes snapped open, and the Pulsar's own red ocular lenses flashed brilliantly in the flame light of the hangar. It was like activating the SEED... an entire universe seemed to explode into being inside his head. He was seeing without seeing, feeling without feeling... he could sense the FPR beating just like his heart, calm and quiet at the moment but ready for instant activation. The entire control system became almost instantly intuitive and obvious to him, even the flight controls. "Gravity Reduction System online, Positron Reflector Shield system test green. All weapon checks sat. FPR now operating at five percent power. Pulsar, ready for launch."

"This is incredible..." Kira examined his... the Pulsar's... right arm, holding it up and twisting it from side to side. Dimly he remained aware of his own body, hanging limp in the gel filled cockpit, but it was hardly even a tiny distraction. He took two steps forward, marveling at how easy and natural it was... just like walking down a street. He knew he was commonly considered to be one of the best if not the best mobile suit pilot alive when using machines with standard controls... and he knew he could never have walked like he just had anyway. It just wasn't possible with foot pedals and a joystick. The sound of an explosion from outside brought him back to the here and now. He opened a line to the Archangel's bridge. "This is Kira, in the Pulsar..."

"Kira!? What the HELL did that machine do to my ship!?" Murrue demanded. Video comms were still down, so she couldn't see him, but she tried to give him an evil eye just the same. Given recent actions, Kira's stock amongst the feminine portion of the Archangel looked to be heading for rock bottom.

"I'm taking off now. Hopefully I'll be back shortly and I might even be able to explain a few things." Kira closed the line. Hanging up on a ship's captain was never a good idea, but he wasn't spoiled for the time to listen to them all bombard him with questions right now. "All right then... lets see what this thing can do... maximum power, taking... OFF!"

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"What the fuck was that, a bomb?" Ysak shouted, picking the Duelist up from the ground where the shockwave had tossed him. One moment they'd all been engaged with Frost in the Fury a few hundred meters away from the Archangel, the next everyone was scattered like leaves in a strong gale, and now clouds of dust and other debris sifted around the area, just like some unimaginably powerful explosive had gone off. But there was no mushroom cloud, no huge fireball slowly expanding out of the ground... just the Archangel and its trench and the Clyne Faction mobile suits and Frost.

"More like a sonic boom!" Dearka replied jerkily. "My audio sensors are down, is it some sorta new weapon? I didn't think sonics had been developed for battlefield use yet!?"

"This is the Archangel... Kira launched just a moment ago in the Pulsar, but he's no longer on any of our sensors... does anyone else see him?" Katie cut in frantically. "He's out of range of both me and Lacus too for that matter."

"I don't see anything on the LRR... he might be using some sort of stealth system, but according to my instruments the Pulsar isn't within ten kilometers. Switching to extreme range... holy fuck!" Miriallia swore. "34km? WHEN DID HE LAUNCH AGAIN?"

"Not more than about six seconds ago..."

"That's impossible... the acceleration would have killed him." Athrun said, keeping a wary eye on Frost, who was likewise looking around for whatever it was that had disrupted their engagement. "Besides, anything going anywhere close to 6km/sec in atmosphere should have burned up like a meteorite... thats more than six times the speed of sound at sea level!"

"I don't have answers, just data!" Miriallia replied.

"NO TIME!" Ysak cried, blasting three quick shots at the Fury, all of which were dodged with almost mocking ease. Apparently Frost, not detecting any new enemies, had decided to just shelve the issue of whatever the disruption was until later, and he had started advancing on the Archangel again while they'd been discussing whatever it was that Kira had managed to do. "Bad enough when he had near impenetrable armor, at least I hit him then..." Ysak complained. The Fury spun like a top and deployed the six wire guided Gesichmedig-Panzer deflector shield pods that normally nestled on its front and rear torso. Pod's circling like tiny moons, Frost put away his beam rifles and snapped out a beam sword in each hand. With no further warning he charged, heading straight for the Grand Buster, bounding over the landscape like a deranged cheetah. Ysak fired several more shots and then cursed vilely as the circling pods caught and deflected the beams, not just once but two or three times, so that Ysak's shots ended up bouncing at Athrun, forcing the Righteous to scramble backwards in an ungainly stumble to avoid flying head on into the beams as he attempted to close to within melee range.

"Damn it!" Dearka blasted with a snap shot from the 400mm anti armor shotgun, which Frost leapt aside from so quickly it was almost like he turned into a mirage. Miriallia tried to hound the BCPU with the shoulder beam cannons, but she was frustratingly slow, her shots tearing up the ground a good two or three strides behind the Tiamat machine. It was like trying to draw a bead on a jackrabbit moving at 4x fast forward. Dearka twisted the Grand Buster into a violent gyration and tried to at least slow Frost down by saturating the area with his missile volleys and a second shot from the shotgun, but the Fury weathered the few missile hits with ease and changed course so abruptly that Ysak actually overshot by a good ten meters when he tried to rush in with his sword. Dearka and Miriallia's eyes both grew wide as the Fury suddenly seemed to appear in front of them, with their weapons canted in the wrong directions and their machine unbalanced. The Fury's arms seemed to move in slow motion as the swords started swinging down, but then Frost was forced to veer off at the last minute when Cagalli used her own missile systems to literally blast the Fury away from the Grand Buster. The Grand Buster took a few hits in the process, but Dearka would gladly take a bit of a battering to getting split like a melon.

"Beams are no good!" Cagalli yelled, proving the point with a shot from her Ion cannon, which Frost adroitly redirected with his pods so that it neatly sliced the right shoulder beam cannon turret from the Grand Buster. Cagalli dropped the bulky rifle and yanked out her beam Glaive. "We're just causing problems for ourselves as long as he's got those pods working... ACK!" the Strike Rubicon fell backwards in a desperate attempt to avoid the two beam tipped grapples Frost had fired at her from his left arm. One missed wide by a scant few feet, the other pierced the Rubicon through the right shoulder, destroying the missile tubes there and anchoring firmly. Frost started reeling himself in towards the Rubicon like it was a fish he'd harpooned. Even as he did so, he fired off his other six beam grapples, guiding the projectiles through chaotically looping trajectories that were almost impossible for the Coordinators to predict. Dearka avoided any damage to the Grand Buster itself, but he lost his anti armor shotgun in the process. Athrun avoided the two that came for him altogether, and detached his wingsabers in the process, sending them circling out wide in preparation for a joint attack. Ysak fared the best of them all.

His CIWS intercepted the first grapple to come for him and blew it away to land limply on the grass, far short of its target. The other he glanced away with his own sword and then brought the whirring chainsaw edge of his shield around in a lightning fast maneuver to shred the cable the grapple trailed, amputating the beam tipped head cleanly. Ysak then fired his own beam grapples at the Fury, though Ysak did not guide the projectiles by hand, instead following up with a volley of missiles and a brace of railgun blasts. Frost ducked under the railgun blasts and crabbed the Fury forward in a jolting dodge, then swatted two of the missiles from the air with his beam sabers. He proved that he was not invincible when four more missiles in quick succession caught the Fury in its chest and sent it staggering backward a step or two, but no one was able to react fast enough to take advantage of the momentary loss of balance. The GP pods swarmed together in an interlocking shield that deflected all three of Ysak's beam grapples, sending them sprawling uselessly in the dirt like limp noodles, even as Frost continued winding himself in towards the Rubicon, despite Cagalli's best efforts to break away, though the cable was at such an awkward angle her beam glaive couldn't align to hit it properly.

Athrun's wingsabers came jetting in from the north and south, while Athrun came screaming down from above in a thruster assisted dive, double bladed beam saber in hand and shoulder railguns spitting yellow tracers in steady volleys. As the wingsabers approached to within 150 meters they opened fire with their twinned 75mm cannons and missile 20 racks, and then started corkscrewing as they activated their wingtip beam sabers. Frost blocked Athrun's slamming sword and shield with his own blades, while his GP pods whirled apart and then reformed into two seperate tri-shields, each of which drifted square into the path of a wingsaber unit and deflected it aside, though the impact did send the pods flying uncontrollably for several seconds, which was more than long enough for Athrun to slice backward with one blade and snip the cable connecting the Fury to the Rubicon in the same motion as he shield charged Frost once more, twisting the twin bladed beam saber in his other hand to cut twice at the Fury even as he closed in.

Frost blocked Athruns beam saber attacks and rolled with the shield slam so that he was already turning even as it hit, a beam saber swinging around backhand to slice through both barrels of Athrun's shoulder mounted railguns, almost taking the Righteous's head in the same movement if not for a frantic duck on Athrun's part. Frost took the backward momentum the shield slam gave him and used it to dive backward, a beam saber spearing out to cut a deep gouge through the top of Ysak's barely interposed shield as Frost threw himself at the Duelist, which had been charging in from the flank. The Fury crashed into the Duelist and sent them both sprawling, with the BCPU on top. Unable to attack with his beam sabers, Frost nonetheless landed several heavy blows with his elbows and knees that rocked Ysak in his cockpit almost like they'd been delievered to him in person. Rolling off the stunned Duelist, the Fury barely managed to avoid yet another furious beam saber attack from the Righteous, the attack missed its intended target but still pared out both beam grapples from the right leg of the Fury.

Showing his typical disregard for injuries or close calls, Frost immediately went on the attack again, beam sabers hacking and slashing at the Righteous in a flurry of attacks that forced Athrun completely on the defensive, shield and sword both darting to and fro desperatly trying to intercept the seemingly endless barrage of attacks. Though seemingly engrossed in the butchering of the Righteous, Frost showed he was more than adept at multitasking when Ysak slowly brought the Duelist back to its feet, only to go crashing down again when Frost fired three of his GP pods directly into the face and upper torso of the Duelist, the unexpected physical impacts crushed Ysak's primary sensor array and disabled both his head mounted CIWS while also knocking him down again with screens sparking and flashing violently. The unorthodox attack did have a cost for Frost though, as one shield pod drifted limply to the ground afterward, its lift systems shattered in the impact, though its shield remained active.

"Clear out! I can't get a goddamn shot with you right next to him!" Dearka demanded, eye glued to his targeting scope as he aimed his 250mm hyper impulse cannon at the melee.

"He's just gonna deflect it anyway!" Athrun shouted back, sweat pouring from his face, eyes washed out in SEED mode already. It was all he could do to slowly back the Righteous away from the raging Fury as it hamered at him again and again with its beam sabers. Even talking was a bad idea, the slight distraction causing three seperate attacks to almost slip through his defenses to score slight burn marks on his thighs and chest.

"I've got a plan!" Dearka retorted. "Mir, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Rarely..." Mir replied.

"The shield pod!" Dearka called.

"Now wait a minute..."

"NOW!" Athrun yelled, dropping his shield and kicking it into the Fury's face while simultaneously throwing the Righteous into a headlong backwards dive. Not quite sure yet what Dearka was talking about, Mir nonetheless opened up with her remaining beam cannon and all four missile racks, aiming for the Fury once more. Predictably, the five circling pods interposed themselves, taking missile hits and sending the beam blast careening away to cut a long diagonal heat scorch across Cagalli's shield. However, that was all that Dearka had needed her to do, by drawing Frost's attention for a brief moment to the ineffectual attack. He switched his aim at once, as soon as he felt the missiles leave their tubes, and targeting the GP pod trailing in the dust a few dozen meters behind the Fury, its shield still active. The hyper impulse shot lanced down towards the ground, a clear miss... but then bounced up with no warning at all, like a golf ball hitting a hummock, slipping underneath the swooping pods Frost tried to divert at the last second. The Fury flinched and took the blast on its left arm instead of in the groin, the limb wavering and then dissolving in the hellish energies of the blast like it was made of wax.

"I GOT HIM!" Dearka cheered, even though it was just a limb, in this fight it stacked the deck pretty heavily in their favor. His elation was short lived however, as the Grand Buster's threat display suddenly went crazy with all sorts of new icons appearing on it. "What the f..."

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Roughly three minutes earlier, the Pulsar had exited the Archangel's hanger moving at flank speed, which in atmosphere topped out at roughly 6km per second... any faster and the specially developed friction reducing armor plates would cease to be effective, thus resulting in the machine turning into a fireball as friction heat melted it apart. Still, 6km/sec is not by any means slow (21600 km/hr or close to 13000mph), and it was far faster than Kira had expected. By the time he realized just how fast he was going and tried to stop, he'd already passed beyond the island where the Archangel had crashed, out into the Pacific ocean proper, past the gathered Isolation fleets by several miles. He'd actually flow through two ships, a cruiser and a fuel tanker, the Pulsar protecting itself from harm through action memory activating the Positiron Reflector shields before the impacts... though the Pulsar was moving fast, the anti-matter annihilation of the shield moved at light speed itself, which was massively faster. The hyper-sonic boom from his passing had capsized two further destroyers and had raised a roostertail of water almost six hundred feet tall in a line almost fifteen miles long. The Pulsar stopped dead with almost no deccelleration and Kira had almost a full second to gasp in incomprehension before his own sonic boom caught up to him and knocked the Pulsar sprawling through the air like a cartoon comic actor.

"Okay... what the fuck was that!?" Eric Kellson grumbled angrily, picking himself up off the flight deck of the AFNS _Victorious_, on which he'd been standing, enjoying a last few minutes of tropical sunlight before going down to the ready room to get the briefing for the Isolation of Orb. But then something like the mother of all windstorms had come up from nowhere along with a thundercrack like the world splitting in half and he'd suddenly found himself on his back a good thirty feet away from where he'd been standing, with the massive super-carrier swaying underneath him like a rowboat in a winter storm. Rain pattered down all over him, soaking him in a matter of seconds and causing him to spit from the horribly briny taste of the water. All sorts of alarms, ranging from collision to general emergency to man overboard were blaring from the ship's announcing systems. Other ships were having similar troubles he guessed, from the way the alarms echoed and seemed to come from all around him. He finally spotted the gargantuan roostertail of water and his mouth dropped wide open. "What in the name of..."

"A new enemy weapon!?" an Admiral, the commander of the _Victorious,_ cried in shock. "We didn't have any sort of warning, nothing on the radar or other sensors... but the _Abraham Stokes_ and the _Grumbler_ are both destroyed, while the _Vincent J. Jones_ and the _Fidelity_ are capsized and sinking! Most of the rest of the task force ships are reporting various amounts of casualties and scores of people are overboard... even the submarines are reporting casualties from the shockwave!"

"We have no way of knowing." Ashino replied, holding himself calm, though he was as surprised as anyone. It was entirely against the Orb national character and code of ethics to open fire without issuing warnings first, and besides that they'd seen no evidence of any sort of new installation or weapon being moved into place. And for all its shocking suddenness, it didn't feel like an attack... why leave the core fleet strengths untouched while taking out a mere four auxilarly ships if you had a weapon with the power he'd just seen? "Is there any change in the engagement we were tracking earlier?"

"The Archangel is still down, sir. We're not quite sure what happened, but it looks to be severely damaged. Analysis of long range sensor records gives us reason to believe they were ambushed from below, but details are impossible to give at this range. We're tracking several mobile suits engaged in combat near the crash location though. Thermal signatures confirm the Righteous, the Duelist, the Grand Buster, the Strike Rubicon and the Fury."

"The Fury?" Ashino narrowed his eyes. Things were starting to fall into place. Everyone had been immensely cheered when the Archangel suddely veered off and then crash landed during its advance on the Isolation fleet. No one could figure out what was wrong, though theories had ranged from catastrophic engineering failure to sudden mutiny by the crew. Now, with the Fury obviously on the scene, Ashino felt far more sure that the Archangel had indeed been attacked, ambushed by Tiamat. Quite how Asmodeus and Frost had known where to be lying in wait was not something Ashino understood, though he supposed there were a limited number of places the Orb fleet could hope to engage the Isolationist forces with even a slim chance of success, and Asmodeus might just have picked the most likely of them and gotten lucky. He was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, as the saying went. If Tiamat wanted to take out the Archangel, he wasn't going to complain, though their aid wouldn't stop him from snuffing them out like vermin afterwards anyway. "What about the rest of the Orb forces?"

"Still holding station. They appear to be more confused than we are, sir. We're getting a lot of communication traffic directed at the Archangel, but we haven't intercepted any sort of reply yet. They look to be preparing to launch some mobile suits to assist the Clyne Faction machines, but at this range, with the islands in the way, its still hard to keep accurate track of them."

"Do we retaliate, sir?" the Admiral pressed. "We're not going to get a much better opportunity than this."

"Retaliate? I'm not convinced we've been attacked yet." Ashino shook his head. "They still have a few hours before the deadline ends. I will not order offensive action against Orb until then, unless I am undeniably convinced they have attacked us first."

"But sir..." The Admiral protested.

"Sai was very specific, Admiral. No offensive actions are to be taken until the deadline is up, unless we are irrefutably attacked first. Think about it... does this feel like an attack? Where's the follow up? Why did they not target the carriers? Why didn't we have any warning, not even a thermal or magnetic buildup... something's not right here, and I will not break the President's policy until I'm convinced it's necessary, and what has happened so far HAS NOT convinced me."

"Commander Ashino, sir! We've got a new contact on our long range radar. Matching thermal profile... searching..." The sensor technicians voice trailed off. "Sir... its the Reaper, sir! Nothing else in our records puts out anywhere close to that much heat!"

"Its the what!?" The Admiral shouted, dumbfounded.

"ZAFT's Gundam!?" Ashino gasped, now totally confused. The Archangel was fighting Tiamat, his own forces had been disrupted by some unknown force, and now ZAFT's missing Gundam had shown up out of nowhere? As Eric would sometimes say... something was Fucked Up. "Where is it!?"

"It's behind us, sir! Its approaching rapidly... never seen any mobile suit move that fast! He's twenty kilometers out... nineteen five... nineteen... eighteen five... holy fuck... he's going at least Mach 2!!"

"Scramble! All pilots to their machines! All ships prepare for anti-mobile suit combat! Scramble, Scramble!" the Admiral, a veteran of the previous war, barked at once. "I assume you don't have a problem with us attacking a ZAFT machine, do you sir?" The Admiral asked, as the battle stations alert blared again and again, even though all hands were already at battle stations.

"None whatsoever!" Ashino called back, already leaving the bridge. "You're in command until I get back, Admiral. But you'd better not initiate an attack on Orb unless you clear it with me first, or the deadline ends, do you understand? I'll be in the Independence if you need to contact me."

"All right, what the fuck is all the commotion!?" Eric asked as Ashino barged into the ready room just off the main forward hanger bay of the _Victorious_, already shrugging into his flight suit even as he walked. "Sir." Eric added belatedly, eyeing the barely visible scars on his commander's back before the flight suit covered them up. "Nail marks... I didn't need to see that." Eric muttered to himself.

"Not from Jean." Ashino replied at once. Eric cursed himself for forgetting that the commander could likely hear a pin drop across a room through a closed door. "As for the commotion, well guess what just appeared on our long range scopes?"

"Fuckin Valkyries, sir, you know I ain't got the cognitive skills you do."

"You sell yourself a little short, Captain. But no, its the ZAFT Gundam." Ashino flicked his eyes over to Eric, making sure he was okay, because of the strangled choking that suddenly came from him. "I have no idea what it's doing here, but we're not going to let it get away. We're launching as soon as we can... given it's speed its still going to pass over us before we deploy, but I've a hunch it's also headed for the Archangel."

"A hunch?"

"A hunch."

"Fuckin A..."

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_I can't believe this. I feel like I'm loafing along, but I'm still going three times faster than the Liberty at maximum thrust. What's the idea behind creating a machine like this? It's so powerful its almost impossible to control. I can't process fast enough to make use of it's abilities at anywhere near its maximum levels. There's no way I'm ever going to get the thrusters to flank speed again... who knows what I'd do then... I don't want to fly into a mountain or something going that fast... it'd be like a meteor strike. But the maneuverability... I went from flank to stop in less than a second... I should be dead. WHAT IS THIS THING!?_ Kira's thoughts crossed and jumbled together so much it almost hurt. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was more than just his thoughts, that the Pulsar was trying to tell him something. _Not a OS for the introspective, I guess... OWW! Alright, alright..._ "It's the Isolationist Fleet. So what? They aren't going to be a problem for a few more hours. Say what else you can about him, Sai is a man of his word, and so are his people. They will attack when the deadline is over, not a moment sooner. Carpentaria proved that." It felt stupid talking to a machine, but no more stupid than when he talked to Lacus when she was in his head.

Even as he looked down from an altitude of several thousand feet, he watched the icons representing the Isolationist Fleet on the status display that was somehow inside his head suddenly blur and multiply. "What the... oh... yeah I suppose that is what I'd do in their place, if I saw a ZAFT machine fly overhead." Kira watched as dozens and then scores of mobile suits began deploying from the carriers and other motherships, along with regular jets and heavier mobile armors. "But so what... even the fighter jets can't go close to fast enough to catch us... me... whatever..." Kira turned his attention back towards the Archangel. This proved to be a mistake, not that Kira could have possibly known. It brought his intentions into conflict with the Pulsar's action memory regarding the proper actions to undertake when threatened by Isolationist mobile suits. Kira was totally unprepared for the sudden wash of blazing agony that caused his preceptions to white out. It felt like his entire being was being hollowed up by liquid fire. _Am I dy..._ Kira snapped back to awareness, panting ever so slightly, before he could finish that frightened thought. Then he saw his surroundings and his world seemed to drop away from him.

He was standing on the deck of an aircraft carrier, the gigantic two handed beam sword held confidently in one hand, a segmented 25 meter chain of superheated metal links descended from his other wrist. Flak explosions dotted the sky overhead and missile contrails criss-crossed the air nearby. The destroyed remains of four Isolationist Cavaliers lay on the flight deck of the carrier at his feet, while the bridge of the carrier itelf was nothing more than a flaming ruin. The burnt and crushed remains of more than two score crewmembers lay sprawled across the flight deck inbetween raging fuel fires and jagged edged holes. Two destroyers were keeled over nearby, leaking flaming oil into the ocean in rivers, their twisted superstructures looking half melted as they slowly slipped beneath the waves. There were no signs of lifeboats. Strike Dagger JA's and Cavalier's circled at a safe distance while ships steamed away from the carrier at flank speed in all directions, some nearly colliding with each other in their haste to get away. A glance at the chronometer showed only ten seconds had elapsed. "What... what happend...?" Kira murmured, his eyes catching on the Cavaliers nearby.

The cockpits had been stabbed through in three cases, and smashed/melted in the fourth case. Even Kira couldn't decieve himself into believing the pilots had survived those attacks. "No... no! DAMN IT NO!!" Kira screamed. "I killed them! I swore I'd never kill anyone who didn't absolutely deserve it ever again... but I killed these people! I murdered them! I'm not even breathing hard and they're all dead! What the hell did you make me do!? How the hell did this happen!?" Kira demanded. The Pulsar didn't reply. It didn't really have a voice, it just had its action memory. If it could be said to be anything, satisfied would probably be the best term for it. "Damn it, how did this happen!?"

_"It is not safe to use. I hate to say it like this, but that machine is evil." _Lacus's words echoed in his thoughts. "_It has a presence. It's not strong, but its there. I can see it just like I can see your own mind, it just takes a little more looking. And I don't like what I see. It thirsts for combat. It desires it. That machine scares me, Kira. We should have gotten rid of it a while ago."_ "Damn it, she was right! This was stupid! How could I have let myself do this? Damned evil machine... you forced me to break my oath never to kill! I... I can't believe I'm swearing at a mobile suit..." The world went white again at that moment. _Fuc..._ The whiteness faded. Kira was almost afraid to look this time, but he forced himself to. "No..." he shook the Pulsar's head from side to side in denial, trying to refute the fact that there was currently a Cavalier impaled on his sword, right through the cockpit, as the Pulsar stood amid the ruins of a cruiser that was slowly sinking under the weight, its hull shattered and leaking in dozens of spots. "I won't LET THIS HAPPEN!" Kira shouted. The world went white again with pain, and it stayed like it as he poured all his considerable will into a battle for control with the Pulsar's action memory.

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"Dude... I mean, sir... we can't keep sending people at that guy, its like sticking your hand into a running wood chipper." Eric commented, wiping sweat off his brow as he circled his Templar around, about one hundred meters outside what the ZAFT pilot evidently considered his own personal no fly zone. In less than a minute the ZAFT Gundam had sunk three cruisers, two destroyers and a carrier and destroyed almost twenty mobile suits in the process. In return, they hadn't even managed to scatch him, due to whatever sort of invisible shield mechanism the ZAFT Gundam evidently projected from its palms. Whatever it was, it was more powerful than a Lightwave barrier, nothing they threw at it even made it flicker. They were trying to get FRALA units in position, but it was going to take at least ten or fifteen minutes.

"I refuse to accept defeat from a single opponent, no matter how powerful his Gundam is." Ashino gritted his teeth, fighting his own frustration. He remembered the briefing Cyprus had given him and Sai about this machine, and realized he'd still managed to badly underestimate it. If not for a surprising degree of hesitation on the part of the ZAFT pilot, extremely strange for someone piloting such an obviously overwhelming machine, Ashino wouldn't have been surprised if his task force had been forced to retreat. "You have a point though. Head on assault is getting us nothing but casualties. Though it's strange... with such power, why hasn't the pilot done more... he could have killed three times as many of us if he didn't spend so much time just standing around."

"I can't say as to that, sir, but even I'm starting to think that maybe he's not fully in control of that thing, whoever he is. My grasp of tactics is far from brilliant, but he's just hitting whatever comes close to him, like hes acting only on instinct or memory or something." Eric replied. "It's like he can't figure out what he wants to do now that he's here."

"Well, lets ask him then." Ashino decided. "Normally I'm not much of one for talking with my enemies... I leave that sort of nonsense to Yamato and his ilk... but this is hardly a normal situation." Ashino tuned his comm system to broadcast and recieve on most commonly used channels, including the emergency and international bands. It would let anyome with even half an ear within twenty miles listen in to his conversation, but Ashino didn't much mind right at the moment. "This is Commander Markov Ashino of the Isolationist 1st CAD, calling the unidentified ZAFT Gundam currently engaged with my task force. Identify yourself, ZAFT pilot, and state your purpose for interfering with our mission." Ashino listened to the hiss of static for several seconds. The ZAFT Gundam didn't even turn to look at him, though the Independence could hardly be missed as a command model mobile suit, given its size and unique look. "This Commander Ashino, in the Independence, calling the pilot of the ZAFT Gundam attacking my fleet. State your name and purpose and surrender quietly. We have you surrounded and massively outnumbered. Even your machine cannot hope to handle us all alone..." Privately Ashino wasn't one hundred percent sure of that, but there was no point in showing his lack of confidence.

"I think he's calling our bluff, sir... FRALA teams report they won't be in posit..." Eric started to say, but before he could even finish his sentence, the ZAFT Gundam was gone. Eric blinked. "Where the..." The sonic boom struck his Templar and sent it flailing backwards through the air to splash into the water below. Eric wasn't harmed, nor was his mobile suit, but the already damaged cruiser the ZAFT machine had been standing on was broken into pieces that were rapidly slipping beneath the surface even as his Templar regained the air. The Independence had weathered the turbulence more equitably than the Templar's and other mobile suits around due both to its far greater size and mass, and to the consummate skills of its pilot. "Doesn't even have to fuckin hit us, the bastard just gotta hit the afterburners and we all go flying!" Eric complained.

"It's... very unwieldy..." Ashino said quietly, even as he started the Independence in pursuit of the ZAFT Gundam, which was even now inscribing a long arc is it coasted down from low orbit towards the island where the Archangel was crashed. "Speed is all well and good... but there is a point past which speed is more a hindrance than a help. No one can possibly react when moving so fast... not even me or Frost." Ashino shook himsel from his thoughts. "All forces, this is Commander Ashino. Pursue that mobile suit and destroy it. Use extreme caution, but do not let the enemy escape if at all possible."


	91. The Isolation, Balance Point

When the first shockwave hit, right as the port Lohengrin blew itself to smithereens, Alkire had been sitting in the cockpit of the Skygrasper, doing another preflight check to fill the time, swapping tall tales with the head mechanic, Chief Murdoch, who was very adamantly a AMC (Aviations Machinist Chief Petty Officer) not a MMC (Machinist Mate Chief Petty Officer). The Navy was very picky about things like that... they didn't just have mechanics, they had at least four or five different type of mechanics, though they all did basically the same thing, as in being responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of the mechanical and sometimes electrical systems under their purview. Apparently the prime difference, as far as Alkire could see, was the AMC's worked in the hangar, while MMC's worked in engineering, though of course Murdoch had done both during times when the Archangel was short staffed. Maybe that was why everyone just called him Chief. It made things less complicated. Their pleasant conversation was totally ruined when Murdoch was suddenly tossed forty feet across the hangar bay into a tangle of crash netting, while the Skygrasper itself jerked free of its moorings and slid across the hangar floor, almost crushing Murdoch as it too slammed into the starboard bulkhead, along with ninety percent of everything in the hangar that was not bolted to the deck.

Strapped into his control chair, and clad in the durable combat flight suit to boot, Alkire suffered nothing more than a few light bruises from the unexpcted turbulence... which even as he thought it he realized wasn't turbulence, judging by the sound of the alarms that were wailing and the way all the lights had gone away and were only slowly returning. "You okay, Chief!?" Alkire yelled, digging at his harness buckle releases. "I think we're under attack!"

"Nah, you coulda fooled me!" Murdoch rejoined sarcastically. "I'm alive, and I'll be just FINE... AFTER someone gets this FUCKING JET off my THIGHS!" Until then though, Murdoch reflected, he was pretty much stationary. And his arm was probably broken, but he was doing his best not to think about that. It was right about this time when the Archangel suddenly listed sharply to port as it systems regained their balance for a brief moment, only to discover that the port altitude thrusers were pretty much gone and entirely nonfunctional anyway. "Oh, BALLS!"

The Skygrasper slid back the other way across the hangar, along with all the other loose gear and people that had just been collecting themselves from the tumble against the starboard bulkhead. Alkire had just been standing up in order to get out of the cockpit and he almost fell face first out of the jet, managing to catch himself at the last moment using his legs, so he was only hanging half in-half out instead. The Skygrasper slammed into the port bulkhead this time, just forward of the sliding doors that lead into the cross-ship maintenance bay that connected the port and starboard hangers. Alkire was briefly pelted by bolts, wrenches and other assorted mechanical debris and then a heavy but yielding weight slammed into his back hard enough to loosen his legs where they were wedged into the corners of the cockpit and he dropped headfirst onto the deck about five feet below. Fortunately his helmet was already on, but it still wasn't a fun thing to do, even if whoever had crashed into him broke most of the impact from his back down to his legs.

"Uhh... that you, Chief?" Alkire groaned, more than a little woozy. He didn't receive an immediate reply, so he cautiously shifted around, testing his body for broken bones or other serious injuris, of which there were thankfully none. There were advantages to being in a padded and semi-armored flight suit and helmet. Advantages that Murdoch, in his coveralls, didn't share. The Chief was lying on the deck, one arm twisted back at a real bad angle, with a bloody nose and smashed lips and a few minor cuts on his face, not to mention one serious bruise on his forehead. His eyes were closed and though he was visibly breathing, it was equally obvious that Chief Murdoch was currently in dreamland. "Damn it, Chief, wake the fuck up!"

"This is the starboard hangar! We've got a lot of wounded here... we need help!" Alkire heard another mechanic yelling into the intercomm system. Murdoch was far from the only injured man... in fact the injured outnumbered the noninjured, though Alkire could only see a few bad cases... one compound thigh fracture, one back injury, and two guys who wouldn't be needing medical help, because their necks were snapped in a way Alkire could instantly recognize as unsurvivable. Alkire slowly climbed to his feet, casting a wincing eye over the Skygrasper as he did so...the left wing was all but bent in half, while the right wing was warped and torns as well. He could probably get airborne, but it would be much more ballistic than controlled.

"Hey! Is it just me, or does it feel like we're sinking!?" another mechanic hollered. Everyone frroze for a few moments. "BALLS!" three or four people shouted at once, one of Chief Murdoch's favorite ways of expressing serious bad shit going down.

"EVERYBODY HANG ON TO SOMETHIN', WE'RE GOIN' DOWN!" another senior mechanic yelled, seeing that Murdoch was down and thus leaving him in charge. "Hang onto the wounded as best you can, don't let them go flying around the hanger!"

"ALL HANDS, REPEL BOARDERS. REPEL BOARDERS!" That 1MC (shipwide intercomm) announcement caused everyone to freeze in their tracks again. They didn't even run repel boarders drills, it was frankly considered at best a fanciful scenario. After all, who could board an armored warship in flight?

"You gotta be kid...!" The senior mechanic started to yell, but thats when the bottom dropped out of the world and the Archangel made its first re-acquaintence with the surface. Alkire couldn't make much sense of his surroundings... everything was flying everywhere, bouncing of walls, off mobile suits, off other flying things... it was all he could do to hang onto Murdoch so the unconscious Chief didn't do the same thing. As it was he couldn't avoid slamming the Chief's broken arm into the deck or bulkhead a few times, though he did manage to keep the Chief's head and neck still to prevent any more damage to those vital regions. The first impact was bad. The second impact felt like the entire ship was coming apart at the seams. The third impact SOUNDED like the entire ship was coming apart at the seams, though Alkire knew from the sounds that it was just the Archangel carving out a trench through some fortunately NOT solid granite ground. It wasn't some of his prouder memories, but he'd had occasion to be in more than one crashing plane over the course of his life... he knew what the various sounds meant anyways.

At length... probably not more than ten or twenty seconds, the sounds and shaking stopped. The Archangel had come to rest at last. Lighting was down, but the red emergency lights were mostly coming back on, allowing at least a minimum ability to see. The lurid light of blossoming fires in the mechanical storage bays nearby added some additonal illumination, though Alkire could certainly have gone without that form of help... those bays were close to where the ammo and jet fuel was stored, and those were two things you never wanted to be near open flames. Alkire slowly lowered Murdoch to the deck in a location where he wouldn't be easily stepped on and then started pushing his way through the milling mechanics and damage control personnel towards the doorway that led back into the main part of the ship. Sirens were blaring, everyone was shouting at once, flames were crackling and secondary explosions went off every few seconds, though they were muffled by distance. In short, it was a pretty accurate look at pure chaos.

"You three! Come with me now! That's a direct order!" An imperious but obviously worried and instantly familiar voice ordered. Alkire peered through the gloom and managed to pick out a very distressed looking Cagalli Zala-Attha across the hangar, beckoning frantically at the three closest Damage Control responders. "Bring rope, medical supplies, prybars and flashlights and follow me!" She ordered. The crewmen looked at each other and shrugged, then complied. One was not too likely to get bawled out for following a direct order from your national leader after all. Alkire contemplated trying to get her attention, but by the time he opened his mouth she was gone, disappearing on whatever her own mission was. Alkire gave a mental shurg and continued working his way towards the hangar exit. The medical and damage control crews needed help, but he couldn't ignore the danger of a "Repel Boarders" alarm, something that was clearly not in the ability of the regular Archangel crew to deal with. He just hoped he and Victor and Raine could make a big enough difference.

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Victor peered around another hatchway and nearly lost his head to spray of bullets from the Tiamat goons working with Asmodeus. Again. He cursed his lack of preparedness, but even he hadn't expected the Archangel to be boarded while in flight to a combat zone. He was down with just his combat essentials, not all the specialty tools he would normally use or want to have with him when fighting in narrow corridors and cramped quarters inside a ship. For instance he really wanted a shotgun right now, not the tactical SMG and pistol he had. There was nothing like filling a deckway with a cloud of shotgun pellets to ensure it was safe before you made your next dash from cover. A bunch of smoke or tear gas grenades would be nice too, though from his few brief glimpses of the foe, they looked to be equipped with full face masks, undoubtedly with gas filters and HUD optics. And finally, a goddamn mirror on a wand, so he could look around fucking corners without getting his head almost shot off.

He took stock of what he did have as he mentally counted through the seconds, waiting for the Tiamat goons to make their own movements towards cover as they steadily progressed towards the ship's Engineering decks. He had his SMG, with ten more forty round magazines for it, plus one half full one in the weapon itself. He had a 9mm pistol with six fifteen shot clips. He had his own full face mask, his emergency pack of bomb making/disarming supplies, an abbreviated medical kit, body armor, four flash bang grendes and his combat knife. And his saber, though currently it was more a hindrance than help, banging against things and almost tripping him up as he dodged from doorway to doorway. But he couldn't bring himself to just leave it behind, it was almost like a afety blanket item for him, so he just put up with the annoyance. His mental count reached seven and he threw himself through the doorway he'd glanced through before. No hail of bullets. He'd gotten their rythym down, which brought a smug smile to his lips.

These men were on a timetable, or a time constaint anyway. Every fifteen seconds they would stop and cover, watching their backtrail for ten seconds, then they would rinse and repeat. Even though they knew he was following them, had shot at him several times, they didn't break their routine, because they were obviously trying to reach Engineering as fast as possible. It was sloppy. Second rate. Asmodeus clearly hadn't brought his best troops, which was puzzling, because Victor would have wanted his A team for a crazy ass mission like this... unless... "God damn it." Victor realized something. The grenades, the bombs, the fanatical soldiers... Asmodeus didn't plan to get off the ship alive. He was building his own pyre and planning on taking the entire Archangel out with him. He tapped a wall comm, hoping to contact the bridge and inform them of the unpleasant news, but it wasn't working. Little wonder, given the damage the ship had taken even before it fell out of the sky, or before whatever it was had blown out the generators. Initially Victor had thought that to be the fault of Asmodeus and his men, but they were only now just getting near Engineering, so that had shot that theory down. Victor flattened himself against the bulkhead next to the hatchway the Tiamat soldiers had to have gone through.

"Ten." Victor muttered, after doing his count again. He darted through the hatch just as the enemy were turning away and starting their next forward movement. The hallway took a sharp turn about twenty feet away, and Victor knew from his time spent learning the ship that the main hatch to Engineering was only ten feet further down the hallway from that bend. The rearmost Tiamat soldier was just headed around the bend when Victor cleared the hatchway, but even thoug he was no master sniper like Raine, a twenty foot straight shot in a narrow hall wasn't exactly a challenge either. His shots blew out puffs of armor cloth as his fire tracked through the man's back, mixed with two jets of scarlet as lucky bullets struck twice on his lightly armored shoulder area, though Victor could not confirm the kill because the man managed to stumble around the corner, though he'd definitely hurt him. He tapped the magazine release and was just in the process of reloading when something pricked his danger sense.

Working in Victor's line of work for any reasonable amount of time developed a sort of sixth sense in most people. A feeling right before something bad was about to happen, a sensitivity to the calm before a storm. It was never specific, never "there's a man pointing a gun at you behind you", but he definitely knew something bad was about to happen. Victor spun, his unloaded gun coming up to point back through the hatch he'd just dived through, to see the actual rearmost Tiamat soldier just leveling his own assault rifle at him. Asmodeus had compensated for his underlings linear thinking, of course. He should have known better. 'Deus would let him read the pattern, then let him get overconfident, then change it suddenly. It was what he was best at, using the foe against themselves. So he'd had one man hide behind the hatchway opposite the one leading to Engineering, waiting to hear firing before revealing himself to take the enemy in the back. Victor could not fire, so instead he threw his empty gun at the man as hard as he could.

It was only a partially successful gambit. He still felt two hot flashes of pain and several more dull ones as bullets slammed into his torso armor, throwing him backwards off his feet from the sheer kinetic impact. If he'd taken the full burstin the chest he'd have been dead, no two ways about it, but his thrown gun deflected the Tiamat soldier's aim, so instead Victor took two bloody and painful wounds to his lower right torso and right hip and the rest of the burst missed wide. The Tiamat soldier cursed and charged through the hatchways, because now Victor was lying out of his line of sight below the lip of the hatchway. He should have hung back and waited for support, but he was in a hurry to catch up with his leader. It would cost him his life. He was just clearing the second hatchway when Victor's combat knife struck him in the chest. Ballistic cloth like kevlar stops bullets very well. It does jack shit against edged weapons like knives. The knife sank in to the hilt and the Tiamat soldier suddenly had a lot more trouble breathing.

"Don't rush." Victor advised, his pistol rising in his other hand to put three shots into the Tiamat soldier's head, pretty much decapitating him. Victor couldn't relax long though, almost as soon as the corpse collapsed, he heard several metallic clanking sounds from behind him. He cranked his neck around and saw three metallic objects sliding down the passageway towards him. Grenades, from Asmodeus and the other Tiamat soldiers still working on getting through the Engineering door. "Never a fucking break...!" Victor hauled himself through the hatchway as fast as he could, but it was hard... the wounds in his hip and right side were making that leg move very stiffly. He was only most of the way through the hatch when the three concussion grenades detonated. Victor wasn't pulped, since the hatchway took most of the force, but what force went through the open hatch was more than enough to pick him up and throw him across the passageway into the far bulkhead hard enough to make him grey out.

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"Damn it!" Alkire skidded into the lounge area between his and Victor's and Raine's sleeping cubicles, TEMPEST's unofficial ready room. Guns, ammo, explosives and other implements of death and destruction, as well as spare medical kits, pieces of body armor and the odd personal item were all scattered everywhere, tossed by the explosions and crash. Alkire didn't have time to do a full inventory... any boarding action would have two primary goals, which the invading forces would waste absolutely no time in heading after. Engineering and the Bridge. Currently Engineering was on the far end of the ship, and most of the ship's power and flight systems were down anyway, so Alkire had decided to head for the Bridge, seeing it as the real weakness of the ship. Alkire snatched a pistol and a few extra magazines in one hand, and grabbed a backpack with the other. He shoved the pistol and ammo into the bag, not having a proper holster or combat webbing on his flight suit in which to secure them. The next thing he grabbed was a full face mask with gas filters and integral light amplification lenses, so he could see properly again. He slung the bag over his shoulders and then picked up his assault rifle and five magazines, stuffing the ammo into his exterior pockets as he headed towards the bridge at a trot.

He passed several bodies on his way up, all crewmembers with multiple gunshot wounds, or else gore patches where someone might have stood before taking the full force of a frag or high explosive grenade. The explosions he'd heard down in the hangar and thought to be crash related started taking on a whole new light. But why risk damaging a vital system with grenades? Wasn't the whole point of boarding a ship taking it mostly intact? Something fishy was up. He almost tripped rounding another corner, but this corpse wasn't a crewmember. It was a man dressed in black and blue combat body armor, an assault rifle similar to Alkire's own gun lying half empty nearby, lying face down on the ground. It wasn't until Alkire looked twice and realized the corpse was lying on its back, but still face down, that he figured out how he'd been killed, since there was no blood on the ground. "Raine's not exactly helpless in close combat, you silly bugger." Alkire stepped over the man with the broken neck and continued on his way. Still, the sheer number of grenades and other explosive devices that were on the corpse was unnerving... the guy looked ready to blast a path to the bridge through every wall between here and there.

He heard the sudden sound of rapid pistol fire and retailiating full automatic burst fire coming from nearby and slowed his pace. The last thing he needed to do was barge around a corner and step in the middle of a pitched gun battle. It would be especially embarassing to get shot by Raine, since she was likely to just shoot first and ask questions later. Fortunately, his full face mask also had a shortwave radio in it. Reception sucked inside the ship, but he figured if he was close enough to hear the bullets, he was probably close enough for comms. "Raine, honey, you hear me?"

"Fuck, Robert, where the FUCK have you been!?" The reply was interrupted by a blast from what sounded like a concussion grenade. "FUCK!!"

"Where are you!?" Alkire demanded. "I'm at hatch B-2-4-9!" (interior note, A is top level of ship, Z is bottom level, first numeral is what section of ship, 1 being forward, 2 middle forward, 3 mid aft, 4 aft, second numeral is which door headed forward/aft, third numeral is which door headed port/starboard, even numbers port side, odd starboard side)

"I'm at hatch A-1-4-7!" Raine answered, telling him that she was still one level above him, though only a little bit closer to the bridge as the bird flies. Given how loud everything was, that meant he was near a staircase, which clicked with his mental map of the main passages of the Archangel. The doorway to the bridge was A-1-1-1, so that meant the invaders were pretty damn close, only 3 hatches away, on a straight shot to the bridge. "There's two left, both heavily armed and showing no inclinations for focus firing! Some support would be wonderful!"

"On the way, dear. Just try not to shoot the guy in the flight suit." Alkire picked up the pace now that he knew there were no enemies left on this level. He bounded up the staircase three steps at a time, listening to the exchange of fire. It sounded like only two people shooting, one the guy with the automatic rifle, the other Raine with her two pistols. Where was the other guy Raine had seen then? Alkire was pretty sure he knew what he'd be doing if he were that guy, which meant that were really running out of time. The doorway to the bridge was perhaps the most reinforced and secure on the entire ship... but that didn't mean a determined man with plenty of explosives and the will to use them couldn't get in anyway. "Coming out of the stairs." Alkire warned, poking his head around the corner. When he didn't get shot, he shoulder rolled forward and then pressed himself flat against a hatchway. Peering around the corner, he finally made out Raine, pistol in each hand, two hatchways further on. He wasted no further time in hustling up to her, sliding into concealment on the opposite side of the hatch from her.

"Noisy bastard, isn't he?" Alkire commented as the enemy lit their hatchway up with constellations of sparks as he hosed the metal down with full automatic fire. Raine gave a barely perceptible nod, pistols held next to her head as she reloaded them. Alkire noticed that she was always keeping one arm pressed close against the left side of her chest, as much as she could anyway. "You hurt?"

"Scratch." She replied dismissively. "Bastard thought he was clever, sneaking up on me with a knife while his buddies kept me pinned behind a hatch with their guns. As if I didn't know the floor plan of the ship better than them. I gave him a quick lesson in respect for women, but he did get me once."

"Bad?" Alkire pressed.

"A scratch." Raine replied firmly, in her "don't mess with me" voice. "So whats the plan?"

"I just got here."

"Which means you had plenty of time to think on the way up." The bullet rain striking around their hatch slackened off and Raine popped her head and torso around the corner, blasting four quick shots with either pistol and then leaned back into cover. "Damn hatch opens towards us, or else I could have bounced a few into him a while ago."

Alkire thought about mentioning how astronomically bad the chances were of scoring a kill shot on a ricochet, but then again, he wasn't exactly someone good enough to actually TRY for one either. Raine was. He forced himself to think more clearly. "Just one up there, which means his pal is working on the bridge doors as we speak. He's only tossed one or two grenades, which given how many they seem to be carrying means he must have loaned all his spares to his buddy. haven't heard any big bangs yet, but he's gotta be close. Hmm... no two ways about it, this is gonna be real messy."

"You're better with bombs than I am." Raine noted, which Alkire was forced to admit was true. He was a generalist, but Raine was highly specilized in marksmanship and hand to hand, leaving little room for more than basic demolitions training. "You cover, I go."

"Professionally, I agree." Alkire said slowly. However, professionally only went so far. This was Raine, a woman he had more than passing attachment for. They'd had little enough time to indulge more than formalities during the war, but that didn't mean the feeling wasn't there. "Personally..."

"I love you too, Robert." Raine replied. "However, we don't have any choice, do we? Now cover me!" Raine didn't give him any further time to argue, ducking out the door as soon as the incoming fire slackened off again.

"Fucking hell, Raine!" Alkire shouted in frustration, even as he leaned out and started shooting three round bursts past her. It wasn't easy shooting past a running figure in a narrow passageway, and it took all his concentration to do it. Now the ball was in the enemy court. He could do one of two things. The sensible one would be retreat to his friend, where he would have backup of his own. The other would be to try and stop the person charging at his position before she could get close enough to negate his own cover anyway, regardless of the covering fire. The Tiamat soldier went with option number two. Raine was only about three quarters of the way down the passage when a figure in blue and black body armor swung into view at the far hatch, gun up and aimed in one hand, grenade cylinder in the other primed to throw. Alkire tried to get an angle, but Raine was too close, he had no shot. "GET DOWN!" he ordered.

Raine ignored him, instead pumping shots from her left hand pistol into the man's chest and abdomen region, even as shots from her right hand pistol tracked along the arm with the grenade and blew it out of the man's hand, almost blowing the hand off at the same time. The man dropped backward, thrown off balance if not actually killed by the repeated close range pistol shots, which still failed to penetrate his thick frontal torso armor, but it didn't stop him from firing his own gun at Raine. At such close range, even one handed and falling backwards, there was no way the man could miss with everything. Raine was not a particularly small or light woman, but she was still sent spinning backwards through the air from the multiple close range high velocity heavy bullet impacts. Alkire thought her armor caught most of it, but he saw quite a bit more liquid in the air than he wanted to as well. The Tiamat soldier dropped out of view even as Raine fell to the deck in the passageway as Alkire charged forward, firing through the open hatch to keep the enemy pinned for all he was worth.

It didn't turn out to be necessary, because only a few seconds after Raine shot his hand away, the grenade the Tiamat soldier had been holding went off with a tremendous bang, filling the entire room he was in with shards of flying metal shrapnel, some of which even ricocheted into the passageway where Alkire and Raine were. Alkire took several cuts to his arms and legs, one piece even buried itself in his upper right side, but he ignored the brief pain and spurt of blood, dropping to his knees in a slide that carried to him where Raine was lying on the ground. The Tiamat soldier had been shredded by his own grenade, now he had to make sure Raine was all right. There was a lot of blood, but the only gunshot injuries he could see were a graze along her skull, a clean inny-outy on her left collarbone and a fragmenter on her upper right thigh. That one worried him, because of the major blood vessels contained in the thigh, but while the wound was bleeding, it wasn't spurting like a firehose, so it was unlikely her femoral artery was damaged.

He didn't even notice the real injury until he started digging tape and cloth out of her combat gear to make some improvised pressure bandages. "THATS NOT A FUCKING SCRATCH, RAINE!" Alkire stared at the deep stab wound in her left middle torso, a few inches under the breast. The wound was at least two inches long, and who knew how deep. He didn't see any bubbles in the blood streaming out and soaking her shirt, so at least a lung wasn't likely hit, but it was no minor injury either. There were any number of organs that could be damaged, depending on the angle of strike, intestines, liver, stomach and kidney's to mention a few.

"S-sorr...y." Raine mumbled weakly, semi-conscious. At least she was still conscious, though Alkire knew that wouldn't last long, with the amount of blood she was losing. She needed a trained medic and proper equipment, right the fuck now, but neither were available. Like all members of TEMPEST, Alkire was certified in various forms of first aid and even a little bit of battlefield medicine... he could do stitches, tourniquets, set bones, hell, even dig bullets out with sticks or fingers... but deep body cavity stab wounds were beyond his ability to do more than superficially help. "Didn't... hurt... so bad... till just... n...ow."

"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Up or down!?" Alkire's hands were busy taping folded squares of cloth to her other injuries even as he demanded further info while she was still able to talk.

"Taller than me... ... down..."

"Straight or saw edge!?" Alkire stared at the wound. The edges didn't look torn, but most blade serrations didn't run the full length of the blade, so there might only be internal signs. There was no reply. It pained him but he stabbed a thumb into her shoulder gunshot wound. Better than a slap on the face for waking you up suddenly when you started drifting out. The scream she gave out wouldn't do much for his guilt complex later, that was for sure. "Straight or saw edged blade!?"

"... edside manner... traight... ... inded me... of... ... type... type three..." Raine faded again, this time beyond even the remit of a shock waking. But she'd told him what he needed to know. Type three combat knives were common amongst soldiers and other thuggy types that went in for a bit of flash for their cutters. A type three had a blade roughly six inches long with a needle point and a bright mirror "never polish" surface. They were double edged and reminded many of a medieval dagger. They were great knives for putting your initials on and for working wood and other utility uses. For pure stopping power though, Alkire preferred his own type two... shorter, narrower bladde, matte black except for the razor edge, with a one and half edge blade and heavy serrations on the inch to either side of the armor piercing pyramid tip. Not a knife for cutting your food with, or splicing rope or anything else besides stabbing into your enemy and giving them a debilitating wound that would cause massive internal bleeding.

Alkire covered the wound with several squares of cloth ripped from Raine's combat fatigues and put his own flight suit gloves, turned inside out so the absorbent inner liner was out, underneath. Though designed to soak sweat, Alkire bet the gloves would soak blood too and hopefully help stem the stream coming from the wound. He thanked small mercy's because the wound showed no signs of blade twisting, which would have been a true horror to deal with. He taped the compress down and then taped Raine's shirt down over the compress, anything to make sure it stayed in place. And then his first aid was done. Short of taking her down to the ship's corpsman, which would take way too much time, he'd done all he could for her. It was up to her to survive until he could get her proper medical help. And it was up to him to stop the other Tiamat soldier before he blew the bridge to hell and back, and then shot down everyone who lived. He snatched up his rifle and charged forward, throwing caution to the winds. The time spent rending first aid was probably going to cost him dearly, but he couldn't very well have not done it.

Alkire barreled through the final hatchway before the bridge door yelling like a madman, visbily startling the Tiamat soldier crouched by the obviously locked doors to the bridge. The man was obviously no demolitions expert himself, because the eight breaching charges he'd stacked up and taped to the doors were WAY more than sufficient. Alkire wouldn't have used more than two... eight was enough to get through a bank vault door. The backwash from eight breaching charges going off at one probably would have killed the Tiamat soldier anyway, though the effect would have been the same for most everyone on the bridge too, their bodies mushed by the blast overpressure wave even before they were incinerated. Still, the man, for all his lack of demo know-how, had good instincts and reflexes. Even as he jumped his hand was coming around with a pistol in it. Alkire pulled the trigger so hard he thought he would break it off. His gun spat three bullets and then clicked back dry. He'd forgotten to reload it during his mad charge. All three rounds struck the Tiamat soldier square in the chest, but they didn't penetrate the heavy body armor. they did throw the man's aim off so his psitol snap shot breezed past Alkire's head instead of into it.

Alkire wasted no time searching his backpack for the pistol he'd picked up, he threw himself bodily forward and tackled the Tiamat soldier, slamming them both into the bridge door. Alkire drove a knee into the man's gut and slammed the gun hand against the wall as hard as he could, swearing as the man's hand spasmed on the trigger, blasting a round out that buzzed as it bounced around the room. The Tiamat soldier responded by cracking his elbow into Alkire's face and pushing off from the door with both legs, sending them both crashing heavily to the floor. Unable to see clearly because his mask had been knocked askew, Alkire slammed two heavy punches into the off hand armpit of the other guy and then managed to snake a hand up to rip off his own mask. The passageway outside the bridge still had some power, and the mix of red flashing emergency lights and the normal light made for more than enough to see by. the Tiamat soldier grunted with the impact of the punches, but continued wrestling with Alkire, trying to bring his suddenly free gun hand around to get a clear shot, finger squeezing by reflex and sending more bullets bouncing randomly around the room.

Alkire blocked the man's arm with his own forearm even as he headbutted the man ferociously. It hurt, not having head protection, but being on the bottom of a dogpile was the way to lose a fight, not win. Alkire flipped out his trusty combat knife as the Tiamat soldier recoiled from the headbutt, and stabbed upwards into the man's groin and twisted. It had to hurt. It had to hurt bad. The groin had a lot of nerves in it. It was also a psychologically brutal place to hit a guy, especially with a knife. It also had a lot of major blood vessels running into and out of it. All three things meant it was a great place to stab or shoot somone if you wanted to drop them and probably kill them, but not too quickly. The Tiamat soldier arced his back so hard Alkire could almost hear the bones creak and let out a truly bloodcurdling shriek of agony as he convulsed backwards off of Alkire. Alkire kicked him in the chest for good measure and slowly rolled to his feet. He had to be quick, who knew what sort of trigger the bombs were on.

He breathed a short sigh of relief after a brief moment of inspecting the breaching charges. Standard radio armed/detonated devices. No special tactile triggers or motion sensors or timers. Press a button to arm them. Press it again to go BOOM. Now he just had to find the control. And he knew where to look, since what sort of bombadier wouldn't keep the control on him? It was as he turned and caught sight of something in his peripheral vision that he reflected he probably should have made sure the guy was disabled first. Or at least made sure to take the gun away. "Fucking fanatics." Alkire observed, seeing the man actually sitting up in a small lake of his own blood, gun pointing steadily at Alkire from across the room.

"For the preservation... For the Preservation... For the..." The man couldn't seem to spit the mantra out. That didn't stop him from pulling the trigger four times, the multiple impacts throwing Alkire hard against the doorway behind him. His entire chest went numb, and the feeling of numbness spread rapidly. Alkire coughed heavily and saw the big glob of gore that came out. The flight suits were durable and padded... but they weren't armored against gunfire or other types of impact. But despite the sudden leaden feeling in his legs, Alkire found that he was still standing, still able to control his body. There was actually very little pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid the pack off his back and fumbled it open. Meanwhile the Tiamat soldier had kept trying to shoot him, only to discover the pistol was empty. Frantically, his blood slicked hands clumsy, the Tiamat soldier struggled to reload the weapon. It was tough, because he could feel his life slipping away with every breath and the pain in his groin was unbearable. He dropped the magazine twice, covering it liberally with his own hot blood, and fumbled it twice more before it slammed home in the grip of the pistol with a protesting screech. He aimed at the bastard who'd killed him. "... of our Blue and Pure World." he spat and pulled the trigger, even as his other hand found the detonator control at his waist.

Alkire remained calm, searching out his own pistol and fighting to keep his mind steady and focused. He was glad he'd loaded it before putting it in the bag, because he didn't think he could have managed to load it in his current state. The Tiamat soldier was thrashing around, blood flying everywhere, as he fought with his own pistol reloading process. Alkire found a glimmer of respect for the guy... it couldn't have been easy, ignoring the wound Alkire had given him. Alkire was pretty sure he couldn't have done it. Of course he wasn't a die hard fanatic either. Alkire watched and felt himself smiling, despite the copper taste filling his mouth and dribbling down his chin. The stupid bastard had put the magazine in with the bullets facing backwards and then forced it in. Well, perhaps the pain was getting to him after all. He slowly brought his own pistol up, feeling like his arm weighed a couple hundred pounds. The Tiamat soldier aimed his own gun at Alkire and squeezed the trigger. Of course, nothing happened, since the firing pin was on the other side of the bullet from the hammer. Alkire's weapon didn't have the same problem, and his shots blew the Tiamat's face out through the back of his head. A simple box with two buttons on it fell out of the soldier's suddenly limp off hand. The control circuit, obviously.

Alkire was just walking over to pick it up when the world went topsy-turvy and he found himself on his face. He reached for the box, but it seemed to be just outside the reach of his hands. He was still reaching when he lost consciousness, at roughly the same time the bridge door hissed open and Katie barged out, crying his name. At least, thats what he thought he heard...

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Victor swam back to full consciousness with an incredible noise ringing in his ears. It sounded like a church bell dropping from the top of a ten story tower onto a solid steel floor. He slowly crawled up the wall he was lying against and spat blood ad a few tooth chips into the facepiece of his mask. The back of his head felt like it was made from a pain sponge. He remembered getting shot, his leg wounds were still bleeding sluggishly, but everything after that was just a dull roar and confused images. Probably due to some sort of explosion throwing him into an unyielding surface, like the steel wall. He slapped some duct tape over his gunshot wounds to staunch the bleeding and took stock. After a few moments thought and analysis of the smoke now filling the corridor he was in, he had to assume Asmodeus had managed to breach the security door leading into the Engineering spaces, no doubt that was the source of the echoing noise that had woken Victor again.

Asmodeus was down a man, and had another injured, but that still elft him and one more fully able bodied soldier opposing Victor. But he couldn't let the long odds stop him, he was likely the only person in any sort of position to stop whatever it was Asmodeus was planning. Victor found his gun on the ground and slid in a fresh magazine and then headed towards the door to Engineering as fast as his stiff injured leg would let him. He could hear sporadic gunfire coming from inside Engineering... Asmodeus and company slaughtering everyone they found, likely, since it was long odds that the engineers had automatic weapons just lying around waiting to be used. The crump and crash of concussion and fragmentation grenades further indicated that it was Tiamat doing the killing, not the other way around. Victor poked his head around the bed in the passageway, wincing when he saw the smoking ruins where the hatch had been... someone had been a little heavy with the demo. Engineering was entirely unlit, except for flickering illumination from several fires now raging out of control, with the damage control crews dead.

Victor made his way slowly... even with the ability to see reasonably clearly granted to him by his mask, there was no reason to rush into another ambush. His foes outnumbered him three to one after all, even if one was moderately injured. Smoke swirled around him as he rounded a corner, heading down some strairs that would lead him into the spaces underneath the main generators. He was glad of the mask, or else he would have had to worry about running out of breathable air with all the smoke. There were two bodies at the base of the stairs. One was a Tiamat soldier, the one Victor had wounded earlier. There was a massive bloody wound on the back of his head, it looked like someone had struck him with something large and heavy, very hard, crushing the entire back of the skull. The other body was a crewmember, a burly mechanic. One of the massive tools nicknamed BFW's (Big Fucking Wrench) lay nearby. Nearly four feet long with a head as big as a bowling ball and made from solid steel, it certainly fit the bill for what had hit the Tiamat soldier. Victor was glad to see the crew fighting back, even if the man had obviously lost his life for it.

The crewman looked almost peaceful, except for a neat little incision in the middle of this throat, barely more than a half inch wide. Well, that and the massive crater of shredded organs where his stomach used to be. Asmodeus wasn't someone you wnted to try sneaking up on, unless you were a serious expert. A noise from nearby caught Victor's ear as he bent over the dead crewman. The sound of a ring being pulled. He cursed and dived off the stairs as fast as he could, just barely clearing the area of a frag grenade that minced both corpses and left his back feeling like he'd just laid down in a bed of cacti. He ignored the pain as best he was able, feeling his leg flare up as he rolled to his feet in time to spray a burst of fire at the Tiamat soldier as he charged by on a maintenance walkway on the other side of a bank of machinery. Bullets whined and sparked, but Victor was fairly sure he hadn't hit the man. He reloaded again and limped in the direction the man had run. He was heading underneath the generators again. Victor tried to think of what was under there.

Nothing had come to mind by the time he came under fire again, heavy bullets knocking divots in the deck as the Tiamat soldier reached a ladderway that led both up between the generators and down into the support machinery below. The Tiamat had climbed several rungs to get a superior field of vision and fire, but it turned out to be a mistake. Having missed Victor, the soldier had no easy path of movement left open to him. Certainly there was nowhere to dodge Victor's return blurt of automatic fire, which tore into his lighter armored legs and waist. Maybe not instantly fatal, but that was okay because the soldier lost his grip and dropped assfirst down twenty feet of enclosed ladderway onto a steel deck, his chin and skull bounching off every rung on the way down. Victor reloaded again and shot the body again a few times, just to be sure, but he'd known the man was dead the moment he fell. He looked at the ladder... why had the man run to it, it was quite exposed. It made no sense, unless the man was also planning to use the ladder. Now the question was simple. Up, or down? Which way had Asmodeus gone?

Up lay access ports for both main generators and their associated cooling and power distribution systems. If the ship had been flying and operating at full power, that would have been the obvious place to go. But it was crashed and mostly disabled... bombs there would do nothing to change the current state of the ship. That left down, which lead to various hydraulic systems, oil and water tanks, bilges and... the battery room. Victor climbed on the ladder and descended as quickly as he could. The battery room. With both main and emergency generators offline, the ship could only be drawing power from the massive batteries. Take those out and the ship would go from being MOSTLY helpless to ENTIRELY helpless. No firefighting gear, no lights, no automatic doors... anything electrical would cease working, and in this day and age that was basically everything. Indeed, after only a brief search, Victor found the floor hatch leading to the battery well, as it was called, standing open. There was even less light in the well than the rest of the engine room, but there was no sign of Asmodeus. Victor slowly climbed down the ladder, it was awkward going because of his wounded leg and the need to climb facing into the room vs facing the ladder, so that Asmodeus wouldn't have the oppertunity to shoot him in the back. Suddenly, without any warning, the remotely operated battery room hatch slammed closed and audibly locked, leaving Victor in near total darkness.

It took him a few seconds to realize that the darkness was slowly growing lighter. The source of the glow seemed to be coming from some ways away, to what a quick tought determined was the front of the ship. The battery well was huge, because the battery itself was huge. It was actually multiple high storage capacity batteries, each as tall as a grown man and more than two feet on a side. The Archangel had more than eight hundred of them connected in series-parrallel, which could provide power for up to ten hours of non combat operation, more if the ship ran with reduced electrical loads. Fairly certain he was walking into a trap, but not seeing any other option, Victor headed towards the light as silently as his wounded leg allowed. He made it more than eighty feet, aware of the rows of batteries extending below him as well as marching in monolithic blocks to either side, before he made out the source of the light. Three unidirectional chemical lanterns, much bigger cousins of the glow sticks many militaries used for discreet illumination, were set up next to a central diagnostics machine, where Engineering crew could assess the state of the battery as a whole and the individual batteries that made them up.

Asmodeus, distinctive in his horned Hellhound mask, leaned casually against a row of batteries just in front of the lanterns. He'd taken off his body armor and seemingly discarded his guns. Victor was pretty sure he could make out blocks of plastique adhered to the central diagnostics machine and to several batteries nearby, but there was no ticking doomsday device, like he'd half been expecting. He wasn't sure what sort of game Asmodeus was playing, but he wasn't going to let him just sit there, backlit, without making him pay for it. He carefully aimed with his SMG right at the area below the chilling blue glow of the Hellhound mask optics and was just about to squeeze the trigger when Asmodeus spoke.

"You really don't want to do that, Victor." Asmodeus said clearly, across the twenty or so feet that seperated them. "I've cut the ventilation system power, and put a few good holes in the hydrogen removal system. These are hydrogen-sulfate batteries. Of course, you knew that already, since you've studied this ship thoroughly, being a passenger and sometime protector of it." Asmodeus sounded totally calm. "As if that wasn't enough, I opened up a few batteries. Hydrogen isn't particularly harmful to breathe, especially with our masks on... but if you remember your basic chemistry..."

"Yes, hydrogen is highly explosive in a gaseous state." Victor said disgustedly. "I don't see that stopping me, 'Deus. I could blow myself to kingdom come by shooting you, but that's better than letting you do whatever it is you're doing."

"Is it?" Asmodeus replied archly. "You obviously haven't thought things through. Do you have any idea how much explosive power is contained within these batteries? We're talking hundreds of gigajoules, Victor. That's why they have all the safety precautions preventing fires in here and indeed a way to jettison the entire room if need be. If all the batteries went off at once... say due to my bombs or your stray gunshot... there wouldn't be a piece of this ship left bigger than a deck of playing cards. And while I don't doubt you'd still do it if it killed you, I don't believe you'll do it if it means killing everyone else on the Archangel."

"I don't see as I have much choice, 'Deus. If you're going to blow the bombs anyway, I might as well take my chances."

"Ah yes, but you haven't heard me out yet. Behind me, on that diagnostics console, lies the switch that will unlock and open the hatch you climbed through. With that source of ventilation, hydrogen levels in this room will bleed off to safe levels in only a few minutes, since hydrogen is lighter than air and will rise out the hatch first. All you have to do is get by me. Which, if you can, will incidentally solve your bomb problem as well, because, as you can see by looking past me, the control circuit is also next to that switch. My gift, to whomever wins." Asmodeus turned to fully face Victor, and that was when Victor saw the long rapier held in Asmodeus's hand. "All you have to do is get by me without using a gun and salvation is yours, Victor."

"Why, 'Deus?" Victor asked, slowly lowering his gun. "Why give me a chance?"

"Because it's just about the only thing that makes life fun anymore." Asmodeus replied easily. "And either way, I get to die, which is the point of it all, isn't it?"

"Not exactly my venue of choice for saber fighting." Victor noted, unencumbering himself of his armor and guns as well. The armor would do him zero good against Asmodeus's laser sharpened blade. His leg protested stiffly. "I don't suppose you'd take a handicap for a wounded opponent?"

"The venue is what it is." Asmodeus replied. "And I'm crazy, not stupid, Victor. You may be injured, but you're almost twenty years younger than me as well. That should be plenty of handicap." Asmodeus took a side on stance, seemingly in quite good balance and health for a man who brought up a twenty year age difference. "Ah yes, you'll want to be careful of slashing too widely... it would be quite an unfortunate death to strike a bus bar and short several megavolts through your arm."

"Anything else to say? Want to laugh maniacally and tell me there is some damsel in distress tied across a rail line somewhere? Twirl a mustachio? Throw back your dark cloak dramatically? Tell me you're secretly my father?" Victor drew his saber and took his own side on stance. He felt a bit rusty, and his injured leg twinged constantly, throwing him off a bit.

"I'll tell you if anything comes to MIND!" Asmodeus lunged on the last word, rapier point darting for Victor's face. Victor parried it high, but had no time to riposte as Asmodeus withdrew his blade and stabbed again in a lightning fast reversal, now aiming for Victor's forward thigh. Victor only barely managed to evade by leaping awkwardly backwards, putting far more weight than he'd wanted to on his injured leg, which was probably exactly what Asmodeus intended. Asmodeus continued to advance, stabbing and thrusting, always trying to make Victor keep weight on his injured leg, never giving him time nor space to set up a defense strategy. Truly, in the confined space of the battery well, a saber was almost a hinderance, relying mostly as it did on slashing attacks made with the blade's edge, vs thrusting attacks from the point like a rapier.

That is, until Victor parried low again, letting Asmodeus's blade slide aginst his all the way down to the hilt, where there was a slight notch in which the blade caught. Thus bound, Victor lunged forward himself, bringing his fingerguard smashing upwards into Asmodeus's chin, throwing the man back as their blades disengaged with a squeal of metal on metal. Now it was Victors turn to go on the attack, using short chops and limited overhand sweeps of his sword to batter at Asmodeus's defenses. Much as a rapier was well suited for thrusting attacks, so too was it best suited for defending against the same... the slashing attacks of a saber were hard to block fully with the thinner bladed sword. Victor pushed Asmodeus back almost into the circle of radiance cast by the chemical lanterns before Asmodeus rallied, ducking past a slice at his head and bulling forward, something Victor had not expected the older man to do. The saber was much better at close range combat, with its steel fingerguard almost like a set of brass knuckles, than the rapier. But then Victor spied the knife Asmodeus had palmed into his other hand, shortly before the jagged bladed combat knife sliced a deep gouge along the forearm of his sword hand.

Asmodeus continued his charge, dropping his shoulder and slamming Victor backwards a few steps, smiling as he heard the younger man grunt with each step he made with his injured leg. He spit blood from his split lips and vowed he'd make this a fight to enjoy. It was going to be his last after all. "What's the matter, Victor? You're slower than I remember." Asmodeus took up a new stance, sword held low and angled high, knife held high and angled low.

"Some of us had better things to do than concentrate on sports." Victor growled. His arm hurt and it was bleeding freely. If he didn't regain some sort of advantage soon, he was done for, as the blood loss made him dizzier and lightheaded. "Like trying to make the world a better place!" He studied Asmodeus's stance frantically, searching for an opening or weakness._ Wait a minute..._

"It is a better place, isn't it?" Asmodeus answered calmly. "The war is all but over, only Orb stands against Sai now. Then there is just Frost and me, us poor dying sparks trying to make a last impression on the world. After we're done, the world will be peaceful."

"Assuming you can drown out the cries of millions of starving Coordinators, yes." Victor retorted. "Me, my hearing is a bit too keen to just ignore that."_ This is gonna suck, but its the only way._

"Well, you don't need to worry about that too much, I can do quite a bit to help you drown out the noise!" Asmodeus lunged again, again aiming for the forward thigh. It wasn't near time to end this yet, but another wound would certainly make things more fun. The blade slipped through Victor's lethargic defense and stabbed cleanly through the meat of the quadriceps. Asmodeus smirked and was just withdrawing the blade when Victor's hand stantched around and grabbed the blade, its laser sharpened edges cutting deep into his fingers and palm as he stomped forward with his impaled leg, aggravating the injury even as the sudden awkward angle locked Asmodeus's sword in place. "Damn..." Asmodeus commented as Victor's saber sliced upwards in a long sweep that left a inch deep cut from Asmodeus's left hip to his right shoulder.

"You were still fighting like you want to save your life!" Victor shouted into Asmodeus's face, releasing his sword and whipping out his knife in almost the same motion. He drove it home into the base of Asmodeus's neck, even as Asodeus used his own knife to stab Victor in the chest. The two former college rivals stared at each other through their masks, bodies twitching, each willing the other to fall first, neither willing to be the first to show weakness. In the end though, age did tell, and Asmodeus's legs turned to water despite the ironclad orders from his brain. "That... that was... always... your... weak... ness... 'Deus." Victor staggered back a few steps, looking down at the knife in his chest. From its location he was pretty sure he had a lung wound, which meant withdrawing the blade would only make things worse. "You never... let yourself risk... it all."

Asmodeus did not reply, he was too busy vainly attempting to staunch the hideous wound Victor's knife had left in the juncture of his throat and chest. It wasn't the pain, it was the lack of air... he needed to breathe... just catch his breath and he'd be fine to put his arrogant rival in his place again... just breathe. Victor slowly tottered past the gargling Asmodeus, collapsing up against the diagnostics machine when he reached it. His stumble knocked the bomb detonator to the floor, but he forced himself to stay awake long enough to turn the switch that ventilated the compartment. There was no rush of gale force winds or anything dramatic like that. Just a metallic "clunk" of the hatch opening. Victor's vision was starting to grey out again, but he was reasonably sure that his wound wasn't totally life threatening. Long as he didn't bleed out over the next couple hours, he should be fine. _Should be just fine..._ Victor sank slowly to a sitting position and scrabbled weakly for the bomb controller. It was while he was doing that he noticed the LED timer taped to the bottom of the console desk. It read 1:30. Then 1:29. Then 1:28.

"Motherfucker, you put a timer on the bombs?" Victor swore without feeling able to get angry. He struggled to maintain focus as he reached under the console to examine the timer box. It looked like a standard device of its nature, there would be anywhere from three to ten wires going off it, depending on how much was hooked up to it and how tricky the designers were feeling.

"I knew... my own... overconfident... nature." Asmodeus gasped, vomiting a bit of blood with each exhalation. He slowly climbed a battery, using it to lever himself to his feet. Casting about for a weapon, he picked up Victor's discarded SMG and saber. "I would... suggest cutting... the blue wire."

"They're all fucking blue wires." Victor replied after a moment's investigation. "All five of them."

"Heh." Asmodeus's laugh was more like a death rattle as he slowly took aim at Victor, who had his head and shoulders underneath the console desk while he worked on the timer. "Looks like... I do know... how to risk... it all."

Victor peeked out from under the console as he levered the case top off the timer. It read 0:57 and continued to tick downwards. No pressure. "Don't be a sore loser, 'Deus." Victor went back to work under the console, tracing the wire paths out as best he could._ Have to keep him talking. Give the room time to ventilate. Never mind the bombs. Just keep him talking._ "I won the duel, it would be dishonorable to strike me now."

"I am a dead man walking, even before these wounds, Victor. What do I care about honor or decency or anything like that? My family was killed in this war, Victor, before it even started. I thought I'd found closure when I killed that girl, but I was wrong. It didn't make me feel better at all."

"Don't even fucking bring that shit up now, 'Deus, you sick fuck. How could you try and force someone to make a choice like that?" _Just a little more... almost got it... just a few more seconds..._

"But he did end up making the choice, didn't he? Oh, but the emotional scarring he must have. It must truly eat at him. That was the only thing that made me feel better, thinking of that pain, so unlike any other in the world." Asmodeus replied wistfully. "I must sound like Frost. Hmmp, what do you know? The litte bastard was right after all." Asmodeus squeezed the trigger, sending almost thirty bullets crashing into Victor's legs and torso. The recoil was too much for him in his wounded state, sending him slipping backwards, arms flailing.

He was still holding Victor's saber in one hand, when the blade whipped around and slapped against the metal bars running along the tops of the batteries securing them together both electrically and physically. The contact wasn't for long, but electricity travels at the speed of light. In an instant more than two hundred batteries discharged their entire potential down the path of least resistance, through the saber and into Asmodeus, charring him to a blackened skeleton clothed in ashes in an instant. The only thing that remained even partly intact was the Hellhound mask, fused to the blackened skull, lifeless blue eyes still staring upwards.

Victor felt the world slipping away from him, lying spread eagled underneath the diagnostics console. He couldn't see or feel anything below the neck. Probably a good thing, he'd get sick to his stomach otherwise. Assuming he still had one, which wasn't assured. He stared upwards at the timer. 0:37. He blinked and forced his eyes open again. 0:37. "Fuck... I'm good." Victor closed his eyes again. It was too much effort keeping the open. "Hey... James... Vlad... good to see you guys again. Never guess what we did with that vodka, Vlad. Yeah... we been having a grand old time since you guys got off the bus. Can't wait to catch up, eh? Damn... is it... is it just... me... or... or is it... really... really fucking cold...?"

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Frost stared at the Fury's left arm. Or the charred and blackened stump where it had been anyways. "I cannot believe I let a total moron like Elsman actually damage me in combat." Frost commented to the void. "Haven't you humiliated me enough as it is, cruel world, with the Archangel still in one piece and that bastard Yamato not even deigning to take the field against me? Must you continue to pile more shame onto my pride? What's next, is Fiery Zala-Attha going to come bitch slap me to death now? Huh? Is that it? Huh?" As usual, the world declined to answer verbally. Frost sliced his remaining beam saber around and severed the control wires linking the grounded GP pod to the Fury. No sense getting burned twice.

Frost kept most of his attention on his foes, even as he complained. Loser Zala-Attha in his big red machine with the flyer packs was in front, now without a shield but a beam saber in each hand. Fiery Zala-Attha, in her pink machine, was advancing from the right, spear and shield raised. Scarface was behind him, also coming in with sword and shield. And Cray-bait Elsman and his girl were on the left, no doubt patting each other all over the back for their stroke of good luck. "You think I can't beat you all with just one arm!? Haven't you learned anything from our times together!?" Frost shouted, offended. "You should know, that when the going gets tough... the TOUGH GET GOING! And there is no one TOUGHER THAN ME!"

Frost didn't wait for them to jump him en masse, he charged directly at Loser Zala-Attha, but that was just a feint. He faked a dodge to the right, because that's what Loser Zala-Attha would always respond to first, a threat to his lovely sex-toy. In the instant when Zala-Attha commited, Frost burned left, grinning through the G-Forces, firing three of his remaining grapples at Elsman as he came about, ducking under the sweeping slice from Scarface, pivoting on one leg to drive the other knee first into the cockpit region of the Duelist. Frost lifted the standing leg up, twirling the Fury into a somersault to avoid losing the limb to Loser Zala-Attha's predictable attacks, and then brought his GP pods around in a mass, moving them into position around Fiery Zala-Attha. A few taps on his thrusters momentarily disengaged him from melee combat with Scarface and Loser Zala-Attha and Frost tossed his beam saber straight up. Elsman had managed to avoid the beam grapples again, but he was out of position and off balance, so Frost could ignore him for the next few seconds.

Frost drew his beam rifle with his operational hand and blasted a dozen shots at the general area of Fiery Zala-Attha. By then of course both Loser Zala-Attha and Scarface were in his face again, trying to overwhelm him with beam saber attacks from two directions at once. As if he'd never trained against multiple opponents in a melee environment, with various sorts of disadvantages. The Fury was DESIGNED for melee combat almost to exclusion, he had reserves of maneuverability they could only dream about. He would appear to almost blur to them as he let the Fury drop like a stone before pulling out scant inches from the ground, igniting the very dirt with the flames of his thruster wash as he stowed his rifle and caught the sword on its way down, stowing it and drawing an armor-schnieder knife. He angled his GP pods to continue bouncing the beam blasts he'd fired and caught earlier, content for now to keep Fiery Zala-Attha pinned with confusion as he wove a mini-Web of the Warped around her.

Elsman was back in the fight again, missiles and beam blasts once again trying to track him down. That was likely the girl then. Coordinators could at least recognize an ineffective tactic when they saw it. He wove past the beam blasts and as many of the missiles as he thought prudent, letting the others strike him to zero effect as his anti-beam coated transphase armor negated them. He flew dead straight at the Grand Buster, even as it aimed it's hyper impulse cannon at him. Frost made no attempt to dodge, even as the crackles of reddish-blue energies started leaping around the muzzle, sure sign that it was about to fire. "Monkey see, monkey do." Frost admonished, throwing the knife directly up the barrel of the weapon, which caused it to short out and explode rather nicely. Now the Fury wasn't the only machine with just one arm. "Gonna be hard to use that big clunker on your back one handed..." Frost giggled and turned his attention elsewhere, idly kicking out as he zoomed past and knocking the overbalanced and ungainly Grand Buster flat on its ass.

Scarface was right behind him, sticking like a limpet no matter how Frost dodged and wove, started, stopped or maneuvered. Frost shrugged slightly. If he wanted to be that persistent about it, so be it. The railgun and gatling 25mm beam gun on the shoulders of the Duelist spat and whined at him, but he ignored them as inconsequential. Even the low caliber beam darts wouldn't be much of a problem unless he bathed in them for a while. He checked the Web around Fiery Zala-Attha. She played at being a mobile suit pilot, but her skills were barely mediocre in Frost's opinion and he only had to turn his partial attention to her every few seconds. The Web would need refreshing in the next ten seconds, but nothing immediate, the girl was still standing immobile in the middle of the confusing tangle of bouncing green beams, obviously too terrified to move. Frost turned his sights on the greatest threat, despite his name, Loser Zala-Attha was just about the only one he wasn't entirely sure was a pushover. Frost just called him that because of their little meeting in the subway of Orb, which was of course where Fiery Zala-Attha had also gotten her new name.

Frost wished he could listen to what his opponents were saying, as he curved around and oriented on Loser Zala-Attha, who was now facing him head on, dual bladed beam saber in either fist. Frost fired all his remaining beam grapples directly at the Righteous, studying the play of the beam sabers as Loser Zala-Attha cut them from the air. It was painful, letting himself lose an entire section of armament like that, but he'd make up for it. He blitzed into the Righteous, beam sword and amputed arm both battering away at the shiny red Gundam. The Beam sword came down high and from the right, Zala's sword was up to meet it. Frost's amputated arm speared inwards and Zala raised the other sword to parry and slice into the arm... but his parry stopped short, the dual beams entangling with the second beam from the sword parrying Frost's blade. Having two blades on each sword was an enormous offensive advantage, giving you many more angles to strike from... defensively, if you were say distracted by a loved one being in danger, well, it was more a hindrance. The spearing inward arm stopped just short of actual contact though, as Frost needed the Righteous to remain exactly where it was.

Frost didn't need the ringing proximity alarms to tell him what Scarface was up to, he could almost taste the beam sword's roiling heat as it thrust towards the back of his head. Scarface was going to stab him in the back while he was clinched with the Righteous. Almost admirable. Frost waited until the last moment, and then an instant longer. The Duelist's beam sword tip actually scored a path along the rear torso armor of the Fury as Ysak thrust forward at full extension, only to have the Fury seemingly melt away as Frost sideslipped the attack and then suddenly Ysak was thrusting at Athrun. Not something he'd entirely mind, in other circumstances, but not when facing Frost together. Ysak jerked his arm in a full abort maneuver, but he still sliced a deep cut in the Righteous's right shoulder. Ysak was just opening his mouth to shout in dismay when the Duelist ran headlong into the Fury's upraised amputated arm stump. Though the arm could no longer do any real damage, the physical shock of the two machines colliding was massive. The arm stump splintered and sheared away at the shoulder joint as the Fury was knocked sprawling past the Righteous, while Ysak and the Duelist stopped so fast he snapped a seat restraint... for all its small size, the Fury massed more than the Duelist. Choking and momentarily out of breath, Ysak could only watch through stunned eyes.

Far from helpless, Frost once more swapped sword and rifle, firing eight more beam shots as the Fury slid across the ground before he used what remained of his momentum to roll the Fury to its feet. The Web was refreshed, and he even allowed a blast or to to score against Fiery Zala-Attha's shield, ensuring that she would stay put just a while longer. By the time the Fury regained its feet and charged back at the stunned Duelist and Righteous, Frost once more had a sword in hand. Loser Zala-Attha's wingsabers came zooming around, but Frost cut one in half and kicked the other away contemptuously. It turned out to be a mistake, because the Righteous hammered into him in a charge of its own, Athrun having done his own study of Frost's movements. It was impossible even for Frost to block four beam blades with just one of his own, and steaming rents opened up on the Fury's torso and limb armor. Seeing that, Frost declined to even pretend to defend any longer, trusting in his own and the Fury's resilience. He took a deep slice on the left side, deep enough that he could feel the heat of the melted armor in the cockpit and several screens shorted out from the damage.

In return, Frost scored hard on the Righteous as well, slicing off the right arm at the shoulder. Frost kicked at the same time Athrun did and their sweeping legs met in a clash of sparks and warping armor plates. Both pilots stepped back a half pace and then prepared to go at it again, even in their determination to destroy the other. Until the Rubicon burst out of the Web of the Warped that Frost had built to immobilize her, her overriding concern for Athrun causing her to ignore the near fatal damage the Rubicon suffered from multiple beam blast impacts which left the Rubicon crippled and barely able to walk much less fly. But the desperate move allowed her to throw her beam lance as straight and true as a javelin on the Olympic field, if a bit low. But Frost hadn't accounted for any interference from her, and so he was too busy dealing with Athrun to avoid the beam lance crashing into the Fury's right leg, severing it below the knee. There was a brief pause as the Fury's leg fell away and then the Righteous kicked again, and sent the Fury tumbling to the ground.

Frost went berserk. The Fury alighted from its fall so fast it barely seemed like it touched the ground at all. One armed, one legged, the Fury turned on the Rubicon, which was starting to have trouble standing due to damage to the legs and waist from the beams of the Web. Almost unarmed, barely able to hang onto her shield, Cagalli could do nothing to stop the beast bearing down on her. She closed her eyes, wanting the last thing she ever thought about to be of Athrun. However, there was no searing pain, no tearing metal... no death. Cagalli cracked open her eyes again and her jaw dropped. The Fury was right in front of her, balancing on long leg, sword arm raised high... but it was unable to swing the sword down. Unable to because the Pulsar had materialized behind it and was holding the Fury's wrist. With only one leg to stand on, Frost couldn't get the leverage he needed to swing the sword.

"K-Kira?" Cagalli asked, stunned.

"I won't let you hurt my sister." Kira's voice replied on the international channel.

"YOU! So you finally decided to show up!? I can't tell you how HAPPY THAT MAKES ME!" Frost turned and blanched for a moment... it wasn't the Liberty behind him, it was the Pulsar. "Uncle?"

"Nope." Kira fought to control the Pulsar. SEED mode helped some, but he didn't think he could hold it long. The Pulsar wanted to kill the Isolationists. Kira had no problem with fighting them, but if he gave in to the Pulsar he would massacre the entire task force down to the last man and woman, and that he could not allow. The bloodthirst was almost a living thing by itself, perhaps a flaw in the system, Kira didn't know. He released Frost's wrist and slammed a punch into the Fury's head, sending the shorter machine teetering for balance on its one remaining leg. Kira breathed a sigh of relief... except for that last attack on Cagalli, his friends looked to have Frost... well, if not well in hand... at least on the ropes. Frost swung at the Pulsar, but by the time his swing got halfway there Kira wasn't within fifty meters.

"Still tormenting me, UNCLE!? I just can't get a break!" Frost muttured vehemently. He jetted after the Pulsar, swinging his sword madly. No matter how hard he tried though, he never even got close. Whenever he'd close the distance and start swinging, the Pulsar would blur and vanish, appearing a few dozen meters away, calm as could be. It was really, really pissing Frost off. "Stand still, DAMN IT!"

"You've lost, Frost. This is your end." Kira replied. He didn't have long... minutes at the most. He could taste, in that faraway part of him that was Kira and not the Pulsar, blood in his lungs. The NIC was fighting him for every movement, and Kira was still winning, but he was pushing the line. Too much more and he would be crispy bacon, just like Athrun had said. And Lacus would never forgive him, much less herself, if that happened. And that wouldbe the ultimate hell for him.

"WHEN has no hold over me! I still haven't found the perfect HOW yet!" Frost spat in reply. He snatched out his beam rifle and blasted at the Pulsar. Damn him for its crudeness, but if the bastard wouldn't stand still Frost would be glad to hurt him till he did. But it was to even less avail than his sword swings had been. Each beam got to wtihin about ten meters of the Pulsar's upraised palm and then just disappeared in a flash of light. If he really looked, Frost could see a faint red shimmer in the air, in the rough shape of an oval shield. Whenever the beams hit that shimmer, they just ceased to be. "Hide behind your shield then..." Frost brought his GP pods back to him, ready to defend against any finishing blow his enemy had. "... I have a shield..." Frost never got to finish. The Pulsar disappeared again, reappearing directly in front of him, five silvery threads bunched in one hand. The control wires for the GP pods. A claw popped out of one of the fingers of the Pulsar's free hand and sliced the control wires apart. Now uncontrolled, the GP pods drifted aimlessly through the air, at least until their power supply ran out.

"... of my own!" Frost's mouth caught up to what his eyes had seen. "No fair... he gets claws and I don't?" The Fury crashed backwards, after being struck with the flat of the Pulsar's beam zweihander. A heat whip lashed out and sliced the Fury's right hand off at the wrist, the superheated metal links having no problem melting through the trasnphase shift armor. "Fine then! This isn't how I wanted it!" Frost shouted, keying the Fury's self destruct device. He looped an arm into the straps of the escape harness/jetpack that Asmodeus had stashed in his cockpit without his permission, citing it was always better to live again to fight another day, and hit the cockpit release. The beam zweihander loomed overhead and started to come down. "THIS IS NOT MY **HOW!**" Frost activated the harness and let himself be yanked out of his seat even as the massive beam sword crashed into the cockpit area, and the Fury blew itself to cinders. Only a few feet clear of the machine when it blew, Frost was hurled three hundred meters in the air and had almost all his clothing and surface skin seared off him. One eye was blasted out of his skull by the shockwave and he had more than a few broken bones even before he crashed into the ocean from a height of nearly one hundred meters. But he was not dead... he would not let himself die so simply. Even as he surfaced, he was swimming for shore again.

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Kira jerked in the cockpit as the Pulsar surged and overrid him, reacting faster than he could comprehend to save itself from being enveloped in the blast from the Fury's destruction. When he awoke again, the taste of blood in the cockpit gel was a lot stronger, and his body felt even more numb than usual. He had to get out, and soon. But the Archangel was all but wrecked, and suddenly the Clyne Faction had an entirely new problem.

"This is Commander Markov Ashino, of the Isolationist 1st CAD, calling the pilot of the ZAFT Gundam. Surrender at once or be destroyed. We have you surrounded and outnumbered."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. It's hard enough trying NOT to kill you guys, I think surrendering is out of the question." Kira didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until he heard the sudden shocked silence coming back to him on all channels.

"Kira Yamato, are you piloting that ZAFT Gundam?" Ashino asked, slowly and clearly.

"Listen, I didn't mean to attack you just yet..." Kira started to reply. _That sounds so weird._ "We still want to talk." Kira took in the Isolationist forces now confronting him. Pretty much every mobile suit in the task force was there. More than three hundred Dagger JA's and Cavaliers. Fifteen Freedoms. Twenty Cataphracts and five Archmage platforms. A massive Gundam painted in the same colors as the Bane, which had to be the Independence that Ashino was in.

"It's a little late for talk. I had hoped to give you the full twelve hours to surrender, but I see that is impossible. I am disappointed, Kira Yamato. I expected Orb to be different." Ashino replied. He switched channels. "All forces, weapons free. Bring the Isolation to Orb and don't stop until you see the white flags flying."

"Damn it, wait! I didn't attack you because I wanted to!" Kira shouted. _ Yeah, sure... tell them your mobile suit forced you too. That'll be believed._

"And I am not attacking you because I want to, either. Nevertheless, that is what destiny appears to have in store for us." Ashino brought his dual gatling cannons up, not that he expected it to do much against what he'd already seen the ZAFT Gundam could do. "All Archmages target and destroy the Archangel. Devilfish head for the Aegis ships. Skygraspers, head for the main island and hit their combat headquarters. All SMS flights, watch out for the M-4's."

"Well, we're here now, for all it matters." Waltfeld commed the bridge of the Archangel from the cockpit of his M-4 Guardian. Along with Kisaka and the greater portion of the Orb forces, including Bill Frost and the Orb Ace Lain Debora, Walfeld had deployed to defend the Archangel from the advancing Isolationist forces. Waltfeld was swearing up a storm inside his cockpit... things were going down the drain FAST. The Archangel was down and out of the fight, most of their Gundam's were trashed, the Orb fleet was out of position... not much more could go wrong.

"Kira can't keep piloting that machine!" Waltfeld heard Lacus say in the background. "It's going to kill him!"

"What was that? And how are things on the ship? What happened?" Waltfeld asked Murrue, who looked like she'd just fallen down ten flights of stairs.

"The Archangel is wrecked, Andrew. Ninety percent of all systems are down, we're barely managing to keep up life support and damage control. We've got a lot of serious injuries over here, many of them touch and go. Andrew, if we don't get Alkire and Raine to a hospital within the next few hours, they're going to die. And they won't be the only ones."

"Never would have thought I'd hear about those two getting banged up..." Waltfeld mused.

"We got boarded by Asmodeus and Tiamat." Murrue continued.

"WHAT!?"

"Don't ask me how, but they did it. Just before Frost shot us down, apparently. Casualties are high... they... they were suicidal, Andrew. If it hadn't been for Alkire and Raine, everyone on the bridge would be dead now. I'm still getting mixed reports... all comms are down inside the ship... but apparently theres something big happening in Engineering as well. Asmodeus is still loose on board with an unknown number of allies. Things are not stable here."

"I'll send over what I can, but you heard what the frankenstein said... the fight starts now! I'm not sure we can win this..." Waltfeld juked to avoid a series of blasts from a pair of Dagger JA's, morphing into jet form to blast them away with his missiles... or so he thought, but they were still there, unharmed behind twin barriers of greenish-blue Lightwave energy. "This is bad, when even the no name fodder is hard to kill... What was that Lacus said about Kira?"

"Kira is piloting the Pulsar, the Liberty was either lost or destroyed during the crash. But we all know what happened to the first guy we found who piloted that thing, and now Lacus is telling me how its trying to do the same thing to Kira. She can... sense it." Murrue said, only stumbling slightly over that... Newtype powers were impossible to deny, but still really strange.

"Hate to say it like this, but you're sure the Archangel can't fight at all?" Waltfeld asked again, evading yet more fire from Isolationist forces. It was getting harder, there were just so many of them and they were really working together well. "We could really use anything, for the psychology of it if nothing else."

"I can't even get lights on in medical. I'm sorry Andrew, but Orb will have to fight without the Archangel." Murrue replied.

"I understand." Waltfeld saw a different light lit on his comm board. "Yes, Kisaka?"

"So what's the story?" Kisaka asked, blasting away in tank mode, to little discernable effect on the Cataphracts he was targeting, secure behind their Citadel Shields.

"It was nice knowing you. I really had fun."

"It can't be that bad."

"I'm reasonably certain it can be. Because it is. The Archangel is flat out, in fact THEY need lots of help from US. The most operational Gundam is the Duelist and its pretty dinged up. Both the Grand Buster and the Righteous are missing arms and most of their ranged weapons. The Rubicon is barely able to stand there, much less fight. All the pilots are tired and strung out. Kira's in a goddamn machine that is apparently trying to kill him just like Borander got killed. We're massively outnumbered and their technology is not that inferior to ours, superior in some cases, like the damn shields!"

"Don't panic, Andrew."

"I'm not panicking! I'm just laying out the facts, and if they make me a little hysterical, so be it!" A stream of high caliber shells suddenly tracked into his wing and blew it off. Only a rapid change to mobile suit form kept him in the air. "Oh yes, and lest I forget, the enemy is led by a BCPU in his own specialty Gundam, fresh mind you, with fifteen Freedoms backing him up!"

"That last bit IS worrying." Kisaka admitted, swerving just barely in time to avoid being atomized by one of those self same Freedoms. "They may be Natural pilots, but they aren't bad." Before they could say more, Kira interrupted everything.

"DAMN IT! Ashino, I didn't want to do this... but I CAN'T FIGHT IT ANY MORE!" Kira shouted over the international channel. Within ten seconds after that announcement, Kira had killed fifteen mobile suits, a mixture of Dagger JA's and Cavaliers. Killed, as in, destroyed them utterly, sliced them to pieces, etc. As in the pilots died.

"Thats... Kira... in there?" Waltfeld asked, confused. "Didn't he swear the whole "never kill again" oath that causes him so many problems?"

"It's not just Kira in that machine." Lacus cut into the channel. "I don't quite know how to explain it, but that Gundam has a limited ability to learn from its pilot, acquiring skills and tendencies from its pilot. Borander was a ZAFT patriot who hated the Alliance. The machine is trying to keep acting along the lines of the impulses it learned from him. And fighting it is causing it to overload Kira's nervous system. It's killing him." Her voice was brittle, clearly kept under control only by a monstrous effort of will.

"So what are we supposed to do about it?" Athrun asked, as he finished slicing apart a Cataphract with his one remaining arm. Its comrades punished him with pounding barrages of gatling cannon and artillery cannon fire, sending the Righteous stumbling like a drunk man.

"There's nothing anyone but me or Kira can do about it, and we're both already trying as hard as we can. Just try and stay alive. And don't attack the Pulsar." Lacus replied. There was a spectacular explosion, as an Archmage platform came apart in a brilliant fireball, the Pulsar hovering overhead. Other Archmage platforms swung their positron cannons to point at the Archangel, stationary and helpless.

_Leave them... its an enemy targeting an enemy. No threat to me._ Kira thought, staring at the Archmages and the Archangel. _What the hell am I thinking! Lacus is on there!_ The image of her came so strongly into his mind it was like she was there in the cockpit with him. She was trying to make contact with him, but his war with the Pulsar didn't leave him any attention to spare for her. _Always have to protect Lacus. NO harm can EVER come to Lacus by my hands or anyone elses!_ The world blurred and he was floating in front of the Archangel as the Archmages fired. He took both shots on his Positron Reflector shields. No sweat, barely a fluctuation above twenty percent power. The Pulsar was truly astounding. He jerked as his hands seemed to catch fire. But the Pulsar's hands were undamaged, and it didn't transmit pain anyway. _It's starting to burn me out. I need to get out. I NEED TO GET OUT! __**LET ME OUT!**__"_ He could hear Lacus yelling the same thing. The world blurred again.

"Command override 141518 accepted. Commencing emergency ejection process." The cockpit hatch slammed open, causing the GRS gel to evacuate the cockpit like blood gushing from a wound. The NIC wires and comm sensors detached from their fixation points at the same time as the Pulsar fell forward onto its hands and knees. Kira was washed out with the gel, semi-conscious at the sudden return to fully feeling his body. The two meter drop onto hard sand didn't help much either. He could feel the blood pouring from his nose, tear ducts and ears as he coughed out blood stained gel, all over the feet of the blurry shape standing over him. Kira fully lost consciousness before he could figure out who it was.

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"There... now don't you ever say I never did you a favor. Though only to make dear Lacus happy." Noah said, smiling at his computer screen. "You gave me some interesting data, Kira Yamato. I guess I can let you keep living for a while longer. And now, for the next pilot..."

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	92. The Isolation, Totality

"Almost would prefer to be fighting Elementals." Eric grumbled, pursuing a pair of M-4 Guardians. "At least those take a good bit of time to change roles. Can't figure out if I'm fighting a tank, a jet or a mobile suit. Whoops!" Eric was forced to rapidly deccelerate to avoid a thick concentration of flak from nine Orb Aegis cruisers. "Nice try, folks, but I'm not quite that stupid." Eric circled around, as the Orb mobile suits did likewise on the other side of the ships, now that their simple ruse had failed. Eric reflected that he probably could have just flown through the flak bursts... the Templars mounted the exotic phase shift armor that rendered them all but immune to non energy weapons... but Eric had learned flying suits that would have been blown to shreds by that anti air fire, and old habits died hard.

"This is Captain Kellson, 71st SMS, you all still out there? Everyone alive and whole?" Eric received four quick affirmations from his unit. The Orb M-4's were damned fine mobile suits, but they were so heavily outnumbered that they spent most of their time running or hiding, rathing than going on the offensive. Some people hadn't even been shot at yet, and the Isolation had lost less than ten mobile suits to M-4 weapons. The battered Gundams of the enemy had accounted for about ten more mobile suits, including a few Cataphracts. But the real Isolationist casualties had come from that terrifying ZAFT Gundam, the Reaper, the one that moved so fast you could barely even keep track of it, and maneuvered like the laws of physics selectively didn't apply to it. More than thirty mobile suits and even one of the nigh impregnable Archmage platforms had fallen to the massive beam sword and superheated chain whips of the ZAFT machine.

Finding out Kira Yamato was now the pilot of the Reaper was no pleasant surprise either. They'd spent three whole days of the four week FSUP (Flight Specialist Unit Program) school just learning about him and watching combat footage of both the Strike and the Freedom, from both Kira's own cockpit camera perspective and the perspectives of various pilots fighting him, with varyingly large degrees of failure. For all that it felt weird, studying the exploits of someone a good five years younger than himself and talking over the guy's strengths and weaknesses like he was some major historical figure, Eric couldn't deny that the guy had skills. If Eric ever piloted the Templar at a tenth of the capacity Kira used the Freedom, Eric could retire a happy man. Some said Yamato was the greatest mobile suit pilot to have yet been discovered, and he didn't even have formal training. Eric had yet to drop an opinion on that front, since he'd never fought Kira in a fair fight. Put them both in something simple, like a Cavalier. No super tuned up Gundams, no fancy electronics... just two guys in grunt mobile suits. That's where the abilities of the pilot would really show themselves.

"Form on me. We're going fishing." Eric ordered. "The way I see it, those Aegis ships are now the biggest impediment to our forces. Water's too shallow for the Devilfish to be able to attack them easily, and their anti air is good enough to cause big problems for the Cavalier's and Dagger JA's. Plus I think it'll do their morale a good thrashing to get their butts kicked by a bunch of "Freedoms"."

"You got it, sir." Lieutenant Hendricks replied with a lot more confidence in his voice. Carpentaria had been a good blooding for them all. Major responsibility, good performance, no deaths or injuries, public recognition afterwards... no better way to boost the confidence of new pilots. Now the trick was just to make sure they didn't get overconfident, because that was even worse than not being confident enough.

"This is how it plays, boys and girls." Eric said, fighting for the jocular ace pilot tone. "We pass over from the west, then abrupt one eighty and go from the east. This is where it gets tricky... after we pass over from the east we scatter and come in from five points. I got top, you guys the standard North, South, West, East. No friendly fire. And could someone please get these fucking bats off my ass?" Barely had Eric spoken than four beams of blue-red and yellow energy passed by him almost close enough to reach out and touch, blowing one M-4 to tiny pieces and causing the other to veer off into a spiraling dive, trailing smoke and fire.

"I got your ass, don't worry sir." Lieutenant Kissinger said lightly.

"Thanks, Lt." _God, is she hitting on me? Wait... why would that be bad... no, no...inter-unit relationships bad, BAD! And she's my subordinate... its a court martial waiting to happen. Still... she does have nice legs... fuck!_ Eric fought a battle harder than the one happening around him to drag his mind off non-combat related activities. Flak burst all around him and missiles arced up at his unit from all sides, but while Eric and the 71st SMS were no bunch of Kira's, they were still more than good enough to use weapons and CIWS to counter a few missiles. They didn't hit any of the ships on their first pass, but on the one eighty reversal they left two of the trimaran cruisers buckled and sinking, with a third covered almost from bow to stern with raging flames. The 71st SMS split up, each pilot circling around to a different compass direction, or in Eric's case, flying straight up. The Orb air defense gunners would be ready to concentrate their fire now, after being passed over twice... what they wouldn't be ready for would be getting hit from five different directions all at the same time.

The hard part of this maneuver was not accidentally shooting the squadronmate flying directly opposite you, since you were converging on each other, or in Eric's case, hitting anyone since they were all flying across his arc of fire. However, with modern day HUD systems and constant verbal communication, it wasn't impossibly difficult. Enemy flak fire was sporadic, as each individual ship had to redirect to protect itself from multiple angles of attack. Coming down out of the sun, Eric almost didn't get attacked at all. After the 71st SMS reformed from the strafing run, only two Aegis ships remained afloat, both of which were severely damaged. Five mobile suits had wiped out almost half the Orb fleet in a matter of minutes. Eric could almost feel the medal on his chest, or better yet, the news headlines framed on his wall. It wasn't that he was a glory hound... well, to be honest, pretty much every mobile suit pilot was a glory hound... but if you did a good job, it was only right to be recognized for it, in his opinion. Certainly made getting free beer easier. "Yeah... I'm a mobile suit ace..." that was good for about three beers right there. He never brought up the APMH (Allied Presidential Medal of Honor) he'd got though... using that to get free drinks felt like sullying the prestige of the medal. Most people didn't even know he had it. He heard that was somewhat common. Well, thats what Lieutenant Finch had told him anyway, when President Argyle had awarded it to him personally.

Eric had spied something on his flight up to his diving point earlier that he resolved to check out now. "On me again. I thought I saw something... oh fuck!" Eric dodged so frantically he momentarily lost control of his Templar. A good thing too, because the beam blast spearing up from the tank mode M-4 hidden in the tree's below only scorched away a chunk of shoulder armor and one of his HiMat wing sections, instead of taking him through the cockpit. "Where the fuck...?"

"I got him, sir!" Hendricks replied, anger evident in his voice. Eric was fairly shocked by that... he knew his unit thought well of him, but he hadn't thought they'd take an attack on him personally. Hendricks charged the Orb mobile suit, his cannons vaporizing entire sections of the forest. It certinly looked destructive, but Eric watched his screens more than his cameras and Hendricks wasn't hitting jack shit. In fact...

"Hendricks! Evade now!" Eric shouted, but by then it was too late. An M-4 in jet form, almost certainly the same one that had almost sniped Eric, flashed down out of the sun, machine cannons chattering as it loosed four missiles into the back of Hendricks's Templar. Of course the missiles and cannon fire couldn't penetrate the phase shift armor, but the kinetic impacts knocked the advanced machine spinning anyway. "Hendricks!" The Orb mobile suit shifted to mobile suit form as it passed Hendricks, reversing thrust and swinging its left arm, with rifle instead of shield, out wide, beams and cannon fire lancing out at the other four members of the 71st SMS, forcing them to cover behind their shields for a precious few seconds. Hendricks was just recovering from the missile impacts when the M-4's right arm came around, lit beam saber in hand. Kira would have evaded like it was nothing. Eric had seen him do it many times in the vids. Hendricks was not Kira. He froze up and screamed. And died, his Templar sliced in half at the middle torso, both halves then exploded before they could even hit the ground. Eric and the rest of the 71st SMS could only stare in shock... it had been so sudden. The M-4 turned back into jet form right before their eyes and made to hit the afterburners.

The M-4 was just pulling away when a massive blue-red beam from below blasted pretty much the entire rear third of the machine into spare atoms. The mobile suit-jet went into an immediate death spiral, and the pilot ejected scant seconds before his ruined machine ploughed into the ground and exploded violently. Eric's targeting reticule passed over the orange suited pilot as he rode his escape harness to the ground... all it would take would be a button tap and Hendricks's killer would be gone. Eric shook his head fiercly and jerked his hand away from the firing controls. Much as Hendricks's sudden loss pained him, he couldn't gun down an helpless pilot who was just defending his country under orders. "Neeley, Mario, go find out where he lands and take him captive. Don't kill him." Eric ordered the other two members of the 71st SMS. "Kissinger, come with me. We still need to check something out." Eric turned his eyes downward and sure enough saw the Independence below. "Did you see it too, sir?"

"The ZAFT Gundam is down. We can't miss this chance to capture or destroy it." Ashino agreed. There was a several second pause. "Er... my condolences for the loss..."

"You got him back, sir. It's a war. People die in wars." Eric replied, choking back the feelings that would come later.

"That they do." Ashino agreed, heading for the beach where the Pulsar was kneeling, flanked by a Templar on either side.

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"I just cannot get over how perverse the world is." Frost commented, disbelief heavy in his voice. Here he was, injured, hurting, berefit of a mobile suit, for most intents and purposes soundly defeated... and yet fate had seen fit to leave Kira Yamato at his feet, helpless as a new born babe, drooling blood and some sort of weird pink gel all over Frost's boots just moments after he finally made it to shore. Yamato was clearly unconscious and obviously suffering from internal injuries of various sorts, which would explain the bleeding from pretty much every visible orifice. Frost's remaining eye was quick to notice the char marks on portions of the flight suit, especially along the arms and legs. Whatever else had happened to the Ultimate Coordinator, he'd obviously been playing with some pretty high voltages when he shouldn't have. Electrical burns were nasty. Maybe not the nastiest, but worse than just sticking your hand in a fire.

"Now the question remains... just what do I do with you? I've dreamed of a moment like this almost from the first day I met you, Kira Yamato. But now that the moment is upon me, I'm drawing a blank. Its very frustrating." Frost sank into a cross legged sitting position and cupped his chin on one hand as he studied the Coordinator. Frost's own burned and seared skin twinged, but he ignored it. It was more annoying dealing with only having half as much vision than it was just more physical pain. Not that the loss of an eye was much more than a cosmetic handicap, since Frost's other senses were keen enough to compensate, but it was very annoying. "I don't have any of the tools an artist like me needs to properly work. I don't even have a sharp stick, to prod you with. Can you imagine how that feels? You're not even awake!" Frost slapped Kira across the jaw a few times, but the Ultimate Coordinator was well and truly out. Perhaps even comatose... there was no telling how much electrical damage his nervous system had sustained.

"Well, I can't just let you die of shock and exposure alone. That would be entirely inappropriate. This is quite a quandry." Frost looked around the beach. It was pretty barren, not much more than sand. Not any large rocks, or driftwood, or even any animal life he could detect. Just him, and Kira and the ZAFT Gundam kneeling nearby, pinkish gel still dripping out of the cockpit like ichor from a wound. "You've gone and done so much to me, Kira. Can I call you Kira? I don't have a name for you yet, really. Annoying Pest doesn't quite get the point across, and it applies to more than just you anyway. Loser boyfriend is already taken. I'll have to give it some thought." Frost trailed a hand across Kira's unflinching face and petted his head a few times. "They always look so cute when they're sleeping." Frost chuckled. He stood up and pulled Yamato up with him, yanking out a fistful of hair as he switched grips to put an hand around Kira's throat.

"What I'd really like to do is leave a message for Pink. But it can't be something she's expecting. No, I won't play her game like that. So that rules out pretty much every form of conventional torture. And I don't fancy guys, even pretty boys like you." Frost paused, looking down at the scas covering his own body as he had something of an epiphany. "Ahhhhh! Eureka, as they say!" Frost chuckled again. He dropped Kira to the ground again, and knelt beside him again. He cradled Kira's head in one arm, and from a distance someone might have mistaken it as tenderness. "Losing all that blood... you must be thirsty. I've got just the thing!" Frost used his left hand to force open Kira's jaw, cracking a few teeth in the process but that was okay. He brought his right wrist up to his own mouth and savagely tore at it with his teeth, ripping a deep gash. He spat into the gash and worked the saliva around with his tongue, to make sure the wound would bleed freely for at least a little while. Frost lowered his bleeding wrist over Kira's face, dribbling some of the blood on him like a sacrificial offering.

"Do you know what sort of chemical additives there are in BCPU blood, Kira? No? Neither do I. However I do know there are on the order of twenty or more of them, and at least a few of those can't be healthy for an unaltered human, even a Coordinator. But your immune system is strong... I think it would take a pretty concentrated dose to kill you right away." Frost pumped his right hand into a fist a few times to get the blood flowing strongly and started dripping a steady stream into Kira's forced open mouth. "What's the dosage, do you think? At what point will you become addicted to the combat drugs? To the uppers and downers that are supposed to regulate my moods and keep me docile, or else turn me into a raging berserker. How will you deal with the withdrawal symptoms from lack of gamma glipheptim? That one is especially insidious... it tastes so good and lets you do such wonderful things... but the fall after the high is just plain sadistic. Most aren't even able to stand, or do anything besides mewl like a struck kitten. But how much do you think it will take... five ounces? Ten? A pint? More? I may not look it, but I've got blood to spare, at least for the next little while." Kira started choking on the fluid filling his mouth. "Ah ah ah! Careful, can't have you choking to death." Frost took his right arm away and massaged Kira's throat, kneading the muscles, forcing him to swallow.

"No, I want you to live, at least for a few more days. Long enough for you to try to explain to dear Pink why you have an unassailable craving to drink my blood. Long enough for you to become a washed out druggie, raiding the medicine cabinets in frantic search of the chems to stave off the withdrawal symptoms. Will she be horrified? Repulsed? Pitying? After all, you won't be able to help yourself. Unless you go crazy. Insanity is the only sure defense against the withdrawal symptoms." Frost waited to hear Kira gasping for air, indicating his throat was clear again. He spat on his torn wrist once again and recommenced the force feeding. "Wouldn't that be something for her to see, you, straightjacketed and strapped to a table for the rest of your life, screaming in terrible chemical induced agony, gibbering and thrashing and maybe even killing? After all, what's a little blood on your hands and face if it means a few hours relief from the pain? What expression would cross her face, do you think?" Frost sighed blissfully. "But don't worry too much... with you out of the way, it won't take me too long to figure out a way to get her too. Or maybe you'll get her for me? Wouldn't that be a trip? Lacus Clyne Attacked and Slain by Homicidal Druggie Boyfriend... the papers would be sold out for months!"

Frost heard Kira start to choke again, so he went back to massaging the Ultimate Coordinator's neck. Meanwhile he glanced around what portions of the battlefield he could see. "Looks like your side is well and truly fucked, Yamato. The Archangel is a ruin, though it is still intact so I guess dear old granpa Asmodeus's plan went wrong somewhere. Serves him right... thats the problem with plans... they go wrong. He just wasn't flexible enough to deal with it... though he was doing a lot better these last few weeks. I trashed your precious Gundams and wore out the pilots, before you showed up and humiliated me again. They're just barely hanging on against the Isolationists and I don't think they can keep it up. And even if they do win, so what? Sai can get another fleet here before Orb can recover from this disaster that we of Tiamat caused, and you sure as hell won't beat that fleet. Face it, Yamato... you've lost. The Clyne Faction is done. Game over. Hmm... waking up?" Frost listened to Kira choke and sputter. "Ah, blood clot, my bad." Frost bent down to spit on his wrist again. As he did so he caught sight of something approaching rapidly out of the corner of his eye.

"As the historical villians used to say... curses, foiled again!" Frost turned to see the Independence and two Freedom's making an unmistakable course for the beach where Frost was sitting with Kira. Frost squeeed a few more splurts into Kira's mouth from his wrist and then quickly massaged Kira's neck to force him to swallow again. "It'll have to be enough. Feeling refreshed now, space monster? Space vampire, now." Frost jumped to his feet and raced for the open cockpit of the Pulsar. "Ciao, Yamato. Say hello to Pink for me! If you can remember how to TALK through the PAIN!" Frost laughed outright. It felt good. "Now... lets see what I can do with this weird and wonderful machine of Uncle's. If Yamato could pilot it, theres no way I can't!" Frost jumped up and swung himself into the cramped cockpit. "What's this? No chair? No controls? No screen? What the fuck is this?" efore Frost could say any more, the cckpit hatch hissed shut behind him.

"Initiating aerated suspension gel flow." the computer said in a neutral electronic voice. Shutters whined open on vents around the circumference of the floor and the sound of pumps pumping air came from them. "Gel flow impossible. Storage tanks empty. Time to complete nano-refilling of storage tanks... twelve days. Continuing with synchronization process."

"I didn't get much of that." Frost admitted, looking around the cockpit. It was like being stuck in a barrel. He hoped this synchronization process didn't take long... it would be embarassing to be blown up in a captured Gundam while it was still starting up.

"Comm sensors deploying, open wide." the sticky pads on their armatures would probably have unnerved most pilots, but Frost was used to machines sticking things in various parts of his body, willingly or not. It made him feel almost nostalgic for the tables in good old sub-level six. Frost opened his mouth and let the machine attach the comm sensors to his layrnx, quickly tuning out the minor irritation of the wires bushing against his burn ravaged lips. "Primary power idling at one percent. Increasing power to five percent. Secondary power systems aligned and charged. Cooling system blue, green. Initiating Neural Interface Control System linkage. Please remain stationary." The computer directed. Frost didn't flinch from the silvery tentacles sprouting from the walls and ceiling. Even when they started questing along his skin, popping the burn blisters as they burrowed into the meat of his body and head. The wires had a brief problem penetrating his reinforced skull, but with a faint smell of burning flesh they finally managed to penetrate. Frost blinked a few times.

"NIC connection confirmed. System test complete. All nerve connections satisfactory. Brain control centers contacted and confirmed. All system functions nominal. New pilot detected. Synchornizing... synchro... synchronizing complete. Welcome, Zacharis Frost."

"And just how did you know who I am?" Frost asked suspiciously. The machine did not reply. Frost was about to say more when suddenly his universe seemed to expand without limit. The Pulsar's red ocular lenses flared brightly, like a vampire's at dusk. He could feel the fusion pulse reactor... how he knew that was what it was was beyond him... beating like a chained sun in his breast. The feeling of sheer power was incredible. Frost started chuckling, seeing the control system laid out in his mind. It was perfect. It was everything he never could have imagined would exist for him... the ability to fight with a mobile suit with the same degree of freedom he did with his own body. "Commencing system test. All weapons sat. Positron Reflector Shields sat. Nano-repair facilities operating at ninety nine percent, one hundred percent within the next hour. Gravitic Reduction System operating at minimum capability. Initiating system control limitations until GRS returns to full operation. Time to full operation without recourse to repair facility... twelve days. Pulsar... ready for limited operation launch."

"Limited operation? What the fuck does that mean, you stupid machine?" Frost shouted. But then his mind caught on a word. Pulsar. The same world dear old Doc had begged him to remember. "So. So, so, so so... this is what you meant. You crafty, tricksy wonderful bastard! You meant this aggravating and beautiful machine! I should have known Uncle wouldn't be piloting something like this if you weren't aware of it! Oh, I could hug you to death again, Doc!" Frost clambered to his feet and turned to face the Independence and the two Freedoms, which were just alighting on the sand a few dozen meters away.

"Mr. Yamato, please surrender. You cannot win." Ashino's voice crackled through the comm system. "Your forces are outnumbered and outmatched. The longer you delay your decision, the more people will die."

"I agree entirely." Frost replied with a huge grin. There was a shocked silence on the comm line. The Independence and the two Freedoms seemed to freeze like statues. "Yeeesss... its me, little Ashino. It's been a while, little brother. How are things working out with that girl? Jean, wasn't that her name? Does she still like being hurt? I can give you a few tips, if you like."

"That won't be necessary." Ashino couldn't hide the trepidation in his voice. Bad enough when Kira had been in that monstrous Gundam... now Frost too? But he couldn't let Frost think he had the upper hand... if he did, all of them were going to die. They were all going to die in all likelihood anyway, but it was a certainty if Frost thought he had the upper hand. "Fine then. Even you can't beat all of us, especially in a machine you've never flown before, Frost."

"This machine... the Pulsar... the Doc meant for me to pilot it. When I killed him, he told me to look for something having to do with the word Pulsar. He said it would help me achieve my destiny. I never would have guessed it would be something like this though. Its truly wonderful, isn't it? A dream come true... and not even a nightmare." Frost capered in place and then turned a few back handsprings, without even using the thrusters. He ended up doing a handstand, looking at Ashino and his lackey's from the upside down perspective. "They called those things Freedoms... this Pulsar... this is FREEDOM!"

"How the fuck is he doing that, sir?" Eric asked, eyeing the Pulsar, which was now dancing on its hands. "And how does he know about Jean? And what the FUCK is his deal? I never heard anyone so fucking evil sounding in my life, not even in movies! Not since that time in... Pana... ma..."

"Same guy." Ashino confirmed.

"That's really bad... he's more than just a little good."

"Sirs, what the fuck are two talking about?" Lieutenant Kissinger broke into the conversation, warily eying the ZAFT Gundam and its impossible acrobatic antics. Now the damn thing was turning cartwheels and hands free front flips, all without using more than its own body. The Templar was about as maneuverable and agile a mobile suit as was ever made... but not even Kira Yamato could do a handstand in one, or an un-thruster assisted flip. The kind of control systems you would need... Kissinger couldn't even imagine.

"Our opponent is now a BCPU. Just like me, but faster, stronger, more skilled and wholly insane. He kills for sport and pleasure and enjoys torturing his victims to death. If it looks like he's going to take you alive... kill yourself. It would be better."

"He's better than you, sir?" Kissinger asked, eyes wide. Like most FSUP graduates, she'd flown against Ashino on several simulation exercises... and like most FSUP graduates, she'd been totally owned by him. It hadn't even been a contest. He could take two or even three of them on at once.

"Zacharis Frost is the only person I know able to fight both Athrun Zala and Kira Yamato to a standstill at the same time." Ashino answered. "Having him inside that terrible machine now... do not fight him. We must avoid fighting him directly unless we have overwhelming odds. Even then..." Ashino swallowed hard.

"I'm getting kinda bored over here, little Ashino. Are you going to make a move, or is it my turn?" Frost called, flipping the Pulsar to it's feet and drawing the two handed beam sword. Twenty five meters of razor steel and magnetically sheathed plasma edging. He was getting hard just looking at it. "WARNING! Pilot intent exceeds limited operation parameters! Abort planned course of action or severe injury or death will occur!" The Pulsar's computer blared at him. "Shut the hell up! You're ruining the mood!"

"Command override 14-15-1-8 accepted. Commencing automatic retreat programming, constrained by limited operation parameters. Normal control will resume shortly." The Pulsar said calmly. Frost froze... he was locked out of the control systems faster than he could think. He still had comms, but that was about it. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I DON'T RETREEEAAAAT!" Frost snarled, even as the Pulsar launched... not going anywhere near as fast as it could of course, since without the suspension gel the pilot would be destroyed by any sudden or high speed maneuvers, which would result in the Pulsar being captured by the Isolation forces, which was a logical impossibility for the Pulsar's action memory. It could not be allowed. It would overload the FPR if it had to, but it had received a command override from the NIC master control program suggesting retreat instead. Flying at about the same speed as a normal high speed mobile suit, the Pulsar picked the safest course and made speed for Antarctica. It detected no pursuit.

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"Patience, patience." Noah said soothingly, though of course there was no way Frost could hear him, since Noah was on the PLANTS with only a data link active, not voice comms and Frost was in the Pulsar on Earth. Quantum communications were such useful things, allowing almost instantaneous data transfer at high speed across astronomical distances. Unlike radio or even laser comms, quantum comms operated by changing states of matter on a quantum level, in which distance did not matter. Basically, it operated on the principle that any piece of quantum matter A, in energy state B was identical to all other quantum matter A at energy state B ANYWHERE in the universe. Moreover, if you changed one quantum matter A to energy state C, all other identical quantum matter A's also changed to energy state C. The physics behind it were way beyond most people, but it did work. For Noah, the quantum data link with the Pulsar allowed him to record the brainwaves and neural pathways of anyone synchronized with the NIC system, giving him gigabytes of raw data to sift through for useful subroutines for his automated mobile suit pilot program.

"Give it a few days, BCPU. Let the system self regerante the supension gel and then you can pursue slaughter to my hearts content. And after I get all the data I need from you utilizing the Pulsar to your maximum ability, I'll kill you off and get someone else. Perhaps Zala, who knows? But I do expect you to get me some VERY interesting data, Zacharis Frost. Show me what my uncle's creations can do. But not yet. Not yet." Noah smiled briefly and then turned his attention to other matters.

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"Uhhh..." Eric said, surprised. Here Ashino had gone and talked up Frost like he was a real end of the world bad guy, and he'd just up and flown off without even fighting. Kissinger had been about to go after him, but Ashino had ordered her back, assuming the retreat to be a ruse. But it hadn't been. Frost had legitimately retreated and showed no signs of returning.

"It doesn't make any sense." Ashino sounded confused. "That was Frost... but he's not acting like Frost. We should all be dead now. He was going to kill us. I know he was. I am at a loss to explain this."

"We both saw how Kira Yamato wasn't in full control of the machine earlier. Maybe same thing for this Frost?" Eric ventured.

"It's as good a theory as any." Ashino allowed. He turned the Independence to regard the still fierce battle around the Archangel. "Well, with that variable removed, this fight really is over."

"Sirs! There's a body... no, a person! On the beach there!" Kissinger pointed with her Templar's right arm. "He looks hurt!"

"Could it be...?" Ashino wondered, musing on this new turn. Eric wasted no time in descending from his own Templar and sprinting over towards the body revealed lying on the tideline. He didn't even think to bring a gun... but he had two people in Gundams backing him up, and if the guy really WAS Kira Yamato... well, they'd also studied the fact that Yamato, for all his piloting skills, really wasn't too hot in a physical brawl. Sure he was still a Coordinator and he could probably kick Eric's ass... but it wouldn't be one sided.

Eric skidded to a halt next to the guy... young man, really... and dropped to a knee in a puff of sand to get a better look at him. Even with the blood and burn marks, Eric had no trouble identifying the guy. They had studied him after all. "It's Yamato. He's unconscious and looks badly wounded. What should I do, sir?"

"Don't ask me that. My intentions... are compromised, by my conditioning." Ashino replied, sounding like he was fighting his own words. "I want to kill him. But it would be wrong. Get him out of my sight, quickly." Ashino turned off his cameras as he said that, and clutched his hands to his sides to help stop the shaking. He bit down on his lip. Kira was his enemy. He could not doubt that. Without Lacus nearby to distract him and confuse his instincts, the kill urge was much stronger than usual. He would be doing a service to the Isolation by stepping on Yamato here and now. But... but Jean would never understand stepping on a helpless boy like he was a bug. Even if he was an enemy. Ashino didn't know what to do, but he knew someone would. "Connect me to the President. It is extremely urgent."

Meanwhile Eric was conducting some basic first aid, though there wasn't much to do. Kira had no external injuries at all, as far as Eric could detect. That he was still badly injured was more than apparent, from the blood still seeping from his tear ducts, ears and nose. Not even mentioning a thick gummy scab almost like leather that was caked all around his teeth and mouth. "Yuck! What the fuck is this crap? Don't look like blood... say... maybe it does. Hey sir! Markov... Commander Ashino, I mean. I know you said don't ask you... but theoretically speaking... what would happen if someone ingested a bunch of BCPU blood?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, but I doubt it would do them much good." Asino gritted out, still waiting for his comm system to decrypt and connect with the presidential line. "Our blood contains several chemicals known to be toxic to animals and plants, as well as many different types of combat drugs and stabilizers, not to mention the clotting chemicals. It would depend on how much someone ingested. Drink enough and it would probably be like poison or a drug OD. How much has he drunk?"

"I haven't the slighest fucking clue, but theres a lot of the stuff on his face. What the hell was Frost doing to him, bleeding on him on purpose?" Eric picked Kira up in a fireman carry and staggered back towards the Templar. Kira wasn't especially heavy, but Eric had to be extra careful carrying him because he didn't know what sort of internal injuries the kid had...excessive motion could aggravate them and even kill the kid.

"Frost's actions are usually near impossible to reason out. It might be he was merely badly wounded by the detonation of the Fury and bled on Kira as he stood over him, debating how he would kill one of the people he hates most in the world. It also could be that Frost deliberately injured himself further in an attempt to contaminate Kira with his blood. There is no way of telling."

"He slit his own wrist and forced an unconscious kid to drink his potentially toxic BLOOD? He IS fucked up!" Kissinger commented, revolted.

"We haven't even scratched the surface." Ashino replied. "I will spare you further details, as they are both classified and too obscene to talk about amongst friends." Finally his call went through to Sai's office.

"Markov! You're calling rather sooner than I expected. What's the problem?" A very tired looking Sai said. Ashino checked the time difference... it was past midnight where Sai was, at the new governmental headquarters in the Rocky Mountains of old Colorado.

"If I said I've managed to capture Kira Yamato alive, what would that mean? What should I do with him? I want to kill him, sir. Well, the conditioning does. But... that wouldn't be ethical. He's unconscious and injured, partly due to some sort of meeting with Frost." Ashino blurted out. Sai stared at him.

"If it was anyone else but you I'd say you were messing around. But you still don't really know how to joke, Markov, so I'll assume you are serious." Sai rubbed at his forehead. A problem like this was not something he needed dropped in his lap at one in the morning. Especially since he was still dealing with the paperwork from the Isolation proceedings in the former ZAFT holdings, AND the problems with decontaminating New New York City. Fortunately the gas hadn't spread far outside the city limits... out where people like Jean Kellson, Ashino's girlfriend, lived everything was normal, like there'd never been an attack. Inside the city limits, everything was still mass chaos, with dozens of new gas victims every day as rescue workers succumbed or looters snuck into the death zones without realizing it. Pretty much everything for a three block radius around Central Park was going to be impossible to enter without a fully self contained survival suit for at least two years. And then there was the mess the mobile suit battle had made of the harbor area. Billions in damages. It was enough to give him a migraine. "What's the status of the battle? I know you were forced to start before the deadline was up, but I haven't been keeping both eyes on the action."

"The Archangel was crippled by a Tiamat attack before the battle even began. Likewise, the enemy Gundams were largely worn out in a battle against Frost, even if they ultimately defeated him and destroyed the Fury. Kira Yamato piloted that ZAFT Gundam that caused us so much trouble on the Moon, how the Clyne Faction got hold of it is unknown. He attacked our fleet without warning and caused severe damage, killing more than thirty mobile suits and sinking several ships before disengaging and apparently ejecting from the machine." Ashino reported.

"Kira? Attacking without warning and killing people? That's not Kira." Sai said flatly. "Whatever else he is, Kira holds himself to the highest standards... he would never willingly kill anyone except for people for which there was no other way of stopping them."

"That was my read on him too, sir, but the combat footage is incontrovertible. It will be in the AAR (After Action Report)." Ashino replied, as Eric's Templar took off and headed back to the _Victorious_, Kissinger following behind as an escort since Eric could barely even fly with Kira lying across half his controls, which was making a shocking mess of the cockpit surfaces. "After ejecting Kira apparently had some encounter with Frost that left him unconscious and severely injured, which is how we found him. Frost escaped in the unoccupied Gundam. My subordinates are currently taking Kira back to our flagship for medical care. What are your orders, sir?"

"Is the battle ours?" Sai was standing now, and pulling on a coat even as he talked.

"All but. Another hour or two at most... the Clyne Faction and Orb are being very stubborn about surrendering, despite the inevitable nature of their defeat. We will win, but we will suffer more casualties and many of your former comrades will likely have to die. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. There's a change in plans. Call a cease fire."

"A cease fire, sir? What does that do for us?"

"I've thought of a way to win this fight without any more casualties on our side. Well, so I hope anyway. My plan relies on certain people acting within their usual characters, but I think the odds for success are more than high enough to make it a worthy gamble. Defend yourselves if attacked, but leave the Archangel and Orb be. I'll be there in less than six hours. And don't let Kira die. Those are my orders." Sai walked out of the vid-comm's view, and it turned off automatically shortly after.

"All forces... this is Commander Ashino. Break off and return to the fleet. Repeating, break off and return to the fleet. Return fire if fired upon, but cease all hostile action, by presidential order. Mr. Argyle has a new plan. All forces, withdraw now." Ashino ordered calmly, reassured once more now that he had specific orders. He looked at the wrecked Archangel as he flew past. He was reasonably sure he had a basic grasp of what Sai was thinking. He almost thought he could see a flash of pink hair through the bridge windows of the Archangel, but he was probably just imagining things. "It's for the best to surrender, Lacus. Just like in the cell block that time."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why the hell did they retreat? It doesn't make any sense! They had us right where they wanted us!" Ysak slammed a fist into a bulkhead in frustration. It had been almost six hours since the Isolationist forces had suddenly and inexplicably ceased their assault on the Orb forces and the downed Archangel, mere minutes before overwhelming them. The Isolationists had just up and turned around, breaking off even heated duels and retreating with all speed to their fleet. A few Orb mobile suits had started pursuing them, before being called back by Waltfeld and Kisaka, fearful of some strange ambush strategy. But there had been nothing... as far as any long range sensor scans could determine, the Isolationist forces were standing down, resting, refitting and rearming, just like the Orb forces were endeavoring to do.

"I ain't gonna bitch... least this gives us a slight bit more of a fighting chance when they come back." Dearka replied, leaning against a different wall. What mechanics could be spared from the Orb fleet were frantically working on restoring the Gundams as quickly as possible, but who knew how much they'd be able to get done. Arm replacements weren't an especially quick process, and the Rubicon was basically scrap. The Duelist was mostly combat ready, but one out of four wasn't very good, especially with the Archangel itself still all but useless. Added to the fact that the regular Orb forces had lost roughly half their mobile suits and ships and things were looking real grim. "Least we got Frost pretty good."

"Yeah? And you know what? We're still down Kira! I don't like him anywhere near as much as the rest of you guys, but even I can't deny he was a big part of our combat strength!" Ysak shot back. "Who knows where he is... probably dead!"

"Not so loud." Athrun shushed, looking around cautiously. "You especially, Ysak. We don't know what happened to Kira, all we know is the Pulsar has disappeared. Saying Kira is dead when we don't know for sure is going to only negatively impact crew morale. Don't even think about it if you can... you know Lacus will pick up on it!"

"You don't need to try and spare my feelings, Athrun." Lacus said, striding into the conference room a few levels below the bridge of the Archangel where they were due to hold their command meeting shortly. There were tear tracks on her face, but she was currently dry eyed, even managing a sort of smile. "I would know if Kira was dead. He's not within my sensing range right now, but he is not dead. One moment the Pulsar's OS was killing him, the next he was gone... but he is NOT dead."

"I know you really want to believe that... hell, we all do... but..." Katie spoke up.

"Katie, don't..." Cagalli tried to say. Katie shook her head.

"No, you have to consider it. People die. We don't want it to happen, but it does. I know that as well as anyone. Victor died saving the ship, and both Alkire and Raine almost died. They're still in critical condition. I felt Victor die, and it felt very similar to what happened to Kira. I really, really hope he's alive, Lacus, Cagalli... but theres a good chance he's not."

"I would know." Lacus said firmly, in a tone that brooked no further argument. She changed the subject. "We've recovered the Liberty, but it is damaged beyond flying. We have people working on it, but they estimate at least twelve hours or more before it becomes even minimally flyable." Lacus broke off as Murrue, Kisaka and Waltfeld entered the room, well aware of the concerned looks everyone thought they were discreetly shooting her. But she saw them. Saw them and ignored them. Kira was NOT dead. She would know if he was. She would.

"I don't suppose anyone here has any good idea why the Isolationist's left off pounding us into the ground? I put some money on tea and crackers, but no one will take that bet." Waltfeld said, trying for some levity. God knows they could use a smile or two.

"It doesn't make any military sense. At most another hour would have seen the Archangel destroyed and our forces all but annihilated." Kisaka said, clearly surprised as well. "All we would have been able to do would be inflict casualties, and they had troops to spare."

"Well, they still do. Maybe they think we're going to surrender now that we're not under life and death attack?" Miriallia reasoned.

"Maybe... but Ashino, for all his skills, isn't devious like that. He had orders to keep killing us till we gave up, just like he did for Carpentaria. Its not like him to order a sudden inexplicable retreat. BCPU's don't really retreat, especially when they have the advantage." Athrun said with a frown.

"Well, I'm not going to surrender." Cagalli said firmly. "I can't ask you all to die for my country, but I am NOT surrendering to Sai or the Isolation. If Kira is dead, then I would never dishonor his memory by giving up. If he's alive, then I have to keep fighting until he can come back. It's that simple."

"We've all already said we're going to see this through to the end. I don't think we need to go through that ritual again." Murrue said with a half smile. "The starboard Gottfried will be back online in less than two hours, but for the forseeable future the Archangel is grounded. The mobile suits are a problem themselves, but what really scares me is those Archmage platforms. They have Lohengrins... what are we going to do about that?"

"Well..." Dearka was interrupted by a pinging from the intercomm. Interior communications was another system they'd magaed to jury rig repairs for during the inexplicable grace period.

"This is Captain Ramius." Murrue answered it.

"Captain, this is the bridge. We're receiving a vid-comm from the Isolationist flagship. They want to speak to someone in charge." Murrue exchanged surprised glances with everyone else... this was very unexpected.

"Patch them through." Murrue ordered after only a seconds hesitation. It would do no harm to talk a little. Maybe they would gain a better understanding of the situation. The conference room vidscreen, which took up most of a wall, fitzed and crackled, slowly fading into focus. It wasn't Ashino. The room the other broadcast was coming from looked like it was in the medical suite of a large ship. Everything was spotlessly white, with lots of advanced looking medical gear gathered around a twin sized bed in the middle of the room. Someone was in the bed, covered by the sheets and hooked up to the various machines, but they couldn't see who it was. Sai Argyle sat in a chair by the head of the bed, looking rumpled and tired in a plain grey suit. Standing on the other side of the bed was Lieutenant Cyprus Finch, formerly of the Hellhounds. A second bodyguard, a short spanish looking man, leaned against the wall behind the head of the bed, but he was unfamiliar to the members of the Clyne Faction. "President Argyle. This is unexpected. I could have sworn we had nothing further to say to you."

"You're hardly in a position to be so rude to me, Captain Ramius." Sai replied, not rising to the arch tone of her voice. "But I can understand that your current situation is somewhat distressing, so by all means, take it out on me. I don't mind."

"Did you call for a reason, or are you just here to gloat?" Cagalli spat.

"I don't have the time or inclination to gloat. Despite what you may believe, invading my former nation by force is not easy for me. I would really prefer not to do it at all, but I don't have any choice. I can't make Orb the sole exception to the Isolation, it just won't work that way." Sai exhaled tiredly and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. It was plain he was exhausted. "I normally wouldn't be here at all... I have much more important things to do that oversee the subjugation of a single small nation like Orb... but matters have been brought to my attention... personal matters I had to take care of in person."

"I suppose you're going to enlighten us sometime soon as to what those are? And to why you're in a hospital room?" Athrun asked pointedly. Sai gave him a weary little smile.

"I'm almost afraid to do this, but I'm reasonably certain you can't hate me too much more than you already do, Mr. Zala. Which is too bad, because I really don't hate you, as a person. I did once, but now you just frustrate me, the same as Cagalli does."

"Stick it up your ass, you worm. I still haven't forgetten how you tried to ruin my reputation by leaking that story about my father not being my real father!" Cagalli retorted furiously.

"Yes, that was my fault. I apologize, but it was Cervantes who did that, not me. And by the way, you don't have to maintain public appearances here... everyone you can see already knows you're not Nara Attha's daughter."

"Who my biological father is is irrelevant to who my REAL father is. My real father is the person who raised me with love and understanding, not some guy in a photo I never met!"

Sai nodded once. "I see, and I understand what you mean. But as interesting as this is, it isn't why I called you." Sai pressed a button on the side of the hospital bed, causing the head of the bed to lever upwards to a forty five degree angle, giving everyone a clear view of the face of the person in the bed.

"KIRA!" Lacus wasn't the only one who shouted, but it was her voice that made the most impression. Sai blinked in surprise as he almost felt the emotions of Lacus. Ramierez, behind him, likewise jerked in surprise. Cyprus didn't even twitch. "What did you do to him?"

"Rendered necessary medical care." Sai replied calmly, regaining control of his emotions. He had known this was going to be the hard part, but he hadn't anticpated such a fierce welling of emotions. "He was found lying on a beach, unconscious and injured, by Ashino and several of his soldiers. They brought him back to our fleet where we took care of the injuries... I'd be interested to learn where he managed to acquire electrical burns on the **inside** of his body, but not the outside, by the way? It quite has the doctors here stumped, because there's not a wound on him. All the same, he is in critical condition from the interior burns and bleeding from several organs. We've managed to stop the internal bleeding and we treated him for shock, but he has yet to regain consciousness. Some doctors have said it could be days, if not longer, before he wakes, if he does. There is a chance... roughly five percent... that he will remain comatose for the rest of his natural life. I'm transmitting the medical analysis, if you don't believe me."

"No... whatever else you are... you've never been a liar, Sai." Murrue said quietly. "But I get the feeling there is more you have to say."

"I do. In addition to his initial injuries, Kira has also managed to ingest almost a pint of blood. Not just any blood mind, but the chemically fortified and enhanced blood of a BCPU, likely Frost from the reports I received. I myself do not know exactly what compounds make up BCPU blood, but I have a partial list provided by Ashino. I'll display it for you." A box appeared on the bottom of the screen and started scrolling a list of complex chemical names... none less than twelve syllables. "For those of us without doctorates in biochemistry, let me summarize... Kira has injested large doses of combat drugs designed to regulate and supress certain emotions, as well as other drugs designed to increase muscle strength, bone density, blood coagulation speed, tissue growth, reaction time and visual acuity. He has also injested a large amount of the stabilizing compound gamma glipheptim, a extremely addictive substance with agonizingly painful withdrawal symptoms that can last for days if not longer, according to Ashino. Some of the drugs are toxic to unaltered humans, in addition to other effects. We've done what we can to detoxify him... but we have no idea how successful the process was."

"What purpose does drugging Kira have? Besides just being totally disgusting?" Miriallia shivered at the mere thought of having blood like that poured down her throat.

"Well, it is Frost we're talking about. But according to Ashino, Kira may wake, if he does, addicted to various of the drugs he's ingested, none of which are commonly available even to the military, much less civilian pharmacies. He might also suffer emotional and even nervous system problems caused by damage to his brain chemistry from some of the other drugs. Kira might be chemically dependent on some of these drugs for the rest of his natural life, depending on how good his immune system is at fighting the drugs. Its all up in the air right now, I'm afraid to say."

"Well... thank you very much for saving Kira's life... but I get the feeling you didn't do it as a favor to me." Lacus said slowly. _Frost... bad enough that you try and hurt me... if you've damaged Kira just to get to me..._

"I wish I could have, but he's far too useful a bargaining chip." Sai replied, wincing. This was where the shit was going to hit the fan. "If we were not at war, I would return him to you. But we are, so I cannot. Furthermore, I must ask you to surrender now, Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Zala-Attha. My forces have you massively outpowered. If you don't surrender, I will have no choice but to wipe you out."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not going to surrender, not to you, not ever! I will stand for Orb's right to have its people live where they want, regardless of their genetics, until I breathe my last breath." Cagalli returned forcefully. Lacus nodded in agreement.

"I fully agree and support Cagalli and Orb in this stand." Lacus said, just to be sure there was no misunderstanding. A pained look crossed Sai's face.

"Very well, I expected you to say that, though it forces my hand." Sai brought the hand in question into view, heavy pistol starkly black against the white room. He nestled the muzzle against the side of Kira's head. "I ask one more time, Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Zala-Attha. Surrender at once. I have you massively outpowered. If you don't surrender, I will have no choice but to wipe you out. Starting with Kira."

"He's unconscious and helpless you bastard!" Athrun almost lunged physically at the screen, even though there was nothing he could do. "You claim to be ethical? Holding a gun to a defenseless man's head! Holding him hostage to try and force us to surrender? You were low to leak that story about Cagalli... but this... this has no excuse!"

"This is against every law of modern warfare! Executing prisoners of war, for any reason save spying or espionage, is a war crime! And you'll never convince me Kira was spying!" Murrue was up out of her chain, banging a hand on the table to drive her point home. "You yourself said he's been unconscious the entire time you've had him!"

"Technically... Kira isn't a prisoner of war." Cyprus Finch said slowly and clearly. He did not look at the screen, but nor did he precisely look away. "The Archangel, and crew thereof, was never officially discharged from the Alliance Military, even though you mutinied and went AWOL after JOSH-A. Extenuating circumstances or not, as you saw them, we are not outside the law executing Kira Yamato as a deserter. The same can be said for any other member of the Archangel's crew we happen to capture who accepted a commission or enlisted into the Alliance Military Forces. Ensign Kira Yamato has been tried in a court martial and charged with counts of mutiny, desertion in the face of the enemy, consorting with the enemy, aiding/abetting enemy forces and conduct unbecoming of an officer of the Alliance Military Forces. The sentence is death. President Argyle is willing to commute the sentence to permanent exile, conditional on your response."

"So you're going to twist the law to let you do what you want... thats so like a Zunnichi!" Kisaka growled.

"Sai... Sai... Kira is my twin brother..." Cagalli said haltingly. She looked away, tears in her eyes. "But I can't... I can't surrender Orb just to save his life. It's my responsibility as a national leader to protect the interests of my people. I can't... can't change my stance just to save a member of my family. The only member of my family I have left!"

"And even if she did give in to this terrorism, I would bypass her authority by the rights given me as guardian-regent and countermand any order to surrender." Kisaka added, stone faced. "Orb does not negotiate with terrorists... even if they also happen to be the President of the World."

"Very well, what about you, Lacus Clyne. You've been surprisingly quiet." Sai observed, starting to sweat a bit. Despite what his former comrades thought, it was no easier for him to be doing this than it was for them to watch him do it. The very idea of shooting an unconscious Kira in the head was repungent... though he had dreamed about it once or twice, way back when he first joined Blue Cosmos. But that was a long time ago, and he was a much changed man. Right now he wanted little more than to snatch the gun away and let Kira rest, in preparation for shipping him up to the PLANTS, along with the rest of the Clyne Faction.

Lacus was sitting at the far end of the table, about as far from the vid screen as she could get. Her head was bowed and her long hair was hanging down to mostly cover her face. Slowly, her head started to come up. It was barely noticable at first, but the room seemed to get drier, almost static charged. Katie's head jerked around first, followed shortly by Ysak, both of whom started backing away from Lacus as quickly as they could, pressing themselves flat against the wall. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck... take the gun away from his head. Take the gun away from his head now! Now! Now! Take the FUCKING GUN AWAY FROM HIS HEAD!" Katie shrieked, closing her eyes and turning her head away from Lacus.

Ysak was staring wide eyed at Lacus. "Do as she SAYS! I don't care if you never listen to me again... but DO AS SHE SAYS, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Ysak pressed both hands to his head and sank against the wall to a crouching position. "Please... please stop. Please... stop. Don't... don't look at me like... like that. Don't look at me like that, Lacus." Ysak mumbled, pressing his face into the wall.

"Unless I give in and surrender to you, you're going to kill the man I love more than anything?" Lacus said, very quietly, so quietly Sai could barely hear her. His stomach was doing flip flops for some reason he couldn't quite figure out. "Unless I surrender, you're going to shoot Kira in the head while he is helpless and sick in a bed, is that right? And you're going to do it while I watch?"

"Well..." Sai mustered his nerve. "I'm afraid so, yes."

"Do you feel that...?" Miriallia sidled over to Dearka, who was regarding Ysak and Katie with frank puzzlement. "Like your stomach is turning inside out and your guts are knotting up. It's a really terrible feeling actually. I am the only one?"

"That time of the month again?" Dearka quipped, turning his head to look at her, also bringing Lacus into his line of view. "Can't say as I... whoah... whoah, what the hell..." Dearka swallowed hard. He felt like he'd just chugged a six pack and then run a mile and a half and top speed. The deck seemed to tilt under him and he almost feel down, if the wall hadn't caught him. The feeling kept getting worse and worse. Miriallia was crouching on the deck, squeezing her eyes shut and holding her stomach, in obvious pain. Seconds later Dearka was joining her. It felt like all the stomach acid in his digestive system was slowly forcing its way up into his brain. He was angry. So angry it physically hurt. "Gonna... gonna hurl... fuck... what the..." Dearka's eyes fell on Lacus again. He caught a glimpse of one eye. "Fuck us all..." He squeezed his eyes shut.

Murrue, Waltfeld and Kisaka were likewise affected, in various ways leaning over the table or collapsed against the walls. To Sai and the Hellhounds, it looked like the room on the Archangel had just filled with invisible poison gas, from how everyone was reacting. Athrun and Cagalli were the last to go down, clutching their heads and stomach's just like everyone else, to curl up in quivering balls. "Maybe Asmodeus managed to poison their food somehow?" Ramierez suggested, though his own stomach was also starting to flip flop for some reason. He couldn't figure out why... he didn't usually get seasick.

"That would be very lucky... but why is Ms. Clyne not affected. Something is strange." Cyprus noted. He felt something passing by him, like wind or air currents, but there were none in the room. Most perturbing.

"This is the second time today someone tried to use my feelings for Kira to hold me hostage and force me to take the course of action they desired. I can forgive a great many things... but I will not be toyed with like that. My emotions are my own, I will not allow you to use Kira as a hostage against ME!" Lacus jerked her head fully upright and stared Sai fully in the face, her eyes completely washed out of their normal lilac color... now they were more metallic lavender almost. Inside her head, the lilac seed detonated with a soundless rumble that seemed to shake the entire universe. Lacus stood up and slowly made her way towards the viewscreen.

For his part, Sai couldn't look away. He was no stranger to gaze games, but he literally could not look away. He couldn't blink, nothing. He could barely breathe. His body felt like it was frozen solid. Behind him, Ramierez was trying to burrow through the back wall, pressed so flat against it that it hurt, head turned to the side and eyes tightly shut, appearing for all the world like a man trying to block out the sight of a train bearing down on him. He was muttering prayers in rapid fire spanish under his breath. Sai tried to swallow, because his mouth was suddenly bone dry, but it stuck in his throat and he choked for a few moments. He still couldn't look away. Something prevented him from doing anything but meet Lacus's gaze. "Point that gun somewhere else." Lacus commanded. Sai found himself obeying, pointing the gun at the floor.

"Sir... what are you doing?" Cyprus asked, brow furrowed in surprise.

"I... I don't... don't know." Sai managed to squeak out. "Can't... can't you feel it?"

"I feel something like a strong air current where there isn't one, but that is all." Cyprus took out his own gun and pointed it at Kira's face. He then turned to meet Lacus's gaze directly himself. His hand trembled for a moment... and then the gun slowly started to lower. "Stop that. I don't know what you're doing, or how you are doing it... but if you don't release me and the President, I will shoot." Cyprus ordered calmly.

"Right now I am very, very angry." Lacus replied. "People have been dying for me, dying for my principles in supporting basic human rights, all day. That in itself is enough to get me worked up. Kira's ignorant willfullness and manipulation in the hangar did nothing to improve my mood. Right then and there, I was as angry as I've ever been in my life. Now Kira is being used as a hostage to try and force Cagalli and I to compromise on our ideals. That infuriates me, that you could possibly think we would compromise the trust and responsibility millions of people have invested in us, to save a man we both love more than life itself. However, so far you've done what you can to treat his wounds and you have done nothing more than threaten him. I don't make threats. Lacus Clyne would never hurt any living, feeling being. If you kill Kira right here and now, the Lacus Clyne everyone knows will go away. Quite who I will be then, I don't know, but that person would really, really like to see if she can kill you by remote brain hemorrage. Please, for your sake, don't shoot Kira."

"S-s-sir... I... I don't... know what's... what's going on... but... but... goddamn sir... I recommend... following her advice!" Ramierez gasped out.

"She's compromised your mind, Corporal." Cyprus noted, the gun rising back up under an effort of will.

"Yes... she has... sir. Across... twelve miles... of ocean... and almost one hundred feet of... of ship... through a... TV... screen... I don't... think... she's bluffing!"

"Neither am I." Cyprus watched the grey seed explode in his own mind and suddenly he could control his body easily again. "Shooting a helpless man in the head, especially one in a hospital, is generally against my principles. However, in the interest of the greater good, I will compromise those principles for the betterment of all. That is a thought I would ask you to consider strongly, Ms. Clyne. You have millions of people relying on you, and you are right, it would be obscene to compromise your ideals just to save your lover, despite the obviously powerful hold over your pscyhe he has. However, let's look at the bigger picture. Much as I hold this gun to Kira's head, so too is the task force a gun to the head of Orb. Like Kira, Orb is almost totally helpless to save itself, and no outside agency is in position to save it, most especially not the Archangel. If killing Kira will not induce you to compromise your ideals, what about killing Orb? That is the next step. It would be tragic and heinous... but in the interest of the greater good and the betterment of all, it is a step that will be taken. Face up to it, Ms. Clyne. You have lost. Now it's up to you to decide just how high the death toll for your ideals is."

"You would really destroy Orb, just to force me to surrender?" Lacus asked, voice neutral.

"In order to create happiness for the rest of the world, yes, in an instant. I would organize the destruction of every building and person in the entire nation, in order to create a lasting peace for my children, should I have any, and their successive children and so forth and so on. I would gladly march to the gallows after a war crimes trial, gladly be reviled by history, if I could assure that peace. I am willing to pay any price, save that of the entire world itself. Are you? Are you willing to sacrifice all these soldiers, all your friends and family, just to say that you made a stand for what you believe in? Is taking the moral high ground really worth so much death? Do you honestly think people, both now and in the future, will thank you for remaining so true to a philosphy that you would sacrifice millions of people to live up to it? Standing up for your ideals against pressure is one thing... sacrificing others, even if they are willing, to do the same, when a simple compromise will save all those lives... that is wrong. You claim to love life, Lacus Clyne... by standing up for your ideals past the breaking point of common sense, you certainly to me appear to love death. Because that is what is resulting, again and again."

"But what about all the Coordinators up in the PLANTS? I can't just surrender, knowing that in doing so I'm consigning millions of them to death by starvation because your president's master plan didn't account for the lack of food supplies in space!"

"You people always assume that what is so currently will always be so. Study historical politics. When has ever a leader ever held completely true to a wartime declaration in peacetime? Almost never. Sai has no more desire to see millions of Coordinators starving than you do. However, until the war is won and peace is attained, he cannot compromise. The totality of the Isolation Plan is the only security people have, the only assurance that peace WILL be won, at any cost. In any case, that is in the relatively distant future... whether or not you surrender here and now, the Isolation WILL be enforced. The only thing your surrender can do now is save millions of lives. Maybe people will lose respect for you... maybe they won't idolize you and trust you like you were some kind of goddess... but isn't that better than waving your flag from the top of a mountain of corpses?" Cyprus took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Ramierez and Sai were still riveted in place, barely able to do more than breath. Cyprus touched the pistol muzzle to Kira's forehead, right between the eyes. "So what is your decision, Lacus Clyne? Do I compromise my ideals, and let us see who can build the bigger mountain to wave our flags from? Or do you compromise yours, and we part ways with no further blood?"

There was a sensation like space imploding and suddenly Sai and Ramierez could move again. Likewise everyone else in the Archangel's conference room found their guts untwisting, any pain almost instantly dissolving away. Tears streamed down Lacus's cheeks as she sat, collapsed in one of the chairs right next to the viewscreen. Her eyes had returned to their normal sparkly lilac blue color. "Fine. You've made your point. It pains me to do it... but I, Lacus Clyne, do formally surrender and order my supporters to do the same. The Clyne Faction has lost this battle, and I will not waste any more lives fighting a battle that cannot be won with our current forces. I surrender myself and my forces to the custody of the Isolationist Government, but only under the condition that no harm or prejudice shall be levied against ANY member of my supporters for any supposed crime committed, past or present. And though I cannot make her decision for her, I strongly urge my good friend Cagalli Zala-Attha, to join me in my surrender, in order to preserve at least some of the people of her great nation."

"You'd really murder everyone in Orb just to make a point?" Cagalli levered herself up to standing by keeping her hands pressed firmly against the tabletop. "And you claim to be better than Cervantes and Blue Cosmos?"

"Orb, or everyone?" Sai replied. "Which choice do you think I would make."

"I hate you. I loathe you more than I can possibly express. You are the lowest thing on Earth!" Cagalli shouted, raising her head for a moment, tears in her own eyes. She dropped her head again. "I, Cagalli Zala-Attha, do formally surrender myself and the sovereign nation of Orb, with all its military and civilian populations, to the Isolationist Government." Cagalli paused, letting her tears drip like rain onto the table. "I surrender under the same conditions as Lacus Clyne. I will also formally resign from my position after the surrender is completed. I feel like I have betrayed the ideals and people of my nation, though I have done it in their best interest. I am no longer fit to be Orb's leader."

"I accept both your surrenders under your conditions." Sai's voice had a bit of a quaver in it as well. He was not proud of what he'd done, but like Cyprus had said... it had to be done, and that was that. "I will be over shortly with the proper documents to make things official, and preparations for the extradition of all Coordinators and their families will begin immediately afterwards." Sai swallowed hard. "For what its worth, I'm sorry."

"Fuck you." Both Cagalli and Lacus replied, as Athrun punched the vidcomm controls so hard they broke, ending the conversation.

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Not quite what my reviewers thought was going to happen, was it? The story is moving into its final chapters now. The war and big action bits are done now... now its time for some detailed romance and non-violent plot development. I know having the good guys actually LOSE is somewhat unprecedented... but theres still a few twists left, so please, by all means, keep reading and anticipating and enjoying. Thank you.


	93. Unbowed Heads

"Why so glum? You look like you've just seen the end of the world." Alkire asked Murrue as she walked past him to sit in the row of seats just in front of him. He ignored the glare that she shot him in reply. "Oh come on, don't be like that... if I can smile with four bullet holes in my chest and one of my best friend's dead, so can you!"

"We lost the war." Murrue said witheringly. "My ship has been confiscated and I've been stripped of command. I've been discharged from the military and exiled from my home planet. The country I fought so desperately to preserve is even now being divided into two areas by race, and the Coordinators are being shipped up to the PLANTS like they were condemned criminals. Everything I've fought for since the beginning of even the first war has been for nothing. So I'm sorry, but I don't see myself smiling much, thank you."

"Goddamn, you people are good at focusing on the negative things. We lost our ship, our mobile suits, our weapons, our vehicles, our homes... we lost everything... even our pride and principles! But we didn't lose one thing... the most important of all! We DIDN'T lose our lives! And because we're all still alive, we can go on. We can start anew! The war is lost... but that doesn't mean everything is over! For fuck's sake, I didn't bleed all over creation just so we could give in to despair!" Alkire coughed thickly, his chest thickly padded with bandages and sterile wraps. "I ain't giving up, even if all you bastards quit on me!"

"Admirable sentiment, but really, what can we do?" Dearka shot back, sitting across the aisle of the surface to orbit shuttle. "We haven't got jack for resources, we're all hurt and the enemy has massively overwhelming manpower and now he's got all our technology too! I'm no defeatist, but I know when I got my ass kicked!"

"So it got kicked... big fuckin deal!" Alkire coughed violently again. "Mark of a true fighter is coming back for more AFTER getting yer ass kicked!"

"I really never thought I'd find myself agreeing with you on a personal level..." Lacus spoke up from the back of the shuttle, where Kira's bed was situated along with a large portion of their luggage. It had been only a little more than a day since the Clyne Faction and Orb had surrendered to the Isolationist task force. Sai certainly ran a organized government, if nothing else. They were disarmed, interviewed, patched up, told to pack and escorted to a staging area within hours of signing the articles of surrender. A brief stay at the staging area allowed them to gather personal effects from Alkire's bunker house under heavy guard, and from there they went directly to the spaceport, where they boarded the shuttle and were re-united with Kira, who was still unconscious, if otherwise reasonably healthy. "... but you're correct. This fight is not over yet. I may have surrendered, because there was no other choice besides dying uselessly, but as long as I live, I will not accept the Isolation as a solution to lasting Coordinator-Natural relations. I'm not sure how, yet, but I will find a way to oppose Sai and his Plan."

"And I have a date to curb stomp his degenerate ass!" Cagalli shouted from the other side of the bed. "This is twice he's messed with members of my family and I still haven't got him for the first time! There's no way I'm letting this fight be over yet."

"I'm no more pleased by how that battle turned out than anyone else. But we can look at it like we got beaten and lost... or we can look at it like we chose to move the fight to a different level, at least for a while." Athrun put in. "ZAFT has yet to officially surrender, which means someone in the PLANTS has a plan. And the PLANTS won't run out of supplies for a few months yet... we have time to recover, to think, to plan, to decide. Right now, we just have to take our lumps and get on with life, like Alkire has said. Me, I think I could use a few weeks break from everything... come back with a new perspective."

"Would you all shut the fuck up? I'm trying to get into a good blue funk over here, and I can't do it with all you people being so goddamn uplifting!" Ysak yelled from the front row opposite Murrue.

"Aww, Ysak-y, don't hide it! You just wanna see your mommy again soon." Katie admonished him with a cheerful face. Inside she was still in major turmoil over Victor's death, but if Lacus and Cagalli could put on good faces, damn it, so could she. "Don' wowwy, eveting' be jus' fine, Ysak-y!"

"Don't take that tone of voice with me! Especially that loud! We're in a public shuttle for god's sake!"

"Kids, kids... quiet down, please! I'm trying to sleep over here! God knows its the first time I been able to get some decent rest!" Waltfeld joined the conversation at the top of his lungs. "I'm so sleepy, since those bastards confiscated my coffee making kit... I can't live normally without that caffeine!"

"You never lived normally WITH that caffeine!" Miriallia pointed out. And from there it turned into a free for all of released tension and friendly insults

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Tell me again who just lost a major battle?" Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory shut the cockpit door, after peeking back into the raucous madhouse the passenger spaces had become. "They certainly don't act defeated."

"Does Sai cry about setbacks?" Cyprus asked in reply, finishing the last of the pre-flight checklist. They could have had anyone take the Clyne Faction prisoners up to the PLANTS... but Sai wanted to be ENTIRELY sure no funny business went on, so he'd assigned Cyprus, Glory and Ramierez to the job. Overkill perhaps, but no one knew better than Sai how good his friends were at beating long odds. "These are all people cut from the same mould as him. Which is why we're escorting them, not a group of FAGGs."

"Thats one of the longest sentences I've ever heard you say on the job, sir." Glory pointed out with a grin at Ramierez.

"Should have heard him when he talked down Lacus Clyne. Madre de Dios! I thought we were all going to die, but the Lieutenant... he didn't even blink!" Ramierez replied with an answering grin. "And the speech... my god, he thrashed her! Maybe we should report him for assaulting a minor!"

Cyprus ostentatiously checked the play of his pistol in its holster, cutting down dramatically on the ribbing from his subordinates. Not that he was particularly embarassed about breaking his usual quiet streak... but he couldn't let them think they could just poke fun at him either.

"I still don't know if I can believe you about that. You could look for a hundred years and not find a girl as kind and gentle as Lacus Clyne... how could you possibly feel threatened by her?" Glory asked after a few moments.

"Go point a gun at Kira's head and find out, sarge-major. But aiieee... let me get a few kilometers away first." Ramierez replied, suppressing a shiver as he recalled the memory. "I'm not scared of much... but I will never, EVER anger Lacus Clyne, if I can avoid it. She was IN my head. If she'd asked me to, I would've blown my own balls off! And not in the good way!"

"I talked with Ashino." Cyprus threw out suddenly, while they waited for traffic control to give them the green light for launch.

"And?" Glory and Ramierez chorused after several seconds pause. "Come on, sir, don't make us drag it out of you phrase by phrase." Glory pleaded.

"Yeah! What did Markov have to say?" Ramierez wheedled.

"Not much." Cyprus let them hang for a moment. "From what he did know, apparently Lacus Clyne is something called a "Newtype". An Active Newtype. Most everyone is not a Newtype... Newtypes call regular people "Stumps", because we have no sensitivity to mental abilities. A very small fraction of people are Latent Newtypes. Kira and Ysak apparently are such. Latent's are very open to mental abilities, though they have none of their own. And then the rarest of all are Actives, like Lacus and the girl Katie Belaruse."

"You mean there's two of them?" Ramierez shivered again. "This is all really hard to believe, sir! If I hadn't been possessed by one, I never would have believed it!"

"I don't believe it. Sorry sir, but telepathy and psychics... thats fantasy. I don't know what sorta trick she pulled on you two... can't even think of ANY trick that would work on you, sir... but..."

"I'm not lying, Thomas." Cyprus said flatly. "I didn't want to believe it either. But when I met her gaze, she was in my head. Without the training I put myself through, I would have been just as helpless as Ramierez was."

"Speaking of, you really have to share some details on your training sometime, sir. Sorry, tangent." Ramierez withered under the stare from his boss.

"Okay... say I do accept the existence of psychics or Newtypes or whatever they call themselves. Why haven't I heard of them before? What can they do?" Glory pressed.

"I don't have an answer for either of those. For once, I know just as little as you two."

"Hey, was that a put down?"

"That's not very nice, sir!"

"This is Victoria traffic control. Shuttle twelve, you are clear for launch, all systems green. See you in a few days."

"Shuttle twelve, clear for launch, all systems green." Cyprus confirmed. He took the control yoke in both hands and started flipping ignition switches.

"All engines reading powered up and... nominal. Runway is confirmed clear. Radar shows clear along projected flight path." Glory reported.

"All exterior hatches sealed and airtight. All interior hatches sealed and airtight. Passenger seatbelts... engaged. Ventilation systems engaged. We are now on ships air and the recyclers." Ramierez added.

"Taking off." Cyprus said, setting the shuttle in motion, taxiing into position on the end of the runway. 

"Taking off aye." His subordinates chorused. Then they were all crushed back into their seats by the acceleratrion as the shuttles main thrusters fired and sent them roaring down the elevated runway and then up and out into space, just one of hundreds of shuttles from around the world engaged in near round the clock runs, ferrying Coordinators and their families off of Earth.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two steps out from the spaceport on Aprilius One, as soon as they got a good view of the interior of the PLANT, Katie whirled and smacked Ysak across the back of his head with her open palm. "Ahg! What the hell? I didn't say anything! I didn't even THINK anything!" Ysak protested. Even as he did so, he looked around. Thing's looked pretty normal. Well, there were a lot more people around, but no rioting crowds, no bums begging on the streets, no signs of unrest or privation. The air was cleaner than he remembered, or maybe it was just the difference between Earth air with its centuries of pollution and accumulated greenhouse gases and PLANT air, filtered and eighty percent recycled every twelve hours. Looking down from roughly twelve kilometers up on the number two continent on the PLANT, his current "down", with continent number one "above" him on the other side of the space port, Ysak reflected that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be home, really home.

"You neglected to mention that you LIVED IN PARADISE!" Katie admonished him fiercely.

"What do you mean?" Ysak asked, confused. It was a PLANT, and not even one of the more decorative ones. Aprilius One was the heart of the political and administrative bereaus running the PLANTS. It had been designed for form and functionality above all else, and was about as nondescript a PLANT enivornment as they came. Each continent was a circle ten kilometers in diameter, the land usually broken up into several island clusters by large lakes and rivers where the fresh water for the PLANT was stored when not in active use. There were a few parks, small forests and plenty of open space... but it had nothing on Earth, where you could stand at the top of a tall mountain and see nothing but ground in all directions for farther than you could see. Or where you could be flying at an altitude of ten thousand feet and still see nothing but water in all directions, knowing that the actual ground was a good thirty thousand or more feet below you. Hell, he'd flown over individually owned private property on Earth that encompassed more land than a PLANT contained! He didn't see what was so cool, cool enough to earn a slap on the head for not mentioning.

"Gah... geh... grr! Isn't it obvious?" Katie retored, sweeping her arms to encompass the whole PLANT. "The air is so pure and fresh, not even a hint of smog! The temperature is perfect mid-tropical spring, feels like about eighty fahrenheit, even at this height! Just enough breeze so that you don't get overheated walking around! White sand beaches, crystal clear water, sailboats, open space and trees and parks... we're in space, damn it! It's right out there!" Katie pointed dramatically at the glass wall a few hundred meters away, through which the infinite darkness of space was impossible to miss. "I've never been to a place so beautiful, even in my dreams! Are the PLANTS all like this?"

"Most of them are a lot nicer than this one." Dearka replied. "Aprilius has always been... dreary, almost. Everyday. Plain, I guess. It's a politician's city, designed for cost effectiveness, not beautification."

"This is a plain city..." Katie trailed off. She rounded on Ysak again. "Oooh! I should throw you over the edge! How could you keep something like this from me?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about! You never asked me anything specific about the PLANTS, I'd figured you'd seen pictures or videos." Ysak looked around at all the curious stares from passersby and his cheecks flushed slightly. "You're making a scene!"

"Well, I kind of understand where she's coming from." Cagalli commented to Athrun as they watched the antics of Katie and Ysak from a discreet enough distance that they could deny knowing them. "An environment like this would be a paradise spot on Earth. I have seen pictures and video, but it really doesn't capture just how spectacular and unique a PLANT is, from the inside."

"We've been to plenty of spots on Earth that are just as beautiful as this." Athrun replied, slightly bemused as well. This was a really ho-hum city, he was a little off guard at the reaction too.

"Yes, but they're all overbuilt tourist traps, where most people only go once or twice in their lifetimes, because of how expensive it is to live there permanently. This is your everyday life, Athrun, its obvious from how normal you see it. The PLANTS are a twenty four seven cruise vacation, at least in looks." Cagalli looked around herself. The disembarking concourse and overlook was busy, but not overflowing. She didn't see any signs of unrest or hardship yet. Everyone looked happy, or at least not unhappy. She'd never seen such a bewildering array of hair and eye colors before, especially with certain skin pigmentations. She was feeling kind of dumpy with just blond hair and golden brown eyes and pale skin. On an intellectual level she knew that people didn't generally have purple-blue hair and piercing emerald green eyes, like Athrun did, but compared to some of the combinations she could see, Athrun looked positively everyday!

"It can be a little overwhelming at first, I guess, if you're not used to it." Athrun noticed her wide eyed looking around. "Though now I'm debating if I should even take you to some of the party spots Dearka used to drag us to... people have certain limits to how they can look on the streets after all... limits that don't always apply in the clubs and dance halls. I would hate to offend your delicate sensibilities."

"Just by saying that, you know very well we no longer have any option but to go." Cagalli retorted. Before they could continue their banter, Alkire and Raine made their way over to them. Athrun wasn't sure who was leaning on who for support, or if they were leaning on each other. He knew they were both probably better off in wheelchairs, not lugging armfuls of luggage around in even the near micro-gravity of the disembarking concourse, but from the looks on their faces he determined that keeping his silence was a good idea.

"Well, looks like here is where we're going to part ways, at least for a while like we agreed." Alkire said with a crooked smile. Crooked because he was trying not to scream like a baby from the pain in his chest... his painkillers had worn off shortly after the shuttle docked and the pills were packed deep in his luggage, which he didn't want to spread all over creation digging through... not least because despite severe security precautions down on Earth, he had managed to smuggle away a few goodies that would be hard to explain to authority types on the PLANTS.

"You two sure you're going to be okay by yourselves?" Athrun asked, looking them up and down, at how they were swaying slightly on their feet and covered in yards of bandages and sterile wraps. "The PLANTS can be a overwhelming place to experience for the first time, especially without a guide." Shortly after they'd reached orbit and started heading for the PLANTS, everyone had gotten together to discuss just what they were going to do. They couldn't make any mention of any plans to return to Earth, because of the three Hellhounds no doubt eavesdropping on them from the cockpit, so they focused their talks on what they would do for their "enforced vacation" instead. So many different ideas were tossed out that eventually everyone just decided to split up for the first two weeks, after which they would re-unite and go from there. The question had been raised of where people would stay, but with roughly half the party having homes... often large ones by PLANT standards... it was deemed it probably wouldn't be much of an issue after all. Just about the only people who couldn't bum a place to stay from a friend or lover were Alkire and Raine, who assured everyone they would be more than fine by themselves, despite their injuries.

"I think we'll manage somehow, thank you though." Raine answered. "I never thought I'd get to vacation in the PLANTS, and I'd like to get the full tour in, just in case I never get to come back. No offense, but I don't think that would be possible if we had to deal with a pair of starry eyed teenagers."

"Yowza! Green hair, red eyes, black skin! Nice color combination. Our children HAVE to be Coordinators!" Alkire was likewise looking around with a slightly agape jaw like Cagalli had been. "I wonder if its a sixteen color menu, or if you get a full 256 color deluxe palette?" He noticed the sour look on Athrun's face. "Oh... no offense... didn't mean to make it sound like I was designing a doll or anything."

"I need to get him out of the public eye before he gets lynched." Raine said. She thrust a backpack at Athrun. He took it, with an eyebrow raised questioningly. "This should help cushion the resource impact of starting life up here again."

Athrun unzipped the bag slightly and peered inside. His eyebrows both tried to climb into his hairline. "Is this completely filled with money?" Athrun hefted the bag experimentally. In the full gravity of the city levels, it would probably weigh close to ten or fifteen pounds if not more. Raine nodded nonchalantly. Athrun reached in, looking around cautiously, as he didn't want to draw too much attention to the fact he was holding a fifteen pound bag of solid paper money... street crime was almost unknown on the PLANTS... but that was a lot of money. He brought one neatly wrapped stack of money into the light so he could see it better, and his knees nearly gave out. "Are these ALL hundreds?" He asked, his voice strangulated.

"Well, we won't be seeing you for two weeks. I couldn't live with myself if you guys ran out and were forced to actually WORK for a living during your vacation." Alkire said with a smile and a wink. "Of course, if you don't WANT it, I'll be glad to take it back. There are casino's in the PLANTS right? I could always use more capital."

"No, that's all right. I'm not too proud to turn away free money." Cagalli snatched the bag out of Athrun's hands. "Just how rich ARE YOU, Alkire?"

"Just how much do you weigh, Cagalli?" Alkire asked back. He laughed when she scowled. "First rule... never ask a woman how much she weighs. Second rule... never ask a mysterious benefactor just how rich he is. It's just passe. Now you two have the time of your goddamn lives, you understand? I'll see you in two weeks, right here, got it? Now let me go distrubute the other care packages. Lacus already has hers, in case you were wondering." Alkire said with a wide grin. It was only then that Athrun noticed Alkire had three identical bags still clutched under one arm. His mind could not help but run a quick calculation. One Earth dollar was worth roughly .84 PLANT dollars, though most stores and businesses still accepted either type of paper. Each billstack had two hundred fifty bills in it and weighed about a quarter pound... damn that was more than one and a quarter million dollars each! No, they wouldn't be running out of money... Athrun couldn't even begin to imagine spending a tenth of that amount in just fourteen days. But then again... there was Cagalli to consider...

"Well... I... thanks, Alkire. I'll try and return what's left... after..." Athrun started to say, slightly tongue tied by the massive generosity. Alkire headed him off by throwing up a hand.

"Nah, nah, nah... thats not how this works. That's paper cash there... it doesn't belong to me. Belongs to whoever's holding it. That's why cash is beautiful. If that was my credit card, sure... but paper money... far as I'm concerned its pre-spent, capiche?" Alkire assured him. "Goddamn, don't be selfless for once in your life. Lacus was the same way!" Lacus had left directly to a connecting shuttle flight headed to Februarius City, where Kira would be sent to the finest hospital the PLANTS had for further treatment. Athrun had been wondering who was going to pay for that, since medical care in the PLANTS was only government covered if you were a registered citizen, which Kira was not. But that question was now comprehensively answered. If Alkire could afford to just hand out one and a quarter million in pure cash, paying for medical care was not going to be a problem. It made Athrun wonder, just where had Alkire gotten all this money from... he doubted it was from entirely legal business. But that was a question for another time.

Without further ado, and only a simple good by wave, Alkire and Raine left Athrun and Cagalli standing there, holding the bag in a manner of speaking, both momentarily rooted to the ground with shock. They only roused themselves when they heard the muffled half shouts of surprise from the others as Alkire finished delivering his "care packages", which suddenly presented each couple, or trio in the case of Murrue, Waltfeld and Kisaka, with more hard cash immediately on hand than they'd ever seen in their entire lives. Cagalli smiled, patting the bag fondly. She'd grown up a spoiled rich girl, well not totally spoiled but priviliged, certainly. If there was one thing she knew how to do in civilian life, it was spending money to have a good time. It had been ages since she'd last had the opportunity, and now she had Athrun to spend on too. A wicked smile crept across her face. She wondered if Alkire could be persuaded to part with more of his apparently limitless supply of money.

"All right, we need to get going, before that smile gets too entrenched in your brain." Athrun kept a wary eye on Cagalli as he gathered up their luggage, which was fortunately just a large duffel bag each... the Isolationists hadn't given either of them time to comprehensively pack. "Give me the backpack for safekeeping."

"It's perfectly safe in my hands." Cagalli said sweetly. "So which way to the December city shuttle terminal?"

"Cagalli... thats a lot of money... we really don't want to lose that..." Athrun tried to edge closer to her so he could make a snatch for the bag... he knew he could take it from her if he could only get a good grip. He didn't know why, but the look on Cagalli's face when she realized she had a moderate fortune in easily spendable bills in her hands made him sure that it was in his best interest to be the responsible parent who handled money situations.

"Only thing that's going to get lost is your hand, if you make a grab for the bag." Cagalli countered, edging away from him even as he moved closer. "Alkire said he wanted us to have the time of our lives, and of the two of us I know best how to spend money to make that happen, alright, honey-dear?"

"Don't call me honey-dear, unless you want me to start bringing out the pet names too." Athrun replied. He waited a few beats. "Dawn-chan."

"You're not Japanese, don't butcher the honorifics! The bag is mine, that's final! Now where's the shuttle terminal, before we miss our connection flight?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't believe you wouldn't even let me off for an hour while we refueled, sir." Ramierez only half mock whined. Glory could almost swear the latino was brushing tears out of one eye. "I've never been to the PLANTS before, and with the Isolation I probably never will get another chance!"

"You're wearing an Isolation uniform, Ramierez. I don't think you'd be very popular." Glory pointed out.

"I planned ahead! I'm wearing civilian clothes underneath! I had it all planned out! I even knew which beach I was going to! You've broken my heart, sir! Don't you have ANY idea how beautiful those Coordinator college coeds ARE?" Ramierez pounded his head into his console desk and ran both hands through his short cropped black hair in obvious frustration.

"This is work. Indulge your voyeuristic proclivities on your own time, corporal." Cyprus replied dryly, as the Aprilius colony cluster began receeding behind them.

"How beautiful we talking here, just hypothetically speaking?" Glory asked after a few moments. Cyprus rolled his eyes, though neither of his subordinates could see it.

"Think Lacus Clyne, but twenty, tanned, single, wanton and clad in skimpy bikinis!" Ramierez sobbed. "As single men, we have missed out on a literal El Dorado!"

"Damn, I had no idea! That SUCKS!" Glory complained. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, corporal? You got somethin against your sarge-major, that you're now hiding pertinent info from him?"

"When the girls are that HOT, TWO is a CROWD, sarge-major, I'm sorry! I couldn't take the risk of having competition!"

"If you had taken the risk, at least there would have BEEN A COMPETITION, ya numbskull! Instead, you kept yer trap shut and we got to oogle a bunch of automated dock refuelling robots! You're on my shit list now, corporal! You can expect latrine duty when we get dirtside!"

"I even had a camera! Oh dear God, why must you torment me so terribly? Even Ashino has a girlfriend when I do not! What's next... is the Lieutenant going to get a girl before me too? I don't know if I could live with that!"

"If you really want to go back so badly, feel free to get out here. But I can't let you take any government property with you. That includes the E.V.A. suits." Cyprus told them both darkly. "And what, precisely, makes you think I would have trouble finding female companionship, corporal?"

"Well... uh, I... I don't quite know how to say this... sir. Permission to speak... freely?"

"Where would you run, anyways, corporal?"

"That's as much of a yes as you'll get." Glory said helpfully. It wasn't often he had time to poke fun at his entirely too serious superior and friend. But apparently even Cyprus Finch could find a little time to relax now that the war was all but officially over.

"Well sir, no offense intended... but in most public situations you do tend to end up coming across as... dour."

"Unpersonable." Glory added.

"Even actively unfriendly." Ramierez continued. "Unless someone knows you really well, you appear uncommunicative, introverted, uninterested and antisocial. I can't claim to be around you twenty four seven, sir, but I can prolly manage twenty hours a day six days a week and eighteen on sunday, so you don't have much time away from me."

"Plus he looks weird."

"Well, I wasn't going to go that far, but if you've already brought it up, sarge-major..." Ramierez and Glory kept careful watch on their superior officer, sitting only a few feet in front of them. It was impossible to tell what the expression on his face was while he was facing the controls, but both men could put out a reasonable guess. The Lieutenant didn't have too many different facial expressions. Grim patience, dissapointed frown, wintry half smile, composed neutrality... and that was about it. "... I might as well hit on your taste in clothing sir. Though it may match your hair and eyes, grey is NOT a fashion statement and neither, in most cases, are uniforms."

"It wouldn't kill you to get a tan either, sir I know you can tan, I've seen you do it on missions. Why the nordic pale look? With your hair and eyes, it makes you look washed out. Colorless. Hell, sir, I mean this entirely platonically, but if you got a tan, grew your hair out a bit and let Ramierez and I dress you a bit, you could probably model on the front page of magazines like "Men-Monthly" or "Fitness", you know?" Glory knew he wouldn't get many chances like this one, so he was opting to push the line as much as possible.

"You just don't seem to make the effort to make yourself attractive to women sir. You're a pupae in a land of butterflies. Thats what I meant by being distressed if you found a girlfriend before me. I'm actively looking, and I'm a sexy latino devil, who knows fashion and culture."

"You two have any other last words or comments?"

"That's a very threatening way to phrase that question, sir."

"Her name is Wrenn. Wrenn Nostaliviche." Cyprus answered. There was a long silence.

"What, you mean like the Slavic international star goth-industrial singer? The Goddess of Dark Ice? Lead singer of the legendary female band Avaunte Noctem? The svelte girl with raven wing dark hair to her knees and eyes of silver-blue? The one with the voice that curls your toes and other parts even if can barely hear it over the bass? The one who always wears those oh-so-nearly-transparent-gowns? THAT Wrenn Nostaliviche?" Ramierez sputtered.

"..."

"FUCK YOU, SIR!"

"I didn't know you listened to goth-industrial, sir." Glory was actually learning something new. And making a few connections he hadn't made before. "So that's what you mean when you say you're going to the "Eastern European Range" for "Urban Assault Training"! I knew there was something suspcious about that when I never got any invites!"

"I don't believe it! I refuse to believe this travesty!" Ramierez moaned and griped. There was a rustle of cloth from the pilot seat, and the brief slap of skin on leather. And then a folded piece of photo paper twirled through the microgravity towards the two enlisted Hellhounds.

"I want that back in mint condition." Cyprus said coldly. Ramierez snatched the paper out of the air, though he was still careful not to crinkle it. He didn't want to believe it, but he also really didn't want to make his boss upset with him. Glory was already hovering over his shoulder as Ramierez slowly turned the paper over so it would be rightside up when he unfolded it and stared at the handwritten note on the back.

"To my most precious fan Cy, the brightest star in my dark nights. Hope to see you soon, my lovely tree-bird-kun, Wrenn Nostaliviche." Glory read softly. "Even I don't call you Cy off duty, sir." _Tree-bird-kun is it?_

"Nobody but her has permission."_ Ask about the tree-bird-kun. I dare you._

Ramierez unfolded the picture and stared. "Fuck you, sir." He repeated, shaking his head slowly from side to side. Even as he did so, he surrepitiously fingered the mini-digital camera in his pants pocket, edging it slowly out to clear the optics. Finally, he had actual physical proof that the Lieutenant was not a supernatural being or ghost. A picture of this picture, which was definitely of Wrenn Nostaliviche, clad in a reddish tinged translucent shoulderless wrap-dress that barely managed to contain her near perfect chest and was stretched tight over her taut stomach... Ramierez had to count to four to stop devouring the picture with his eyes... with her arms around a man who was undeniably Cyprus Finch in black slacks and a red silk amani shirt with half the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, with an actual honest to God sunny smile on his face... this proof was worth thousands of hours of swapping out of shitty duty with other Hellhounds in exchange for just a glimpse of this evidence. Ramierez snapped a couple of quick shots, hoping at least one would turn out in a distinguishable manner, coughing to hide the minute whirr of the camera electronics.

"Wrenn Nostaliviche is infamous for not signing autographs. Do you have any idea how many thousands of dollars the back of this photo is worth, sir?" Glory asked slowly, holding the paper almost reverently. "Even a photo copy could fetch two grand, easy." _Wonder when "tree-bird-kun" had this picture taken. And where. Doesn't look like Eastern Europe._

"Do you have any idea how long it would take me to eject you both in three seperate pieces... skin, meat and bones... from the airlock if you try and take that anywhere near a copier?" Cyprus replied. _You won't be able to figure anything out from the background, Thomas._

"I think we can leave both guesses safely in the realm of imagination, sir." Ramierez replied with a gulp. He nudged Glory with one elbow and flicked his eyes at the barely visible camera. Glory flipped the photo around so the signature was facing the camera. Ramierez coughed again to disguise the camera noise. "Dang shuttle air, always gets to my lungs."

"Here you go, sir. I am in awe." Glory handed the photo back to his superior, who rapidly put it back into the secret slit it occupied in his wallet. Cyprus had to fight for a moment to keep his face straight as he listened to Glory and Ramierez whisper about how unfair life was. "I don't suppose we could uh... you know... get an intro to her, or anything? I'm not a rabid fan, but... damn, shes got some good songs sir." _When did this start? How deep is the relationship? Why do I care so much? Damn it, sir, I hate your mind games!_

"And the other girl's in Avaunte Noctem aren't exactly hard on the eyes either! I'd give my left... left kidney... yeah... to get to chat with the band." Ramierez added, suddenly hopeful. It did help to know people with connections.

"Wrenn and I are not a dating service. In fact, we're not even a public couple. That is understood by everyone in this cockpit, isn't it?" _Happy Thomas? Are you going agonize over every detail of my life in a new light now, pal? I know you're OC like that._

"Perfectly sir!" Glory replied at once. "My lips are sealed."_ If he knows I can't leave this alone... why did he admit to anything? Why not just take the ribbing? Is he trying to ease us into something?_

"Black as a mission order, sir!" Ramierez seconded.

"Thank you." Cyprus let them relax a bit. "I'll give you two options, Ramierez." _It's just a mutual destressor, Thomas. You don't need to go tabloid over this._

"Sir?"

"Option one. We can all continue to pretend like I don't know you took pictures of this very private and dear token of love between me and Wrenn. If we do that, however, once we return to Earth, I will personally ensure that your life is so full of hellish duties no member of the Hellhounds would dream of swapping duties with you, and I will at the same time ensure you are so overworked that you have no time to do anything besides eat, sleep and work, which will put a dramatic dent in your own efforts to find any love your own hands can't give you. Or, option two, you can place that camera and any data storage devices I might even begin to suspect held photos of my keepsake on my chair before I return from the head and we can all live life normally." Cyprus stood up and headed aft without a further word, or even a glance. _Though Wrenn would be highly complimented if I tell her how many die hard fans there are in the Hellhounds._

"Fold. You can't win." Glory recommended as soon as the cockpit door shut._ Fucking hell... just when I think I have tabs on him..._

"But sarge-major... this is... this is..."

"I know what it is. And we both know how far he'll go to protect it. Better to surrender this battle and wait for a time when the advantages aren't all on his side, like after we land on Earth. The important thing is, we two know he's got a social life. We can work with that. Get other proof. Come in and solve the problem from another angle. But you can't do that if he's riding your ass into the ground, which he will do without hesitating until you become a Ramierez-zombie." _I won't be able to contentrate for the rest of the fucking day. Damn you sir, you didn't even say anything and you STILL got the last word!_

"You have a way with words, sarge-major." Ramierez slowly and painfully took the camera and data sticks he'd palmed and put them on the pilot's chair. It was as he was sitting back down that a sudden thought struck him. "Say... you don't think those Clyne Faction bastards were thinking along those lines, do you?"

"Hmm?"

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"So we're agreed then?"

"We don't have any other choice."

"But the collateral damage will be..."

"There is no other choice."

"How long to be ready?"

"We're working around the clock, but events have outpaced us. A month at least to reach the required amount of devices. Maybe a week more for the delivery system."

"How long can we last?"

"We have enough food supplies for our normal population and the extradites for two months at a stretch. No more."

"That's cutting things close. If the project suffers any setbacks..."

"I know. But we don't have any other options."

"And the effect is assured? We're only going to get one shot at this."

"It's a proven technology, we're just expanding the scope. The "Angry Sky" mechanisms are more than powerful enough to achieve the effect we desire. Blanket coverage is assured with twelve units, but we're producing twenty just in case of malfunctions or interdiction efforts."

"To think that its come to this..."

"Orb didn't last nearly as long as we predicted. Hard luck for us all."

"It's us or them. There is no other way to look at it now. And this is a lot more merciful than GENESIS."

"We're ending an entire civilization! Can something like that be decided by just twelve of us?"

"It has to be. So we are in agreement? Speak now if you dissent." There was a long silence.

"Very well then. Continue with all resources dedicated to the Angry Sky Project. Operation Overload will tenatively be commenced one and a half months from this date. This emergency council meeting is now adjourned. Thank you for your time."

"Hopefully history will forgive us."

"After the mechanisms go off, we're going to be the only ones with a recorded history."

"They pushed us to this."

"Lets not talk about it anymore."

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Author note: All right reviewers, its time for me to indulge a little audience participation. I've some ideas for my next few chapters, which will be devoted to describing the "vacation" time of our favorite good guys, one full chapter per couple (or trio in one case). However, more ideas is always better, so I'd like to ask you, the reader, to tell me what sort of encounters/events/occurences YOU'D like to see for your various favorite people. I can't promise anything, but if I'm struck by an idea you could very easily find me taking it and running with it. I'm writing this for audience enjoyment after all. And my own, naturally. After I do a chapter for each couple there will be at least one or two for the group as a whole, probably one for the good guys, one for the bad (being Sai and the Isolationists). I'll take ideas and suggestions for those as well. We're in the last 100,000ish words now (can't be specific, because the way I write I just keep going until everything I want to have done is done for a chapter). And after all the humor and romance and drama and "downtime" I'll finally be able to get to the climax I've been dreaming of for most of two years now.

I'm sorry to ask for so much from you, reviewers, but I beg selfishness for just a bit. I know I've asked this before, but I have a good number of new reviewers and a lot has happened in the story... characters have changed. I have a few questions I'd like answered... kind of like a brief audience poll of whats good and not so good. So, whats your:

1. Favorite Original Character and why... just a sentence or two.

2. Least Favorite OC and why

3.Favorite Mobile Suit, why

4. Canon character I represent best 

5. Canon character I don't do well at

6. Something I need to work on or add to the story to make it just a teensy bit better in your opinion. Or a lot better, whichever you feel is needed.

Thanks to you all in advance. My writing lives for your reviews... more reviews motivate me to write MUCH faster. Which is why I've been pumping out the chapters at such a pace recently.

P.S. Oh, I almost forgot. My story summary has always struck me as inadequate advertising for the story. Can anyone help me with some ideas for something better? Thanks.


	94. Two's Company, Three is a Crowd

Murrue Ramius looked around the debarking concourse. Ysak and Katie were just disappearing into the shuttle terminal again, bound for the Martius terminal, where they would board a flight for Ysak's home city, where they would spend the greater part of their two week vacation. With them gone, it was now just the adults. Well, just Murrue, Waltfeld and Kisaka... technically Raine and Alkire were adults, despite how they acted much of the time. Murrue's smile was briefly ruined by the thought of Victor, who'd died so heroically defusing a bomb that would have blown the entire Archangel to tiny pieces. Whatever her own opinion of TEMPEST... whatever anyone else said about them... there was one thing that could never be denied. When the chips were down, and every tick of the clock mattered, when you really, truly needed people to pull through for you, no matter what... she didn't know anyone else she'd rather have defending her life. TEMPEST was far from the only group to suffer losses in the name of preserving the ideals of the Clyne Faction, but their deaths were among the most significant, marking events that radically changed the flow of history.

"Looking glum again." Waltfeld said cheerfully, hefting his and her luggage. He was sweating slightly, being forced to wear a long sleeved shirt because of his mechanical right arm.

"I guess its just having too much free time on my hands. It's going to be hard, just relaxing. I keep expecting someone to call me and ask me to solve some crises or other." Murrue replied, attempting a smile. Kisaka appeared on the other side of her, clutching his own luggage.

"It's pleasant to stand here, but we should probably find lodging somewhere before things fill up too much." Kisaka said, craning his neck to look back at the shuttle terminal again.

"For god's sake, for someone who says such logical things, you sure can't listen to a bit of it from someone else. Cagalli will be fine. Not only is she with Athrun, but shes on the PLANTS! Do you know what our rate of violent crime is?" Waltfeld admonished him.

"One case per eight thousand people." Kisaka replied. "Do you know what Orb's was, when Lord Uzumi was in power?"

"Uh... no, I don't."

"One in twenty thousand. But you make a good point anyway. Shes gone and unless she tells me where she is, I can't follow her here, in territory I don't know." Kisaka's neck muscles almost visibly unclenched as he looked back at Waltfeld and Murrue. "You look uncomfortable, Mr. Waltfeld."

"It's the damn shirt. Hotter than hell. Don't have much choice though, unless I want everybody and their brother gawking at the arm. And call me Andrew. I think we know each other well enough for that."

"Very well, you can call me Ledonir then."

"I planned to."

"I hate to interrupt such a scintillating conversation, gentlemen, but we're not making any progress. Andrew, I've heard the PLANTS have very advanced prosthetics... maybe we can find something to disguise your arm with, so you can walk around in public without having to make yourself uncomfortable? Normally I'm not much of one for urge spending, but we DO have all this money to get rid of." Murrue hefted the backpack Alkire had handed her.

"She speaks sense. I like it." Waltfeld said briskly. "The express elevator is this way. After you, Ms. Ramius." Waltfeld gave a half bow and gestured towards the elevator bank.

"Indeed, let's go." Kisaka stepped forward and offered his arm to Murrue. "Shall we, Ms. Ramius?" Kisaka said politely. He missed the squinty eyed look Waltfeld shot him when Murrue's back was turned.

The elevator ride down to the city levels was uneventful, as was the search for an adequate series of hotel rooms, one for each of them. Privately Waltfeld felt they overpaid for them, but they did have money to spare, didn't they? Technically they could have stayed at Waltfelds old place... but it wasn't more than a two bedroom flat, and it was all the way over on Aprilius Eight. Maybe they'd get over that way eventually, but not for a while yet. A quick look through the city directory while Kisaka arranged the lodging gave Waltfeld several good places to look for advice on prosthetics. A short ride on one of the automated public buses brought them to the business. It was pleasant to sit and talk with two peers. Not about the war, just about things. Weather, sports, non-war politics, movies... to talk shop with people of his generation.

The first business turned out to be a gold mine. Not only were the doctors enormously knowledgable, but they had specialty prosthetic covers in inhouse stock. Full limb prosthetics weren't exactly common, but the war had sadly created a relative boom in the business formerly dominated by construction or recreation accidents. The doctors marvelled at the sophistication of Waltfeld's inherited arm, though they were quietly snooty about how crude the construction was. Fully operable prosthetic replacements were extremely rare, much less ones that actually allowed for upgraded performance over the old biologic matter, but the skeletal look was a major problem. When the doctors asked him where he'd gotten the surgery done, he told them that it had been on Earth, during the war. They'd nodded and shot each other looks and gave him their condolonces, but the war made everything a little cruder than necessary. He didn't quite know what to say to that, so he just shrugged.

Finally, they wheeled out a selection of flesh simulation arm covers, after they took the measurements of the arm, which was slightly longer than his other, real arm. Waltfeld was surprised at how good the covers were... they even felt warm to the touch. The doctors assured him that when properly attached, the covers were totally watertight, and each cover was slightly photoreactive, allowing the arms to tan along with the wearer, to a certain degree anyway. It would always be possible for someone looking for it to notice the arm was different from the rest of the body, but casual passersby would have no way of telling the difference. Waltfeld hemmed and hawwed and took three of them in varying flesh tones. The cost was steep... steeper than he could have afforded on his own. But it barely even made a dent in the cache Alkire had given them. The doctors thanked him for his business and expressed their regrets that medical technology had not yet progressed to the point of making ocular prosthetics, but he waved it off. Having one eye was inconvenient at times, but it wasn't too hard to deal with. 

He walked out into the lobby and frowned slightly. Murrue was reading a magazine. That was the same thing she'd been doing when he went in to consult the doctors. Kisaka was sitting next to her, also glancing idly through an editorial. But Kisaka had been sitting across the room when Waltfeld went into the fitting room and the place was practically deserted... no reason for the big Orb soldier to switch places. Unless he was trying to get closer to someone for some reason. Waltfeld hid his frown, but inside it grew deeper. He'd been thinking some half formed thoughts... in war time they were impractical and counterproductive, but they weren't strictly on war time now. But apparently Kisaka was having similar thoughts. That would need to be addressed. "So... whos up for dinner then? I know a good place." Waltfeld beckoned with his newly covered arm for them to follow him.

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Murrue was in the restroom, tidying up after the meal. Waltfeld had picked up the check for the meal, for tonight anyway. He and Kisaka were nursing their drinks while they waited for Murrue to come back so they could leave. Waltfeld took a sip of his drink and eyed Kisaka over the rim of his glass. The Orb Colonel did likewise to Waltfeld. They'd been getting along fine all night, telling stories, listening to stories, making jokes, having a good time. But now Murrue was temporarily gone.

"All right, Ledonir, let's talk." Waltfeld said at length. "I think we've both recently discovered something unfortunate."

"You have a point." Kisaka admitted. "How long have you been attracted to Murrue?"

"Pretty much since this war started. You?" Waltfeld took another sip. Hopefully they could be gentlemanly about this.

"About as long. It was never the right time to discuss it though."

"We're friends, aren't we? I know we used to be enemies... but now, we're friends?" Waltfeld asked.

"I have too many enemies to want to consider you one of them. Yes, we are friends. Perhaps not pals, but friends." Kisaka replied.

"That's what I figured as well." Waltfeld sipped again, leaving nothing but ice in his glass. "Care to make a friendly bet then?"

"I'm listening." Kisaka swirled his own drink around a few times, listening to the ice clink.

"We've got thirteen days left before we meet up with everyone again. I bet I can get a french kiss from Murrue before then. Not only that, but I bet I can do it before you do."

"This is childish." Kisaka knocked back his drink in one go. "I accept. Rules?"

"Let's keep this civil and covert. Murrue can't learn about the bet. No mudslinging behind the other guy's back either. We win this on personal merit, not how well we can sabotage the other guy. As for specifics on how you win the kiss... you can't trick her into it. It's gotta be because she wants to kiss you. Other than that... no holds barred and may the better man win."

"Sounds good to me." Kisaka confirmed, watching Murrue head back towards the table. He and Waltfeld shook on the deal, keeping their hands below the edge of the table so Murrue wouldn't see. Tomorrow they were planning to go to the beach. It promised to be very entertaining. 

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Of the almost infinite ways to relax, lying on a pool chair on a golden sand beach, looking up at a nearly cloudless blue sky while listening to the sound of small waves lapping away only a few feet distant was one of the best, in Murrue's opinion. A table for drinks rested at her elbow and a portable sunshade kept the worst of the reflected sunlight off her when she got too hot and turned translucent when she decided to work on her tan some. A well placed strand of bushes provided a physical and visual barrier between the somewhat more placid Adult section of the beach and the rowdy, boisterous mayhem of the Kids section. She was clad in a one piece white bathing suit she'd bought from the hotel store that morning... nothing fancy or exotic, just something less confining than clothes but still modest. She'd never been shy or a prude, but she didn't make her body into a public spectacle like some women. Murrue turned from lying on her front to lying on her back and adjusted the sunglasses on her eyes to a slightly more comfortable position, suddenly becoming aware of a person standing next to her.

"Hey, pretty lady, want a nice cool, refreshing juice cocktail? I had one made at the bar but it was just too perfect not to share." Waltfeld asked lightly, placing a hollowed out coconut shell with a base so it didn't roll around on the drink table. The tart scent of chilled pineapples and cranberries mixed with just a few hints of lemon liquor wafted from the drink.

"Thank you Andrew, thats very considerate. A cold drink would hit the spot." Murrue sat up and stretched, oblivious to the way Waltfeld's eye lingered on her. Like her, he'd bought a swimsuit that morning, though he'd displayed his usual eccentric tastes... his swim trunks were bright lime green, with alternating blue and red tiger stripes. The Desert Tiger had gone Technicolor, as he'd joked at the time. He too had sunglasses, though his were wraparounds with a mirror sheen, to help hide the fact that he only had one eye, though currently they rested on the slightly wind touseled mop of brown hair he called a hairstyle. They both sipped their drinks and savored the strong fruity and zesty flavor, not to mention the delicious chill. "Have you seen Ledonir? He disappeared almost a half hour ago and hasn't returned yet."

"Can't say as I have." Waltfeld shrugged. _His loss. Gotta put in the time, Kisaka, if you want to get anywhere with a woman._ Waltfeld stretched, luxuriating in the feeling of flesh on flesh as he clasped his hands behind his back and extended them to their limit. _This prosthetic cover has really been worth it. No one's even looked twice. Course, I wouldn't mind if a certain someone did a little looking..._

Murrue watched Andrew stretch out. He looked so happy now that he didn't have to worry about being the center of attention because of how his mechnical limb looked. Murrue knew where to look, and she could barely tell where the cover ended and the flesh of the shoulder began. It was only by watching the play of muscles and how they differed fromthe left arm to the right that she could tell from a distance. And they were nice muscles too. Murrue had never seen Waltfeld in swimming gear before, but she was forced to admit, he definitely looked pretty good. Of course, he was a Coordinator, and a former ZAFT commander at that... physical fitness was a given. But Andrew had obviously put in some work to not only get strength but also defined tone... sharp six pack, clearly defined abs... it wasn't until she dropped her gaze to his legs that Murrue realized she was staring. She coughed slightly and turned her head slightly away, mildly embarassed. She wasn't a schoolgirl anymore, to ogle a man just for his body. Besides, he was her good friend and subordinate. And Mu still had a firm grip on her heart, even now.

"Care to go for a swim later, after we finish our drinks? We'll have to re-oil up afterwards, but thats better than getting burned, eh?" Andrew said with a wink and a grin. Murrue smiled back. If there was one thing Andrew was really good at, it was making other people smile, even if it was just for a moment. There was just something about his forthright and slightly oddball manner that was endearing.

"That sounds like a great idea. Too bad Ledonir isn't here."

"Someone mention my name?" Kisaka said, suddenly looming on the other side of Murrue. Murrue looked over at him and felt her eyes widening. Kisaka was a very distinguished looking man with his large size and steel grey hair. There weren't many people Kisaka's age that could pull off a plain black speedo without looking either pathetic or awkward... but Kisaka was one of the rare few that actually looked REALLY good in one. He definitely had the build and the tan for it. Andrew was a well built man, but Kisaka almost made him look thin. Muscles rippled and flexed across his broad chest and up and down his arms and thick legs. Kisaka had the build of a serious competition weightlifter, clearly he did a lot of physical training during his off time. He was sweating just ever so slightly, as if he'd just finished warming up for something. What that was wasn't too hard to figure out, because under one arm Kisaka clutched a brand new looking surfboard, hardly even waxed.

_That is so not cool. _Waltfeld studied his opponent with a frown. He'd thought he'd go get Murrue a drink and invite her for a swim, just incidentally showing off his build in the process. Physical looks weren't everything, especially since she was a longtime acquaintance, but it never hurt to show off the goods a little. He might have been past thirty, but he wasn't anywhere near to over the hill yet... he was fitter than a man ten years his junior, in most cases. And he looked it too. But then Kisaka had to show up, looking like a surfer-god out of a movie, and now Waltfeld could almost see the comparison Murrue had to be doing in her head, even unconsciously. And no matter how he sliced it, in terms of manly appeal in a physical sense, Kisaka had him beat hands down. The fact that he could surf... a major plus factor for most women... was just icing on the cake. Waltfeld had to think of something quick, before he lost all the momentum he'd been building up.

"I didn't know you surfed., Ledonir." Murrue commented. Kisaka shrugged and planted his free hand on his waist as he worked an imaginary kink out of his neck. Weight training was good for more than just building size and muscle mass... he'd also learned how to show off his muscle to best advantage. It made him feel like he was in college again, flexing on the beaches to get attention from pretty girls... but was that really a bad thing? He knew he was getting appreciative looks, and not just from Murrue. He was currently the biggest, manliest man on the beach... he was slightly surprised to see that his "muscle sense" had returned from his college days as well. God, he'd been so shallow then. But it did feel good.

"I was born in the desert, but I grew up on the islands." Kisaka flashed a small smile. No sense it overdoing it too much... Andrew was already giving him the evil eye. "Surfing was something of a hobby of mine throughout high school and college. Helped me find the odd girlfriend, but I haven't surfed seriously in years." Kisaka shook his head and laughed. "I just hope I don't make a total fool of myself."

"I didn't think there was enough tidal pull in the PLANTS to generate big enough waves to surf on." Murrue commented, looking at the "ocean" which was really just a large lake. None of the waves were more than a foot high.

"There isn't." Waltfeld confirmed, trying not to clench his teeth. _Which is why I never learned to surf. Never even saw a real "wave" wave outside of movies till I was deployed to Africa. This is going to suck._ "However there are a few beaches that have installed equipment at special locations offshore that can generate bigger waves on command, for recreational and other purposes. I hadn't realized there was a scheduled competition today."

"There wasn't. However, I had a little talk with the beach staff and they agreed to an impromptu event, after I offered to recompense them for the operational costs and provide the prize as well." Kisaka said calmly. They should be announcing it shortly. Winner will be determined by acclaimation, contest is open to anyone with a board."

"Cool. Where do you buy boards?" Waltfeld asked, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

"You can surf too, Andrew? I'm surprised." Murrue shrugged. "Well, you two have fun. I'll be cheering for you both."

"You buy boards over here." Kisaka inclined his head, motioning for Waltfeld to accompany him. As soon as they were out of earshot of Murrue he turned to look at Waltfeld. "You don't know how to surf, do you?"

"I can barely even pass the annual swimming requirement for active duty in ZAFT." Waltfeld admitted freely. "Running, running I can do easy. Some for calisthenics. Swimming... Desert Tiger. Not Desert Tigershark."

"It's not something you can just wing." Kisaka said after a few moments thought. "You could get hurt reasonably bad if you mess up too terribly."

"I'll have to take that chance. I can't let you win without a fight."

"Very well, I have warned you. But don't blame me if you end up looking like a complete fool." Kisaka pointed at a temporary building. "You buy the boards in there. I'll be waiting here. The board needs some rewaxing."

"I'm a Coordinator... I never look like a "complete" fool." Waltfeld retorted. _Though there is a first time for everything. I am going to regret this. So much._

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"Are you sure you're feeling all right, Andrew?" Murrue asked the next morning. "You took a pretty good spill there during the contest yesterday. Your face still looks a little raw from where you got dragged along the sand by the wave."

"I'm fine, thanks. Nothing is bruised more than my pride." Waltfeld said, trying for confident and self assured. It was a little hard, speaking as he was through two fat lips and sand blasted face. Keeping his balance atop the surfboard hadn't been too bad at first. He'd gotten standing up with almost no problem at all. Just as he'd been congratulating himself on a job well done things had gone sour. The board seemed to just jet out from beneath his feet and he backflopped directly into the water. As if that wasn't bad enough, the wave carried him with it and slammed him into the sandy bottom after it crested, then dragged him almost twenty feet down the shore before letting him return to the surface, sputtering and choking. Then his board, tied by a tether to his ankle, and come sailing over and cracked him on the back of the head. All in all, not one of his better moments. Especially because he got to watch Kisaka pull a snazzy little jump trick a few times on his own run, then coast entirely up onto the beach like it was nothing at all. When it came time for judging, Waltfeld got as many laughs as he did cheers.

But it was okay. He was putting it behind him. Today was a new day. Even if his entire body still ached. Murrue was first out the door, leaving Kisaka and Waltfeld alone for a moment. "You're ahead for the moment, but I got the pity points, I think."

"Quite. Should be an interesting day today, hmm?"

"Don't pretend you're not gloating. I will learn to surf. And I will be better than you. It'll just take some time. But I am a Coordinator and we both know that means I'll eventually be better."

"I think you're taking this whole thing a little too personally. But what do I know, since I never planned on getting pity points." Kisaka walked out the door after Murrue.

"Okay, you want it like that... the kid gloves come off, Ledonir. Right now." Waltfeld headed out the doors after them both. Today was Waltfelds day. They'd split up the days of their vacation, alloting a few to each person to plan out and control, at least as far as main events went. Tomorrow was Kisaka's day, but Waltfeld would worry about that later. Today it was time to introduce his friends to his greatest passion... coffee making. He took them to a coffee factory and walked them through the steps to creating the average cup of coffee on the street, from the moment the bean was harvested to the instant the grounds dissolved and produced that most sublime dark liquid. He might have overdone it a tad, explaining the myriad ways you could flavor coffee by using this or that additive or organic seasoning, but coffee was a worthy thing to be slightly obsessive over. When his friends started looking a little glassy eyed and tired, he made them coffee right on the spot, commenting right then and there that coffee was one of the only things that could make you more awake so that you could learn more about it. Kind of like a self fufilling prophecy.

The only mar to the day was when he came back from the restroom to find Kisaka and Murrue sitting together at a table in the coffee factory's lounge. That they were sitting together was bad enough... that they were whispering to each other and then broke off with slightly guilty looks as soon as he came into view was much worse. Waltfeld frowned... Kisaka was pressing his advantage hard. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought it was going to be, back when he proposed the bet. But he couldn't back down now. He retired that night satisifed that he'd at least won back some of the lead Kisaka had gained from the beach... how could you not like a guy who knew so much about such a vital thing as coffee?

The next day was Kisaka's day. Unbearably tormented with boredom after suffering through Waltfeld's coffee factory tour of the previous day, Kisaka had elected to indulge one of his own passions to regain his equilibrium. If it wasn't for the way Murrue had been yawning and fidgeting yesterday as well, Kisaka would have thought Waltfeld was bending the rules of the bet to strike at him directly, but he was forced to conclude that Waltfeld really did just love coffee THAT much. Well, at least they'd gotten it out of the way early... they wouldn't have to suffer again for a good while. So instead of going somewhere dreadfully boring and ultimately pointless, Kisaka brought his friends to the theater. Not the movie theater, but the actual theater, where actors recited their lines from memory and wore actual costumes. Kisaka was an avid amatuer thespian in his limited off time. There wasn't anything particularly major playing in the theater they went to, but it was light years better than a coffee factory.

"So what kind of roles do you usually play?" Murrue asked. This was a side of Kisaka she'd never even imagined existed.

"I usually audition for the more light hearted, free spirited roles. I find it a refreshing change of pace from my work life. Often I am in fact scripted to female roles, especially the more sardonic ones, though I also enjoy a naive youngster every once in a while."

_He freely admits this? Either he has no concept of masculine pride, or he's entirely gay. It can't be the latter or else the bet is pointless... but the former doesn't make much sense either._ Waltfeld could almost see the points falling away from Kisaka's score, even as he stifled his chortles at the mental image of Kisaka acting out the part of a teenage girl in a dress. Maybe in a satire, but Kisaka had sounded perfectly serious.

"What's your favorite part of being an actor?" Murrue asked, seemingly quite interested. Waltfeld cursed inwardly... he should have forseen this. Though Waltfeld personally found this hobby of Kisaka's extremely amusing, it was just the sort of thing to appeal to the romantic threads of a woman's heart. Once again, Kisaka seemed to have outmaneuvered him with an unconventional approach. And worse yet, Waltfeld couldn't even poke fun at him now, because that would make him an insensitive dick.

"I like the costumes. Maybe its the child in me, but I don't ever seem to have grown out of loving to dress up in costumes. People have told me I look particularly good in frills and lace, but I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with that assessment."

_Well good, you aren't gay then. Or at least not classically gay. But I can't say anything! If I make fun of him, I'm going to appear like a complete brute. He's good at this, damn him. Very good._ Waltfeld forced himself to sit attentively throughout the amateur play they were there to see. The urge to lean over and keep up a slightly sarcastic running commentary to Murrue was strong... he used to do it with Aisha all the time... but a glance showed him she seemed quite taken with the play itself. More bad luck for him. This called for desperate measures.

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"Mr. Waltfeld, do you have any concept of what time it is?" Kira's voice was curiously flat and hard. He also sounded somewhat out of breath. Of course, that he was talking at all was great news, since it meant he'd woken up and seemed to have regained most if not all of his faculties. But right now, Waltfeld had something slightly more important to ask about than catching up. It had been three days since the theater. Three days of running himself ragged on his best, most mature and charming behavior. Three days of seeing his best efforts get circumvented with ease by Ledonir. There as just something about the Orb Colonel's habits, mannerisms and ability to reveal an entirely new, somewhat quirky but just not so-strange-as-to-be-silly, side at the drop of a hat. Waltfeld could almost see Murrue's buttons getting pushed by Kisaka and he was doing precious little button pushing himself. He knew he was a sexy devil... but his approach worked better on younger women, while Kisaka seemed much better at making time with women of their own age category.

_If they were single, and old enough NOT to be jail bait... I could probably have picked up Cagalli and Miriallia with MY methods in a manner of days at most. But... it's just not working on Murrue. I have no other choice. I have to go there and become the ultimate woman killer. The awkward and naive highschooler! I have to retrieve that persona! And I have to retrieve the methodolgy of someone who's almost too shy to even glance at the girl he likes!_ "Yes, I know it's late. But this is urgent. I really, really need your help, Kira."

"This can wait until the morning." Kira was drowned out for a moment by some sort of background noise. "I'm very... involved in something... right now." Kira's voice took on a strained quality.

"No, it can't wait until the morning! I need this question answered now! Please, Kira, you're among my last hopes! I wouldn't be calling if I wasn't desperate!" Waltfeld replied "Are you working out? You're breathing really heavily. You should be careful, you're still recovering."

"Mr. Waltfeld. It is past midnight. Do you have any inkling as to what it is I do most nights when I have free time?" Kira was sounding less and less exasperated and more and more actually angry as the conversation continued.

"Uhm..." _Uh oh. Coordinators recover fast, especially Ultimate Coordinators. I appear to have miscalculated some. But I NEED to have this question answered._ "Well... if you're busy, could you put Lacus on?"

There was a short pause, as if Kira was gathering patience and Waltfeld heard a muted gasp of some sort. Not quite pain but something else. "Mr. Waltfeld." Kira's voice was very forceful. "At this time of night, when I am busy, Lacus is similarly busy. Please sir, you are interrupting a very..." Kira swallowed hard. "... very involved process."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Let me just ask the question and I'll leave you two alone." _Wow, this is awkward. But I couldn't call any earlier, Kisaka was with me until about twenty minutes ago. It was hard enough pretending to get trashed in the bar, there was no way I could have snuck off to make a phone call without looking totally suspicious. And I couldn't leave the two of them to get pleasantly tipsy together... who knows what might have occured?_ "What's Murrue's favorite flower and color? Please, I need to know."

"Mr. Waltfeld." Kira sounded near his limit. Waltfeld had to keep his mind studiously clear... but all the faint noises he'd been hearing in the background were making that very difficult. _He really is talented... I don't know if I could hold an unrelated conversation and keep it up at the same time._ "I haven't the slightest clue. Murrue is my friend, nothing more. She's almost twice my age. Why would I bother finding out something like that? Ask Mir, she MIGHT know. Now good night, Mr. Waltfeld. And don't call me when you're drunk EVER again."

"I'm not drunk! Kira! Kira? Are you there, Kira?" Waltfeld pulled the cell phone away from his ear. Disconnected. _Well, that could have gone better. Course, if I were him, I don't know if I could have been even half as civil. I better not call back. He's not the type to hold a grudge... but if Lacus were to answer the phone... yikes._ Instead Waltfeld looked up a different number in his directory and hit speed dial for that. On the third try, he got the right number. _Okay, maybe I am a little fried. But I couldn't tell Ledonir to stop pouring the shots, not when it was my idea to start drinking them in the first place. Come on Coordinator body... metabolize... metabolize._ "Hello? Miriallia?"

"Who the hell is it this time?" A very grumpy female voice replied. It was Miriallia, but she sounded pretty put out by something. Waltfeld winced. His luck couldn't be that bad could it, to call two couples during lovemaking?

"Um, this is Andrew Waltfeld. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Nothing besides my precious beauty rest!"

"Kira told me to call you because you might know the answer to the question I have. But don't call him and bawl him out. He's..."

"Fucking Lacus for all he's worth, yeah, we know. Everyone but you three has known that since day four.

"I see." Waltfeld didn't, but his mind was a bit hazy at the moment. It seemed to be the thing to say. "Well let me get out of your hair then. Do you know what Murrue's favorite color and flower are?"

"Why do you want to know? Her birthday isn't for a while yet, and there aren't any gift giving holidays coming up." Miriallia sounded slightly calmer but much more suspicious.

"Please, Miriallia? I'd owe you big."

Miriallia gave a long and loud sigh. "Fine. She loves columbine flowers. And her favorite color is blue. But I think it might still be too soon to be making that kind of advance, Mr. Waltfe..." Andrew hung up. _Columbines. Blue. Got it. Next stop... specialty flower store._ Waltfeld spun on his heel and then staggered as the world kept spinning and spinning and spinning. _Maybe... I do... need... some time..._

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It was two mornings past the night when Waltfeld had made his desperate calls. He'd woken up early to get ready. He dressed in the clothes he'd bought... slacks and sportsjacket of royal blue, with a cyan shirt and an azure cummerbund bowtie and black wingtip shoes polished to mirror sheen. He grabbed the blue wrapped box of chocolates and the bouquet of garden grown columbine flowers wrapped in white paper with an azure ribbon around the bundle and headed outside. He stepped around the corner of the building as he waited for Murrue to emerge. This had to look spontaneous or it would lose ninety percent of its effect. he found himself checking his watch every few minutes. Time seemed mired in glue. But then at last the front door to the hotel complex opened and Murrue walked out, clad in an elegant cream dress. Today they were going to go visit some museums and art galleries, the highlight of which would be the world famous Evidence 01, the winged whale from Saturn's moons.

Waltfeld gave his bowtie one final adjustment and then stepped around the corner at a brisk but purposeful pace. He made sure to falter slightly as he got close and he kept his gaze on the ground the entire way. _Nervous. Nervous and naive. Endearingly unrefined. You can do it._ Waltfeld looked up and had to fight a deep scowl. Murrue was watching him with a somewhat bemused expression on her face, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Kisaka was approaching from around the other corner of the building. Kisaka was dressed in blue as well, the only major difference in their clothing was that Kisaka had a regular tie while Andrew had a bowtie. They both clutched near identical wrapped boxes of chocolates and bouquets of flowers. Waltfeld met Kisaka's gaze. _So that's what Miriallia meant when she said "this time". We do think alike at times, Ledonir. But I'm surprised... she didn't give any hint at all that Ledonir had just asked her the same question I did. I didn't realize she was so devious._

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I knew we agreed to dress up nicely, but I never expected you two to go with matching outfits, even if blue isn't my most favorite color. You both look very striking." Murrue complimented them. "What's in the boxes?"

"Just a little snack for later." Kisaka said, brushing some imaginary lint off his shoulders with an air of studied indifference. Murrue wrinkled her nose slightly and sneezed. She sneezed again a moment later. And again. And again.

"Are those... those flowers, any chance... achoo!... columbines?" Murrue asked, eyes and nose watering. Both men nodded slowly. "Oh. I used to love them... achoo!... so much when I was a girl. But their fragrance... I'm... achoo!... allergic to it. They're lovely... ACHOO!... lovely flowers, but please keep them away from me. Excuse me, I need to use the ladies room." Murrue hurried back into the building. Kisaka and Waltfeld both watched her go in silence. When the doors whined shut behind her, they slowly turned, with glacial calm, and regarded each other again.

_I have been betrayed._ Waltfeld thought glumly. The only ray of light in this entire fiasco was that Kisaka had ALSO been set up. "So, did you try and call Kira, as well as Miriallia?" Waltfeld asked after a moment.

"No, I should have thought of that. But I could have sworn I instructed Miriallia to feed you false information if you called after me. I was a little drunk, but I'm pretty sure I told her to tell you about roses and the color yellow." Kisaka replied thoughtfully. "This is the last time I'll ever rely on uncollaborated information from a female source."

"If you ever do call Kira, don't call after dark. He's awake by the way, and doing fine. More than fine even. I... I uh, managed to call during a heated moment."

"How heated?"

Waltfeld shrugged, still slightly uncomfortable. "Extremely heated. Explosive even."

"He certainly does recover fast."

"Advantage of being young. I was more impressed that he managed to hold a mostly civil conversation with me while maintaining the pace. I would have thrown the phone against the wall if it had rung while I was in the middle of a bed-creaking bout of sex."

"Me too. But he has reserves of patience and generosity the rest of us can barely imagine." Kisaka tossed his bouquet into the nearest trash bin. "And stamina too, apparently." There was a multisecond paused, during which Waltfeld trashed his flowers too.

"So you freely admit to attempting to feed me misinformation and sabotage my efforts?" Waltfeld asked calmly.

"This was supposed to be on merit alone. The fact that either of us started calling other people is proof enough that we've already escalated past the point of caring about the rules."

"This is going to get ugly now."

"If you can't swim, you shouldn't get in the water, Andrew."

"Make fun. We'll see whos laughing at the end of the day."

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Waltfeld was right. Over the course of the next few days, the bet did turn ugly. They spent more time tearing each other down than actually trying to build a relationship with Murrue. Waltfeld had the advantage of being on home ground... he knew where everything was, and perhaps more importantly, where everything wasn't. And since Kisaka was as dependent on his knowledge for getting around as Murrue was, that gave him plenty of opportunity to either ditch Kisaka or send him on wild goose chases. It got to the point that Kisaka no longer trusted directions from Waltfeld... and he was a great deal more hesitant about being the one to open a door first. How was he supposed to know the sign for rest roomand dressing room were the same in the PLANTS? Or that there were sometimes seperate bathrooms for young children and adults? Or that riding a green line bus one way around the circuit didn't mean it would stop on the same stops on the way back? Waltfeld had gotten him lost for almost six hours like that. And Kisaka resolved to put in a written petition that the resteraunts should change from electronic menus back to paper ones... or at least not require that orders be inputted by a registered citizen... he'd never had so many messed up meals in his life.

Waltfeld's coup de 'etat came when he managed to hack/buy a way into the hotel's internal computer networks and set it up so Kisaka got a spurious wake up call every eight minutes for ten hours straight, and downloaded a bunch of mature porn onto his movie selection palette just before they sat down to watch a movie with Murrue. Dialling up his ventilation vans to maximum speed and turning the heat on full were just icing on the cake. And placing an order for six hundred "extra stretchy" jock straps, to be hand delivered to his door by a paid delivery service who specialized in clowns singing happy birthday songs was just cruel... especially at one in the morning. Kisaka could, of course, never prove hands down that Waltfeld was the one antagonizing him, but he knew. And if you poke a sleeping bear long enough and hard enough, its sure to take a swipe at you.

Kisaka didn't know the area, didn't know who to talk to or who to buy or where to go even. But he was a resourceful man, who used to be an instructor at a school that taught counter-insurgency and counter-terrorist warfare. He'd taught Alkire and Raine and Victor and even Vlad some of the tricks of the trade. He'd even been offered a NCO position in the Hellhounds by Asmodeus, years before when the unit was first forming. Give him a few pieces of bent wire and a few seconds of unobserved time and there was barely a lock he couldn't pick. Electronic locks were tougher, but after a few hours scrounging around in junk and secondhand electronics stores he ha dall the materials he needed. It was actually alarming in some cases... he didn't have the inclination, but he could have built a fairly effective bomb from the parts he'd gotten. But while he eventually started to consider bombing Waltfeld's room... right after the jock strap delivery... initially he used his talents in other ways.

He broke into Waltfeld's room on several occasions, short sheeting the bed, swapping out his shaving cream for whipped cream, dusting down his underwear and socks with itching powder and scattering crumbs and other pest attractors into the corners. That last one didn't pan out too well... unlike on Earth, the PLANTS had almost no insects and a very small vermin population. There was almost no wildlife at all actually, outside of zoos and other special environments. After Waltfeld had kept up the public humiliation for a day or two, Kisaka had started applying a little more pressure... he went to a local arts and crafts store and bought some dehydrated paint. Just dust it on and add water, to dye whatever surface you need to the color you desire. The shower heads were still mechanical, and it was the work of moments with a small screwdriver to pack the shower head full of sunburn red paint dust. Lining the prosthetic arm sleeves with a pungent smelling concotion of garlic cloves, vinegar and egg whites had been his last major blow before Waltfeld started the heavy shit... the porn, the sleepless night, the racous jock strap delivery.

Not one to take that sort of attack lying down, Kisaka had come back by buying a massive collection of extremely dirty hentai magazines, which he tore apart and made a collage from, which he then had sent to the most prestigous all girls high school he could locate on the PLANTS, signing Waltfeld's name and giving Murrue's room as the home address, using his skills at forgery to perfectly imitate Waltfeld's handwriting, which he'd observed from watching Waltfeld sign dinner checks. He then hid the remaining bits and pieces of the hentai mags in various obvious places in Waltfeld's room... under the bathroom sink, under some clothes in his drawers, in the nightstand, etc. Listening to Murrue grill Waltfeld over why she was getting hate mail from dozens of outraged parents with his name on it was sweet music to his ears, only surpassed when, after Waltfeld invited Murrue to search his room for any evidence at all of dirty magazines, she told him she was "Very Disappointed" in him, since she discovered quite a lot.

And so they spent their remaining time, until the final day before they were due to meet up with the various couples again. Both men were run quite ragged, and Murrue, who remained ignorant of the bet, nonetheless was reasonably sure that both men were fighting about something, waging a covert war around her that she was only peripherally aware of. Given the possible things they could be fighting about, which were limited for two such mature people as Ledonir Kisaka and Andrew Waltfeld, Murrue had to admit she was somewhat flattered. In fact, if she thought of it that way, much of the strange behavior from both men in the previous two weeks actually made a lot of sense. But just because it was flattering, didn't mean that she was just going to let things continue like they were. For one, both men seemed to be close to actively disliking each other, and for another she wasn't a prize to be fought over. For the last dinner they went to one of the most elegant resteraunts in the PLANTS, the legendary Norman's Grill. An unprepossing name, but it was renowned throughout the PLANTS and even on Earth as being one of the top six resteraunts around, in terms of quality and selection of food. The bills were somewhat steep, usually around five or six hundred dollars per person per full meal, not counting drinks... but that in itself said something about how good it was.

You could order pretty much any dish from any cuisine style imaginable at Norman's. The resteraunt itself wasn't large... not more than twenty tables... but it was always packed. It had taken a significant portion of their remaining funds... almost ten thousand dollars in fact... to "buy out" a reservation made by some political group three months prior. But Waltfeld was adamant... if there was one experience to never miss in the PLANTS, it was eating at least once at Norman's. He'd only been there once himself, when he received his promotion to commander he'd treated Aisha and Dacosta and Dacosta's girlfriend of the time. It was a golden memory for him, and after listening to him rave about it, both Kisaka and Murrue had decided that they just had to take him up on it.

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"Dear God, you weren't wrong." Kisaka commented suddenly, after chewing and swallowing his first bite of Kudu venison. Kudu were a type of antelope native to Africa with a taste that was much gamier than steak or most other red meat animals, seasoned Kudu steak was a delicacy he hadn't had since his youth in Tassil. It was a dish that took some getting used to, especially since the traditional way to prepare it was to thickly marinade it in its own blood and serve it cold in the center, which was a hard thing to order in modern day "super sanitary" society. He'd been amazed to find it on the menu, and was now even more amazed because it was perfectly done. Natives of Tassil, even his own dead parents couldn't have done better with a fresh killed antelope, and this meat couldn't be fresh killed. Kisaka swallowed again and took a drink of his wine, also from Africa, a light and dry desert wine he never would have guessed they had in their cellar.

"Good, innit?" Waltfeld said with a broad smile, digging into his own Alaskan salmon shashimi. Kisaka would have never figured Waltfeld as one for asian food, especially raw fish, but Waltfeld was gobbling down the shreds of pink meat with every sign of culinary delight. Waltfeld was drinking the house ale, since Norman's was also a small microbrewery. "If I could eat here every day... hell, every month, I would be able to rest assured that I was a very successful person. And I would be very fat."

"Coordinators don't get fat. They just put on weight that hasn't turned into muscle yet." Murrue said with a smile. She herself had gone with a Greek lamb gyro salad slathered in cheese and vegetables... unlike her two comrades she did most of her fighting from the captain's chair, which offered little oppertunity to work off extra calories. "Seriously, Andrew, I would kill to have your metabolisim." Murrue was drinking water for tonight, since one of them would have to be the responsible adult making sure they got home all right. And she wanted a clear head, because she had some hard news for both men. Maybe it had been more than a year. Maybe it was time to give up false hope and move on with her life. But some part of her soul just wouldn't give up on Mu. The man who could make the impossible, possible. That part of her refused, against all evidence and the passing of time, to believe Mu was really dead. Maybe she would pursue another relationship eventually... god knows she wasn't actually married to Mu or anything... but it was still too soon. She sat back and glanced around the resteraunt. And her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

"Something wrong? Murrue? You look like you seen a ghost." Waltfeld asked, flicking another bite of salmon into his mouth and chewing blissfully, washing it down with a swig of beer.

"P-pardon me. I'll be right back." Murrue stood and lurched away from the table. She was aware of Kisaka and Waltfeld sneaking bites from her food as she walked away. She even heard Kisaka mutter "tastes fine to me", but the part of her noticing these things was almost insignificant. Meanwhile she continued heading towards one of the tables nestled away in the corner, one of the closest to the kitchen. The light was dim over here and the noise fromthe kitchen made it so any sort of quiet conversation would be difficult to overhear from more than a few feet away. The perfect table for lovers or politicians. There were currently four people sitting at it, all male. Uncles and nephews perhaps, or some form of school outing maybe. Two of the men were roughly her age, one was slightly younger than Kira and the last couldn't have been more than ten.

The ten year old suddenly looked up from his food and met her gaze. Her breath caught slightly in her throat and the room seemed to haze a bit. The only thing she seemed able to see was the child, with his snow blond hair and luminous purple eyes, so expressive that she felt like she was getting lost in their depths. Murrue swallowed hard, her mind teetering on the edge of a chasm as she forced herself to look at the two older gentleman, both of whom had their backs turned. One had raven wing black hair that hung to his lower back, that one was dressed in the blue overcoat of a PLANT politician. The other... the other was the one she was over here to see. It was impossible to be sure... but the way he sat... the way the back of his head, with that wonderful golden blond hair, looked... he looked just like Mu, in a lot of ways. Almost exactly in fact. Her logical mind told her it was impossible, that her Mu was scattered across half of space by the lohengrin blast. But her insistent soul wouldn't let the feeling go. She was just about to reach out to tap him on the shoulder when the ten year old tapped his spoon expectantly on the rim of his plate.

"Norman, I'm ready for the next course." The kid said breezily. Murrue found herself looking at him again. He was going to be a beautiful young man when he grew up. Platinum blonde, almost angel white locks of hair, even at that age, with those purple eyes almost like Kira's, though even darker in shade with little sparkles of silver and gold in the retina... it was easy to identify the child as a Coordinator. He met her gaze again and his smile seemed to expand to take up the world. She gasped slightly and shook her head, flinching away from a feeling like bile rising in her stomach.

"Can... I help you, ma'am?" The teenage Coordinator said suddenly. He too had blond hair, but his was a more normal yellowish color and he had bright blue eyes. Murrue gasped again as her stomach heaved. The blue eyes reminded her so much of Mu it was painful. "You don't look well."

Murrue hesitated. Why had she come over here again? It must have been because she wasn't feeling well. Something with the food hadn't agreed with her. But this wasn't the way to the bathroom. She shook her head again, but the feeling of logginess and the roiling in her abdomen did not fade. "I'm sorry. I got turned around while headed for the restroom. Please don't mind me." Murrue turned around and headed away. By the time she got near her own table again, her head and body felt bright and clear and refreshed as always. "Sorry about that. I felt lightheaded all of a sudden." Murrue took her seat again, brushing moisture out of the corner of one eye. She suddenly remembered Mu's blue eyes, the memory was so strong it was like she'd just seen them again. She held a hand to her eyes as she fought not to break down under the memory.

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"Who was that?" Rey asked, taking another bite of his hamburger. Noah glanced at him slightly askance... what sort of rustic came to Norman's Grill and ordered a plain hamburger with fries? Apparently the Rey Ze Burrel type. Though even a hamburger was likely a work of art if it was prepared in Norman's kitchen. Noah had had a table reserved around the clock ever since he'd first eaten here for his eigth birthday. He tried to drop by Norman's whenever he came to Aprilius One, but usually couldn't manage more than once a week. Ah, the privileges of being a member of a super wealthy family. His food was prepared by Norman himself, not any of the other chef's, and was hand delivered. He tried to keep his influencing of others in public to a minimum, but Noah delighted in having Norman come by at the EXACT time Noah needed refreshments or seconds, while service was always slightly later for anyone he was eating with. Just one tiny way of keeping the ruled seperate from the rulers.

"Just some woman who got lost." Gilbert replied, not taking his eyes or his mouth off the curry kabobs he'd ordered. He ate at Norman's every so often, but it was difficult to afford with his current salary, especially considering that he was no seeing Talia a lot more. He made a mental note to bring her here as soon as he was able. He was also eating fast because he wanted to get to the business part of the dinner Noah had invited him too. The little devil had promised a great deal of information that Durandal would need in order to ensure he won the next spot on the Supreme Council, and tonight was the night Noah had promised to pay up.

"Sexy voice though. Reminded me of someone, but I can't quite place it." Michael Genesis said, wiping away marinara sauce from his lips with his napkin. He was another rustic, in Noah's opinion... spagetti with meatballs? No taste at all.

"Past girlfriend, maybe?" Noah asked.

"Nah. I'd have remembered a woman with a hot voice like that, no doubts at all."

"Yes. Yes of course you would have." Noah agreed, biting into a dessert crepe to hide his smile.

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Kisaka and Waltfeld exchanged glances. Murrue had just sat down and smiled at them, then started crying. Really crying, not like stubbed her toe or sprained her wrist, but deep, chest wracking sobs of grief. "Ah... Murrue? Is something wrong?" Waltfeld asked, concerned.

"You seem very distraught. Its not something Andrew or I did, is it?" Kisaka asked, biting his lip slightly.

"No. No. Its not you two. You've been great. I could never have relaxed as much as I have if you two weren't here with me." Murrue replied. She hitched a few times. "And don't think I haven't noticed what you two have been up to either. I've never been so complimented and flattered in my life. Truly, I would be lucky to fall in love with a man half as good as either of you. But... but... it's just... still too soon. I'm sorry. Mu's... he's stilll..." Murrue broke off and stood up. "Excuse me. I need to visit the restroom and clean up. I'll be back shortly."

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"Truce then?" Waltfeld asked after Murrue was well out of earshot. He chugged his beer and signalled for another. The night had been going so good, too.

"Definite truce." Kisaka also slammed back the rest of his wine, and ordered a beer as well.

"We both lost to a dead man." Waltfeld observed.

"That's not a very sensitive way of looking at it." Kisaka replied. He still looked just as glum as Waltfeld felt. "If I could make her forget, I think I would. It's not healthy, living in the past. Mu la Flaga is dead. I liked the man too. But he's gone!"

"We could ask Lacus..."

"She would never do it. She'd probably wipe us instead, for even suggesting it." Kisaka took his beer from the waited and chugged it, waving for another. "I'm depressed."

"Me too."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to get hammered. I'll feel better tomorrow. Right now, I'm not emotionally capable of handling this."

"I'll join you. What about Murrue?"

"She still has some stuff she needs to work out with Mu. Two's company... but three..."

"Three is a crowd." Waltfeld agreed. "Keep them coming." He ordered the waiter, chugging his own fresh beer.

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Author Note: I did this one first, because it's the hardest for me. I don't do Murrue well in my opinion. But I hope I added some good depth. And I'm sure everyone really hates Noah now, if they didn't before. Which is good.


	95. Scars Don't Hurt

"So this is the fabled Joule family castle I've heard so much about." Katie commented, peering around the foyer. In truth she hadn't quite known what to expect... she'd overheard Lacus talk about her own home a couple times, and she'd assumed that Ysak also lived in a multi-acre estate on a lakeside, since he was aso the child of a supreme councilmember. Not quite the case as things turned out. It wasn't an apartment complex by any means, but the two story glass and stainless steel building nestled away in the woodland a few kilometers to the "East" of the main lift spine of Martius Three's second continent was far from the near palace she'd been expecting. There wasn't even a wall around the grounds, which mostly consisted of pine trees with a few small patches of lawn around the drive. The next closest house was a good fifty meters away, extremely far by PLANT standards, so she guessed that meant the property was pretty prime, in terms of real estate value. But it just looked like a house, like any of thousands she might find in Orb or anywhere else mildly affluent.

"You should know better than to listen to Dearka by now." Ysak replied, taking off his shoes and placing them by the doorway, then stepping up from the entrance area onto the polished hardwood floor of the combination foyer and entertaining room. "Shoes off in the house, please."

"Who said anything about Dearka?" Katie replied, slipping off her own shoes as she continued to look around. The decor was modern, with spotless whitewashed plaster walls, medium pile white carpets and dark brown hardwood flooring. All the furniture was black, either painted wood or leather, with polished steel edging. The walls were pierced by huge windows on almost all sides, allowing plenty of light into the room. A fewframed photographs cheered up the walls, mostly landscapes on the outer walls, with a collection of personal ones on the wall of a corridor headed deeper into the house. There was a black wooden bar with six barstools seperating the carpeted entertaining area from a small kitchen/minibar area. A large flat screen TV hung on nearly invisible wires in one corner of the entertaining room. It looked like a room in a show house... barely any wear and tear on it at all. Either the place was fanatically well maintained, or hardly lived in at all. Given that Ezalia was a single parent with no live in children who also worked an extremely busy and important job, Katie was pretty sure she knew which it was.

"No one else you know but him has ever been here." Ysak frowned. The house was exactly the way he remembered it. Home, sweet home. Good to find one thing that didn't change.

"It doesn't look at all like it did in your dreams." Katie answered offhand, wandering around, poking at this and that. She glanced at him and smiled wickedly. "You're such a romantic when you're sleeping."

"Just when I'm sleeping, huh." Ysak actually smiled back. Here, in his own house, he could actually relax some. Especially since his mother wasn't home yet, and probably wouldn't be until late that night. He'd called ahead and told her he was coming home, pretty much as soon as he got with comm range of the PLANTS, but she'd had an emergency council meeting to go to, so she couldn't meet him at the shuttle terminal. After thinking about it a while, he decided it might even be better this way. This way he could show Katie around the house with a degree of control, and they could figure out just how they were going to bring up some of the spiky issues they had to his mother while they were at it. "Guess I'm off to bed then, if I'm no good at romance anywhere else."

"Ooh, someone sounds ruffled." Katie returned, trailing her fingers along the wall as she studied one of the pictures framed upon it. "These are pretty good. Who took..." She was interrupted by Ysak coming up behind her and embracing her tightly. He tilted her head around and kissed her fiercely. "Mmm... did I touch a nerve...?" She asked when he backed off a bit.

"My mother won't be home for some time now. More than long enough for me to show you that I can be plenty romantic awake." Ysak gently pressed closer, backing her against the wall. He kissed her again. "My father took them." Kiss. "Back when..." Kiss. "... He was dating my mother." Kiss.

"My... someone has had their confidence boosted now that they're at home." Katie observed with a smile. _I like it. However..._ Katie took advantage of the slight reaction Ysak still had to being contacted mentally to slip from his grasp and turn it around on him, so that it was her pressing his back ever so gently to the wall. _You were taking it too slowly. Now the initiative is mine._ She cuddled up against him and allowed him to kiss her again as she toyed with the top button of his shirt. Just as he was bringing around his arms to lock her into an embrace that probably wouldn't have ended for at least an hour and would have put the entertaining room to a use it hadn't seen since Ezalia was single though, Katie pulled away with an impish smile. _We'll have plenty of time to do that. Lots of times. As much as we want. I don't think Ezalia will mind at all. But first, I want some more insight into you. Show me the house._

Ysak sighed, wiping a single bead of sweat from his forehead, giving her an exasperated look. "Tease." He accused, straightening his shirt a bit. "And you're unfortunately right... my mother won't mind us sleeping together at all. In fact, she'll probably be embarssingly encouraging about it. I've already resigned myself to dealing with you both. It was bad enough when I lived at home and she was always urging me to go out and socialize, always hinting that it was just fine to bring a girl back to the house now and again, to "study" like normal teenagers did. Now that I have you, who knows what's shes going to start giving me advice on now... I shudder to think at times."

_Methods maybe. Technique. Now stop procrastinating. The house. Show me the house. The longer you take showing me what I want to see, the less time we're going to have to break in your bed._

"I wish you wouldn't put it like that. And I will have to deafen myself if my mother starts telling me how to have sex."

_You're the one who pushed me up against the wall first, Ysak-y._

"You're the one who hinted I couldn't be romantic except when I was dreaming." Ysak retorted. "We'll start with the ground floor areas. By the way, have you put any thought into just how we're going to explain to my mother about the whole Newtype thing?"

_I figured we'd just up and tell her._

"How well did that work with me? My mother has a doctorate in aerospace engineering. She deals in facts that she can see, touch and hear. Newtype powers fall under zero of those categories. If she sees me walking around holding one sided conversations with myself, she's going to have me sent to a hospital for treatment."

_There are ways to prove it. You won't like them, but there are ways. I'll take charge of proving to your mother that I have mental powers. You just be you._

"Why am I suddenly nervous... every time someone is relying on me to react like I always do... that bothers me."

_Is that your dad?_ Katie gestured towards the first large photo on the hallway wall. It showed a much younger looking Ezalia Joule standing next to a tall, broadshouldered man who had short snow white hair and dazzeling blue eyes just like Ysak's. Ezalia held a small bundle in her arms that was just identifiable as a baby. _Cute kid. Where'd they lose it?_

"Hilarious." Ysak reached out slowly and just brushed the surface of the picture with his fingertips._ Hello father. Long time, no see._

"How did he die?" Katie asked suddenly, reverting to speech.

"Flight accident. He was working with my mother, same project. She did the theory and the politics side, he made the aircraft and did the actual testing. They were a good team. That's what everyone tells me anyway. He died only a week after he took this photo. He was a semi-professional photographer in his off time. I never knew him."

"You still miss him though."

"I don't think I've ever denied that. If nothing else, I wish he was around for my Mother's sake. She spends too much time at work. Maybe its hyopcritical for me, of all people, to say this, but she needs to work on her social life. I can see that now, now that I have you. Maybe it is too bad about Patrick Zala."

_What does Athrun's dad... oooh... your mom and Athrun's dad were attracted to each other? Wow. That woulda been something, for you to be related to Athrun._

"It would have been a nightmare, but if it made my mother happy, I could have borne it." Ysak abruptly turned away from the photo. The rest of the photos were of Ezalia and Ysak at various points in their life, from the point Ysak was just a baby to only a few days before he left for the Le Creuset team for the first time, resplendent in his brand new reds. Ysak looked over the photos critically, seeing in each a snapshot of what made him himself. The history of success and hidden pain that had led to Ysak Joule joining ZAFT and eventually treading the barbed path that led him back to here, this moment, contemplating it all.

"So that's what you look like without the scar." Katie observed, nodding at the picture of Ysak in his reds. "I like my version better." _Captain of the middle and high school lacrosse, tennis AND swim teams? No wonder you didn't have a social life. Valedictorian too. Your classmates must have hated you._

"I never let fun interfere with being the best, that is true. And I was the best too. At pretty much everything. Until I met Athrun."

_So THAT'S why you don't like him. Because he messes with your self confidence. Aww, don't be sad Ysak-y... I like you much better than I like him. Even if he is also a cute guy at times._

"If you're trying to make me jealous, it won't work. And no, I don't dislike Athrun because he's better at a very few, specialized things than I am... I dislike him because he does it all without seeming to try. He makes being successful look easy. Even natural. Everything he accomplishes or gains in life... it always seems close to perfect, from my perspective, and he doesn't even know how hard it is, or how lucky he is. That attitude of his is the reason I've only minimally been able to stand him from day one. I never even saw him struggle until Nicole died." Ysak clenched a fist in remembered agony. "His unflinching but misplaced trust in his ability to recruit Kira for our side also grated on my nerves, and perhaps directly led to Nicole's death... but thats a story for another time. Now, the house..."

The first floor of the Joule house consisted of the entrance foyer, the one car garage, the entertaining room/kitchen, a second kitchen/food storage area, a bathroom and a study that looked like it had been sealed up for a decade or more. The rooms were big, spacy and generally decorated much like the entertaining room, with large photographs framed on many walls. The study had several large bookshelves and a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of camera stuff, plus lots of mementos and other souveniers that Katie decided she and Ysak would have to spend some time going through later. Katie had no idea who her parents were, had no memories or photos of them at all. She wasn't going to let Ysak go on not knowing his father. It wasn't right.

The second floor of Ysak's house had the master bedroom and master bath, a second bathroom off the hallway, a guest bedroom that looked in similar shape to the study downstairs, a lounging room with another big TV and a computer system, plus several more worn and used looking couches, and two big storage rooms that were probably once guest bedrooms as well. And then the final chamber. That ultimate mystery. Ysak's room. His real room. The heart of every guy's psyche. And best of all, it was almost certain to be undisturbed. Virgin territory, quite literally. Everything was going to be just as it was when Ysak last left it. Katie was almost rubbing her hands together in glee as they approached the door. This was going to be a blast. She wiped away a single tear. Chanel would have loved this. She'd have to do extra good, for her sister's sake.

Ysak's room was nothing like the rest of the house. The rest of the house was open and well lit and airy and bright. Ysak's window had both blinds and heavy curtains, both shutting out all but a thin line of light. The walls were painted a more tan than white color, while the carpet was dark blue. The room itself was quite large, nearly as big as the master bedroom. The twin size bed was on the far side of the room from the doorway, right under the window, where the "dawn" light would splash directly into the sleepy eyes of someone who wanted to be woken up at a specific time by an automatic movement of the window drapes. There was a writing desk by the head of the bed, while a large dresser stood at the foot. When facing the bed the door off to the left led to the bathroom, which again was quite large and included a big marble tub/shower combo. The door to the right was a walk in closet, though it was mostly empty. To the right of the hallway door was a bigger desk with a computer system and comfortable chair. To the left of the hallway door was a multi-level shelf containing magazines, movie discs, books and a few keepsakes, plus a small minifridge. The whole room was tidy, though not obsessively so.

"Can I poke around and make comments?" Katie asked, standing in the middle of the room. Ysak sighed again and shrugged, going over to sit on his bed.

"Do what makes you happy." Ysak reclined on the bed and shut his eyes. Katie was more than aware that he opened them again and watched her move around the moment she turned her back. Ysak and his silly little games... he still hadn't learned what it meant to be two intimately connected Newtypes. Even Kira was more in tune with it than Ysak. Of course that very resistance was quite entertaining itself.

"You value order and quality in your things. I haven't been in many guy rooms, I'll admit, but compared to what you see in movies this doesn't look like a teenager's room. No band posters or anything on the walls except for personal awards and trophies. Some might see that as narcissism, but you see it as motivation to always keep your high standards. Your computer is password protected, even in a room that no one but you goes into. That combined with the darkness and relative isolation of the room... you really value privacy. Hmm... not much in the way of movie selection... you have a few favorites and you watch them again and again. Same thing for books. A little more variety in magazines, but you only keep the issues that deal with items of particular interest to you."

"You haven't said anything startling yet." Ysak sounded mildly surprised.

"They say a guy's room shows you the inner workings of his mind and personality." Katie answered. _Don't you think I might already know those pretty well?_

"Point." Ysak stared up at the ceiling. "So what are you looking for then?"

"Anything odd. Something to talk about. An embarassing secret perhaps. And even if I can read your mind, love, that doesn't mean I don't enjoy just looking. Touching what you touched... living your life just so ever briefly by proxy. Something like this. This camera. Its one of the old exposed film types. No one but serious photographers use these anymore. Nothing else in the room suggests an interest in photography... why this expensive and rare camera?"

"You did find something embarassing." Ysak rolled over to face the wall. "I don't particularly want to talk about it."

"I can keep looking for where you stashed your porn, and we can talk about that if you'd prefer?"

"I used it when I was younger." Ysak said slowly. "I used to think, when I was little, that by looking at things through my father's camera, I could see things the way he saw them. That I could see what he'd seen. Even that if I looked hard enough, at the right things, I could see him looking back at me." There was a dead silence. "Something wrong?"

"That is probably the cutest, most beautiful thing I've ever heard you say." Katie brushed a pair of tears out of her eyes as she choked up a little. She came over to the bed, still clutching the camera. "Will... would... please... could you look at me through the camera, Ysak?"

"Huh? It's just a 35mm camera. I haven't looked through that thing in years." Ysak rolled back over and saw the look on her face. "Hand it over." He took the camera and made a few adjustments, surprised that his hands still remembered what to do. He stood up off the bed and looked around the room briefly, making sure the focus was working properly. Meanwhile Katie clambered onto the bad and laid down where he'd been. "This better not have been a ploy to get me to give you my spot on the bed." He scolded her.

_What do you see when you look at me through that lens, Ysak?_ Katie's mental voice was as serious as he'd ever heard it.

"Hmm... not quite the best angle." Ysak decided, standing by the side of the bed. He too climbed onto the bed and knelt straddling her. "Better." He held the camera to his face and looked down at her. There was pause of several seconds. _I see a vulnerable girl who finally feels totally safe and happy. Someone who suffered so much and worried they'd never be able to be truly happy because of how different she is, but has been pleasantly surprised to be wrong. I see a person that means as much to me as my own life, if not more so. I see one of the only people to truly understand the real me, a person who actually helped ME see the real me. I see the missing half of my own soul, removed from my chest and given form and phsyicality._

"Flatterer." Katie smiled, not bothering to brush away a few more tears. She reached up and grabbed hold of his shirt, pulling him down so that he was forced to support himself with his free hand over her. "What do you see now?"

_I see soft hair and smooth skin. I see darkness cuddling light and two sapphire stars glowing in the center. I see nose and ears and lips which I long to kiss. Delicate curve of throat, leading to the rest of a body I could hardly have ever dreamed existed and wouldn't believe in if I wasn't touching it. I see a heart that beats in time with my own. I see understanding, and love and faith. I see everything that makes life worth living, that makes waking up one more time always worth it, no matter how dark or grim the days get. I see the reason why I exist. I... I see... how my... father... sees my mother... and how she... looks back..._ Katie wasn't the only one crying at this point in time. Ysak gently lowered the camera away onto the floor. "I see Katie Belaruse, the love of my life." Ysak said softly, leaning down to cover her mouth with his.

------------------------------

"Ysak. Ysak! Ysak, wake up! Your mom is home! A car just pulled into the garage." Katie's voice drifted through the warm haze Ysak was floating in. He rolled over and adjusted the comforter to best preserve the warmth remaining in the bed. _Ysak, if you don't get up right this moment, I swear to god I'll go down there in my panties and bra and let your mom make her own mind up._

"I'm up!" Ysak sat up, rubbing away the last of the pleasant half dreams with the back of one hand. _That felt really good. One more thing to be glad of._ He slid out of bed and began putting his own clothes back on. "Hard to believe it's that late already."

"Time flies when you're having fun. Or recovering from having fun." Katie pulled on her shirt and pants. "You make a very warm bed, by the way."

"And you have extremities formed from pure glacial ice, or it feels like it sometimes." Ysak groused. _I can't believe I just made love with a beautiful girl in my own bed. This isn't a dream is it? I am really Ysak Joule, elite ace and soldier, right?_

_Not unless we're in the same dream, Ysak-y. Me, I can't believe I just made love with a beautiful guy in my own bed._

_That was a private thought. And its not your bed._

_Silly, you don't HAVE any private thoughts, save the ones you don't know you're thinking. As for the bed... we'll see._ Katie waited impatiently, tapping her foot for effect, as Ysak finished buttoning up his shirt and zipping his pants. _That isn't really necessary, is it? This is your mother. The only one who's seen you naked more often than me._

Ysak gave her a cold look that was better than a thousand words and finished getting dressed at his own pace. He then led the way downstairs, where his mother was just finishing taking off her shoes and hanging up her coat. She looked up as soon as he reached the top of the stairs... hearing was as keen as ever, despite how tired she looked. "Mother..."

"Hello, Ysak. It's good to see you again. I'm afraid you'll have to come down here if you want a hug, I'm feeling a bit too worn to want to climb the stairs and then descend them again." His mother said with a slight smile.

Ysak scowled, especially because he could hear Katie sniggering behind his back. Nonetheless, he did go down the stairs and gave his mother a tight hug. "Back together sooner than I expected." He commented.

"I saw what happened to the Archangel on the news. It looked like a pretty rough fight. The kind people do real good just to survive." Ezalia replied. She looked up at the girl still standing somewhat shyly at the top of the stairs. "Come on down, dear. Katie, right?" Ezalia released Ysak and moved into the entertainment room. "Don't mind me, I'll do what I can to stay out of your way. The last thing I wanted when I was your age was my parents cluttering up the house." She turned and arranged a few things on the bar top. "You do look a little rumpled, Ysak. Have you been waiting long?"

"We found a way to pass the time." Katie replied helpfully, with a big smile. Ezalia smiled back, and Ysak blushed furiously

"I'll bet." Ezalia quickly fixed herself a pretty strong drink. "You two look like you have something on your minds? You don't need to worry about... noise. My room is sufficiently far removed from yours I won't hear a thing unless you're burning the house down."

"Mother!" Ysak protested, even as Katie burst into a fit of giggles.

"Thanks for that information, Ezalia, but we actually did have something serious to discuss with you. And its not related to sex, which means Ysak will eventually stop blushing." Katie answered.

"He's cute when he's embarassed though." Ezalia commented, taking her drink and sitting down near a low table in the entertainment room.

"You're right about that." Katie agreed, leading Ysak over to sit opposite Ezalia.

"I'm... not quite sure how to say this... mother." Ysak began, hesitant.

"Ezalia, I am an Active Newtype. Do you have any idea what that means?" Katie said calmly and slowly. Ezalia took a sip of her drink and looked thoughtful.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. But I imagine you can explain?"

"Keep an open mind please and thats not a pun. Newtypes are genetic mutants. Our mutation is extremely rare, as it affects the way our brains work. We utilize sections of the brains ordinary humans can only briefly touch using their unconscious or subconscious minds. In simple terms, we can use a variety of mental abilities that ordinary humans, Natural or Coordinator, cannot."

"Like a psychic?"

"In some cases yes, though most psychics are entirely spurious and false. But the concept is generally correct. I myself am a tele-empathic projector/resonater. What this means is that, while my sister was alive, I could communicate via thoughts and emotions with her across nearly any distance, regardless of what barriers were between us. Now that Chanel is dead... a story we will get to eventually... I have began forming a similar bond with dear Ysak. Normally this would not be possible, because up until a short time ago, Ysak was like ninety nine point nine repeating percent of humanity. He was like you, Ezalia. Namely, a Stump. Newtype slang for a normal, non-Newtype, who are generally near impossible to affect with Newtype powers. However, due to circumstances created by my sister shortly before her death, Ysak has become a Newtype. What we Actives call a Latent Newtype, because they have no self directed, conscious power of their own... they are however extremely suceptible to the powers of an Active."

"This sounds a little complex for a joke."

"It is just about the most serious thing I will ever talk with you about. I know you are sceptical. If I didn't live it, I wouldn't believe it. And because you are a Stump, I can't contact you directly, like I can with Ysak. However, I do have a way to prove to you that this is true. However, it won't be particularly pleasant for Ysak. It won't hurt him, but he's likely to be embarassed quite badly."

"Well, if Ysak agrees I'll give it a shot. If nothing else, this makes a pleasant change of pace from talking politics."

"I wish I could just show you that its true mother... its been a struggle for me to accept it... but its true. I need you to believe and understand this. I agree. I can take a little embarassment."

"All right. Ezalia, I need you to think of questions. Stuff about Ysak only you and he would know. Stuff he might not want me to know about. Stuff he would NEVER tell anyone else, no matter how much he liked them. After you think of them, please ask them. Ysak won't answer of course, but he will think of the answer, or remember something about it, even if he doesn't know that he remembers. With my abilities I will answer your questions correctly. Does that sound to you like a workable idea?"

"We'll give it a shot." Ezalia said, her gaze piercing. _This sure doesn't sound like some joke or make believe story._ "When did Ysak first start masturbating and what was he reading when I caught him?"

"WHAT!?" Ysak jerked, blush reheating his face.

"It was three months, twelve days and six hours past his fourteenth birthday. He was reading a torrid romance novel, "Skin of Desire" that he stole from your bedroom."

"What was the name of his imaginary friend, and at what age did he stop believing in him?"

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Ysak was almost twitching from embarassment.

"Him was a she, and she was named Mary-Lynn. And he ditched that rather troubling fantasy shortly after he turned ten, after other kids started making fun of him for it."

"If Ysak had been a girl, what would we have named him? I also called him this when he was a toddler, because it irritated him so much it was just too precious to pass up."

"NO! DAMN IT, THIS IS BEYOND THE SCOPE OF WHAT I AGREED TO!"

"Jamie? Thats a cool name. Ysak, if we have a daughter, her name is going to be Jamie, okay?"

"This is amazing." Ezalia shook her head. "How long did I breast feed Ysak for?"

"There's no way she can answer that... my earliest memories go back to when I was two!" Ysak protested, suddenly calmer with concern.

"For three weeks after you got home from the hospital, until you got tired of waking up at all hours of the night to feed him, after which you switched to formula so your husband could shoulder some of the burden." Katie cut him off with a stern look. She noticed his gape jawed look. "The subconscious has a lot more memories in it than you'd think. It records pretty much everything, its just retrieving the recording that gets harder with time."

"Okay, I'm pretty much convinced, because like Ysak said, there was no way he could have possibly remembered that." Ezalia said slowly. "Here's the clincher though. What was his father's name?"

"Ikarus? That's an odd name, no offense." Katie stopped when she saw the moisture in Ezalia's eyes. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of..."

"No, its fine. Ysak knows I always get a tear in my eyes whenever my husband's name comes up. Much as he hates to be embarassed himself, he hates it even more if I get embarassed. He made me a solemn promise that he'd never tell anyone his father's full name unless I told them first. My dear Ika, who ended up flying just a little too close to the sun and burned his precious wings off..." Ezalia dropped her gaze for a few moments. "So why did you illuminate this truth for me? Surely it would be easy to hide, because no one would ever believe its possible?"

"Some people know. I lived in a research facility as a test subject for Newtype studies for most of my life. I was an experimental animal. Thats how Newtypes are viewed by the few authority figures that know of us. If they could, they would take Ysak for study for the rest of his life. If they ever find out about him. And the thing is, we don't know who they are. That's one reason... you have a right to know that your son might be hunted. Another is that Ysak and I are in constant mental contact. I talk to him as much if not more inside his head than I do with my voice. And he's still not very good at talking back inside his head without also talking out loud."

"So if you're not around and he suddenly starts having a conversation, its not because he's crazy?"

"Even if I am around. And thats about the gist of it. Oh, yes. Lacus Clyne is an Active Newtype as well. A very powerful one, if only in surges. And Kira Yamato is a Latent like Ysak." _I still can't get over the shivers when I think about what she did when Sai put that gun to Kira's head. I know I told her not to worry about getting mad... I was wrong. She does need to keep herself in check._

"I agree. I'm not scared of much, but I will never again directly threaten Kira in earnest while she's around. She could have crushed my sanity like a bug. She was controlling three Stumps at once, from more than ten miles away..."

_See. That wasn't so bad. Of course, we could also have just sent me outside for a few hundred meters, then had you and your mom talk about some stuff after making sure there were no listening devices present, then had me come back and tell you about it... but I like my way better. I got to learn all sorts of interesting stuff I never would have thought to look for otherwise. Hard to believe that only words could get you off... considering what it takes now..._

"You mean that we could have done this WITHOUT embarassing me? Why would you want to know those things!?"

_Because now if you ever start getting uppity, I can sell them to Dearka and Athrun. And make a huge profit on the side, which is an added bonus._

"That is blackmail at its WORST! If... IF... you ever mention ANYTHING to Dearka or Athrun, they'll have to lock me up! Because I'll kill them before they can spread a WORD!"

"I see what you mean. This would have been pretty disturbing to me five minutes ago." Ezalia commented. A thoughtful look crossed her face. "Say... you are in his head all the time? Does that mean you can feel it when he's getting horny? That's a tremendous advantage."

"**MOTHER!"**

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm surprised you managed to get Ysak to let us go shopping together so easily. After that first night, I would have thought he would be violently opposed to you and I spending any time together without him around to supervise." Katie commented as Ezalia's car pulled into a reserved parking spot at a nearby mall. That was one of the nice things about the PLANTS... almost everything you could usually think of was "nearby", not usually more than a ten minute drive, or a thirty minute tranist through the lift spine to the other continent. Shuttles to other PLANTS in the same city left every thirty minutes and shuttles to the other cities left every hour. A very organized and almost completely automated mass transit system far superior to anything on Earth. It took some getting used to, accepting that all the vehicles were automated, especially for someone used to driving with Alkire, but it certainly made having conversations easier if one of them didn't always have to be concentrating on the road.

"I'm his mother. Just about the only thing about him I cannot unduly influence is his sex life and I could probably make a good go at that too, if the inclination struck me." Ezalia turned off the car. She rarely used the reserved spot for PLANT government officials, but she and Katie only had until lunch, so she didn't want to waste any time with the car driving around looking for a parking spot. "And it's "only" five hours. And how much more embarassed can he get, after the topics we discussed that first night?"

"Ah, so you used deceptive logic and took advantage of his relative lack of experience with women, I see." Katie replied with a grin. "Dear Ysak-y has little clue just what sort of damaging topics his lover and mother can reach in as much as five full hours of shopping time."

"Indeed. He's used to me speed shopping, because that is how I usually do it when he is around because of all the tedious but important meetings I have to go to being a Supreme Councilmember. However, after the emergency meeting on that first night we all agreed to a few days off, except in the case of another emergency of course. And of course, I have a woman friend to shop with too, which helps."

"Hmm, there's one difference from Earth. On Earth anyone less than twenty is usually a "girl", not a woman." Katie observed, climbing out of the car to join Ezalia as she headed for the closest mall entrance.

"You took my boy's virginity?" Ezalia asked.

"Well, it was something of a mutual thing..."

"Have you killed people in self defence or to defend others?"

"Yes."

"You're more a woman than most." Ezalia said firmly. "Also, due to the relatively greater learning capacity of Coordinators, we generally consider people "mature" at the age of fifteen, which is the age when the parents cease having total legal control over their child... similar to the 18 year limit on Earth. Technically Ysak is his own man, and nothing I say or do can officially be applied to him. Of course he lives with me anyway, as do many PLANT children with their parents, because even if a Coordinator is physically, legally and intellectually mature at fifteen years, emotional maturity tends to take a bit more time. That's why the drinking age is eighteen, for instance, even though drunk driving accidents are almost totally impossible. Not that any self respecting teenager allows that law to apply to them any more than absolutely necessary."

"So where do we go first? You're the expert here." Katie glanced around idly... it looked just like the malls in Orb, if slightly more space constrained. She acquired a brief faraway look in her eyes that Ezalia could not help but notice.

"Ysak have something to say?"

"Ysak-y just wanted to stress that even if we do buy him some outlandish clothing, he's under no obligation to actually wear it. He's letting some the irritation of sorting through the thousands of emails he has built up on his account bleed over... he's going to be prickly in a few hours."

"That power would be a godsend at times, I'd imagine. Goodness knows, I know many women who would trade an arm to be able to be attuned to the emotional state of their man at all times." _I might even be one of them._

"It has its ups and downs. It requires a lot of trust between Ysak-y and me. Especially with him in regard to me using my powers on him. And somewhat vice versa as well... mentally sensed emotions are raw things, uncluttered with the added meanings and shadings words apply to them. They can be overwhelming if you don't take them with a grain of salt... if Ysak-y was angry I wouldn't be able to tell why, or even how angry, unless I looked at some of his other emotions. And if he focused on his anger, he could blot out pretty much everything else. His emotions can even affect mine, if he's feeling them strongly enough and I don't concentrate on blocking them. That's one reason why when he gets horny, so do I, generally."

"I can see how that might be inconvenient, given how fixated men are on sex." Ezalia snorted. "We'll do some shopping for ourselves first, then we'll hit some stores for Ysak before we go meet him."

"Sounds good to me. And he's not so much fixated as just very curious. It's very cute at times... girls are still magical and wonderful beings to him. He doesn't see me just as a lover and friend, but as something of a mother figure, in some ways. And for which impression I can never thank you enough, because it helps so much with fortifying the trust between us. Because of you Ysak-y almost worships women, as long as they treat him with respect and kindness... more parent's should try and instill that manner of thinking into their sons."

"Ysak-y is your lovers name for him? You use it quite often." Ezalia studied a skirt made from polyfiber faux silk, it was soft as cream to the touch, but the color was off. Red wasn't her thing.

"It's something my sister came up with. We never would have used it, except it obviously chipped at his shell so much it was just too funny. I am so going to call him Jamie when we get back together with the rest of the Clyne Faction, just to see him twitch and try and explain it to our friends. But yes, it is my term of endearment for him."

"Does he have one for you?"

"Besides "omigod", I don't think so." Katie replied and they shared a chuckle. They spent most of the remainder of the morning poking through various department stores and specialty outlets. Most of the brand names were new to Katie, as they were almost all PLANT made products, but name didn't change quality... most of the products were superior to anything you could find on Earth, and cheaper too, in most cases. Ezalia had initially offered to pay for Katie's purchases, until Katie pulled almost ten thousand plant dollars in one hundred dollar bills out of her purse and explained that she had a "rich guardian" who provided for her. When Ezalia offered to hold the money for her, for safekeeping, only half jokingly, Katie politely refused.

"You sure? That's a lot of money. Purse snatching almost never happens on the PLANTS, but that clerk had a shifty look in his eyes. Targting a random woman on the street is a whole different kettle of fish from targeting a PLANT Supreme Councilwoman."

"Ezalia, no offense, but I pity the poor purse snatcher who tries to mess with me. I hold black belt level certifications in four different styles of martial arts, as well as the equivalent qualification in the free form style used by EFSOU agents to kill or disable foes in combat situations. If you put a pistol in my hands, I can hit a two inch target nine times in ten from sixty feet away with a one hand stance. I shoot better than your son does, and I can usually give him a run for his money on the fighting mat, even if his win ratio has been climbing of late. I know how long it takes to strangle a man to death using either standard suffocation or blood starvation stranglehold techniques. Not only that, but though I cannot influence Stumps, I am still aware of their minds and vaguely what they are feeling, and even while I'm talking with you, my perceptions are sweeping about a twenty meter radius, just to be safe."

"You had... a troubled upbringing, didn't you?"

"I lived most of my life as a lab rat, denied even the right to speak verbally. People tell me I'm actually reasonably well adjusted for coming from that sort of background." Katie walked a few steps more. "But enough about me... what about you?"

"I'm an over-worked politician single mom with incredible academic qualifications and next to no social life. I try not to focus on that, or else I get slightly depressed."

"No boyfriends at all since your husband died?"

"Nothing more serious than few one night stands when the need grew unbearable. Ysak doesn't know about those though. There was one man... but he died before anything could come of it."

"Just haven't been looking or is it something else? You appear to be an attractive, hard working and successful woman with a strong independent streak... I would have thought that men would be lining up at your door."

"I'm afraid it's probably my fault. After Ika passed away in that testing accident, I left the academics behind and threw myself into my political career. I focused on it so much that it kept everyone else at arms length... even Ysak at times. I acquired something of a reputation for being a cold hearted, career oriented bitch. That's stuck with me ever since, and it still severely curtails my social life. I've grown used to it, or I had, until you and Ysak showed up. Seeing you two together... well, maybe I can turn things around too, you know?"

"I know some cute single older men. Maybe I can introduce them to you?" _Kisaka and Waltfeld won't mind a little matchmaking, especially since pining after Murrue won't get them squat right now. Course, Ysak-y will have an annuerism either way, but his mom needs help. He'll understand eventually. Victor would have been a good choice too... but..._

"I don't think I'd turn down any help at this stage." Ezalia blinked and looked around. "Uh oh... look where our footsteps have unconsciously taken us. We're in THAT section."

Katie looked around too, and despite herself felt a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. The lingerie section. She and Chanel had always joked about shopping in there, but there'd never been any reason to until after they'd met Ysak, and then there was usually no time. "Heh, heh, imagine that. We must be two dirty minded women."

"I'm almost afraid to ask... but does Ysak...?"

"Of course he does. He's actually rather fond of playing dress up."

"That is actually a little too much information, even for me." Ezalia shook her head, stifling laughter. She walked over to a rack of articles. "Something like this, maybe?"

"No. Good material, good pattern... but the color is all wrong. He won't have anything to do with red. Red is Athrun's color and he refuses to be like Athrun. He tries so hard to not be like Athrun he can't even see how similar they are." Katie thought for a moment. "Just about the only red thing he ever wears is his uniform, and he doesn't really have much choice there."

"So he still gets along with the people from his old team, eh? He used to complain about them all so much in his letters. It was clear he valued them all greatly."

"Gets along might be putting too strong a term on it." Katie browsed through a rack herself, though she was shopping for Ezalia, not herself. "He and Dearka are best pals, that I don't doubt... but Athrun is more like a measuring stick. Ysak-y's so damn good at everything he does, he can't even figure out how successful he is unless he looks at how good Athrun is doing. Hmm... this look like it might fit you?"

"Black? Black is too dark. I once had a boyfriend in high school tell me that I had the perfect body to be a dominatrix... course I dumped the creepy bastard shortly thereafter, but I've had an aversion to black things from then on." Ezalia mock shuddered. "Ysak is like his father in that regard... Ika could never stop measuring himself against the other leaders in our field. No matter how brilliantly he did, he was always consumed with the need to do better, to prove again that he was the best. It was that pride that led to his accident, or so I believe. It was my job to be the brake on his enthusiasm and competetive nature, to tell him when enough was enough... but I failed him. I got caught up in his excitement, in his pride. And he died, when he would have lived if we hadn't been in such a rush to be the first to reach that next new goal." Ezalia brooded for a moment. "Don't ever fail Ysak like I failed Ika, I beg you."

"It's not easy... he just can't stand to be second best. Kira doesn't make it any easier, though its nearly impossible to hate Kira." Katie mused, browsing some more. "Piloting mobile suits well is one of the things that always makes Ysak-y happy, in my experience. He's really, really good at it and he works hard to be better at it all the time. But Kira... Kira is just better. Bald faced fact, Kira is better. Almost always has been, always will be. Which is ironic of course since Kira loathes mobile suits and fighting. No matter how hard Ysak-y tries to beat Kira, its just not going to happen in this world. And I think he already knows that, he just won't accept it. In truth I don't know how to tell him, to show him that he doesn't HAVE to beat Kira or Athrun. That there are so many people that love him just because he tries. Just because he is Ysak."

"Give him something that he can be the best at. Something he has to work his ass off for, but that once he achieves he will be entirely sure he is the only person who could ever have accomplished it. Give him a seemingly impossible goal, one even more intriguing than the desire to beat Kira and Athrun." Ezalia replied. "With Ika, the goal I used was being a father to my child. But I dropped the ball. After Ysak was born I didn't force Ika to share in taking care of things with Ysak. I kept my precious baby to myself while Ika continued to work on the last stages of the project. A less extreme method was letting him indulge in his hobby. Ika loved photography, but it was a non-competitive love. He didn't feel driven to be the best of all... just as good as he could be."

"Well, despite my teasing, I'm not ready to have children with Ysak yet. Eventually, certainly. But we have lots of time. Though I must say, your son is an absolutely incredible lover. Not that I have any prior experience... but..."

"He's a Joule. Pure energy, those men are." Ezalia said with a wicked smile.

"That's good advice about finding him a nondestructive hobby though. I'll have to think about that. Thank you."

"You're welcome... oh my, look at how time has flown. We need to get going, or we won't have time to shop for him and still meet Ysak on time. And as I'm sure you know, he HATES waiting."

-----------------------------------------

"So what are we going to do today, Ysak-y?" Katie sat on the edge of the bed and kicked her legs idly. Ysak had his back turned to her, and he had to fight to keep it that way, because she wasn't wearing anything. He was damn glad his door was shut... bad enough that his mother and Katie got on so well together that at times it felt like they were teaming up against him, he didn't need to throw fuel on the fire by letting Katie display herself. She knew it drove him to distraction, which was of course one reason why she did it. Others being that she really didn't see what was so special about clothes, besides the handy pockets, a consequence of her early years in the labs. It was a mannerism many guys Ysak knew of would be happy to take advantage of, but he was most assuredly NOT that sort of guy. He finished getting dressed and turned around. "You sure are dressed up all nice." Katie observed.

"I'd like you to be, as well, please." Ysak looked at her. He didn't stare, didn't let his eyes wander like they wanted to. God but she was beautiful. But that was what the "night" time was for, though there was no actual night on the PLANTS, which were illuminated twenty four hours a day. "We're going someplace special today and you can't go like that. Even jeans and t shirt would be disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? Where are we going?" Katie hopped off the bed and began getting changed into a semi-formal blue and silver dress she'd bought on the shopping trip with Ezalia a few days prior.

"To say hello to a few people I haven't seen in too long a time." Ysak concentrated on keeping his mental shields up. Not only were the emotions he was feeling somewhat painful and thus not ones he wanted to share, he always wanted to surprise Katie. It happened infrequently enough as it was. "Good friends of mine."

"These must be really important friends, if you need to get dressed up to see them." Katie commented. She knew Ysak was hiding something from her... his stronger than usual mental shielding was a sure red flag for that. But it wasn't malicious... not that it ever was. He just wanted to surprise her, so she decided to let him.

"All my friends are important." Ysak answered, which was both cryptic and surprisingly frank, coming from Ysak. "When you're done getting ready I'll be downstairs. It's going to be a bit of a trip... they're on Junius Twelve."

"Junius Twelve?" Katie asked, but Ysak was already shutting the door behind him. "Be that way then. But who is he talking about... I know all his friends..." Ysak refused to enlighten her during the trip, no matter how much she prodded and wheedled and needled. "Good friends" was all he would say, and perhaps sigh a little. It was driving her batty, but she refused to just pry the info out of his mind, which she could do even through the shields he fondly imagined kept his mind seperate from hers. The shields might keep out a unpractised or weak Newtype, but Katie was neither, for her the presence of the shields was more like a "do not disturb" sign hung on a door. The suspense was getting to her, but she would NEVER disrespect Ysak by forcing her way into his mind, unless absolutely necessary. That whole trust thing she'd talked with Ezalia about. It didn't matter what she COULD do to Ysak, she WOULDN'T do anything unless it was needed to save his or her life.

By the time they were on the last leg of the trip, aboard a surprisingly empty auto-bus, Katie was fidgeting with pent up energy. She looked around the countryside they were traveling through. Unlike the other PLANTS, the Junius city was mostly open plains and a few rolling hills, the better to provide space to cultivate food products. There were few buildings, mostly silos and packaging plants clustered by the lift spine, plus the odd maintenance shed or farmer's estate. There were no poor farmers in the PLANTS, where local produce was at a premium... if you owned farm land then you were almost assured to be well off. Suddenly she started seeing trees. Not a forest, but a regular, obviously artificial plantation, forming one wall of a square that looked to be at least a kilometer long. The auto-bus coasted to a stop in front of a nondescript building, little more than a couple of cubes connected by covered walkways. A large obelisk stood outside one of the cubes.

"Junius War Memorial no. 3?" Katie read the inscribed letters on the obelisk. "So these friends..."

"Weren't as fortunate as I have been." Ysak replied. He briefly entered the cube shaped building and returned a few minutes later with several bouquets of white roses. "It's a bit of a walk, but it gives me time to talk. This way." Ysak led her onto a paved walkway that twisted around through the ceremonial row of trees before heading out into the cleared field, which was divided into hundreds of neat rows of memorial markers made from white stone. Each marker was slightly more than a meter tall and about two thirds of a meter wide. There were eight hundred per row, and there were two hundred rows. "Almost none of these people are actually buried here. Most either did not leave bodies, or are unrecovered on Junius Seven or various battlefields. For the remainder, tradition on the PLANTS is to return physical remains to the environment, typically by breaking them down into fertilizer for the farms. On Earth that might seem a little ghoulish, but Earthlings have plenty of space and resoures to waste... we don't. The headstones are recycled from spoil taken from our asteroid mining operations, with almost every last molecule of industrial useful minerals squeezed out of them. They look pretty but they're even more worthless than plain cement, in terms of cost to make."

Katie looked around, noticing several other groups of people wandering the rows, placing mementos or saying prayers. An automated janitorial machine worked on the row above theirs, methodically washing down each stone in turn and collecting mementos by tossing them into a pannier on its back. Ysak noticed the look on her face. "It is the act of coming here and leaving the flowers in the first place that matters. The dead have no use for flowers. Once the mourner leaves, it is their memory of the act that is important. And the flowers are recycled as well, going back into our soil once more, where they serve a more useful purpose. Economy and efficiency aren't bywords in the PLANTS... they're a foundation for almost every aspect of our life. The PLANTS may look like little slices of heaven, but keeping them that way is neither easy nor free of sacrifice."

"We'll be visiting Miguel Aiman first. He died during the ZAFT infiltration of Heliopolis, during our covert mission to steal the rumored Alliance G-weapons, what we now call Gundams. If it hadn't been for that damn kid... by whom I mean Kira... everything would have gone without a hitch. We infilitrated the colony, planted our bombs and hijacked the Gundams like clockwork. It went so smooth even Alkire would have been impressed. Except for one hitch. There were five of us assigned to hijack the Gundams, but the fifth was shot before he could accomplish his mission. Kira and Captain Ramius boarded that machine, the Strike and kept it out of our hands. Miguel was there with his GINN, providing fire support and cover for us. He told us to go, and promised to capture the Gundam himself. Why would we doubt him... a Coordinator vs some stupid Natural who could barely even walk in the machine?" Ysak explained as they walked.

"Of course we didn't know about Kira. Even Kira didn't know about Kira, then. But he fought back. And Miguel was outmaneuvered and killed, sliced in half. This was of course WAY before Kira started his high and mighty crusade about not killing people... for which I have my life, spared twice over, to thank. Back then it was a crushing blow to my world. Miguel was a senior pilot, a war hero. He was a mentor to all of us on the le Creuset team, except for Commander le Creuset himself, of course. He was like the bigger brother I never had. I looked up to him more than I had to just about anyone else outside my family. It was seeking revenge for his "murder" that earned me this scar across my face." Ysak stopped in front of a specific headstone without even glancing at it. Clearly this was a practised event. Ysak faced the headstone and bowed his head for a moment of silence, before kneeling and gently placing one bouquet of flowers in front of the stone.

"I try and come here about twice a month if I can. Not only to visit my friends, but to experience the whole place. Many of these headstones are for civilians, innocent men, women and children who died during the Bloody Valentine attack. People who never did a thing to harm anyone, in most cases, all wiped out without warning or mercy. Back when I was in the le Creuset team, I always came away from here filled with righteous anger and hate for the Natural scum that could casually nuke a defenseless agricultural colony without warning. Now... well I still hate the people that nuked Junius Seven. I don't think that'll ever change. But I don't hate all Naturals anymore. And the anger has changed to determination. Determination to create a peaceful world that all of these poor people deserved to have been able to live in."

Ysak stood again and headed off without a single backwards glance at Miguel's memorial marker. Excess sentimentality was not something he indulged in often. "The other person we're going to visit today is Nicole Amafi. He was also a member of the le Creuset team, a member of the same class of ZAFT graduates that Athrun, Dearka and I came from. He was also a redcoat, though he squeaked in by a narrower margin than most. I'm not proud of it now, but back then I always looked down on him. He never should have joined the military, he wasn't suited for it at all. The idea of him fighting a serious fight was almost as ludicrous as imagining Athrun's then fiance Lacus suddenly deciding to enlist. He was a pacifist and a conciliator, always talking about negotiation and finding a mutual compromise to end the war. He and Kira would have gotten along together great. It was just too bad they had to be enemies." Ysak sounded more than a little bitter.

"Dearka and I picked on Nicole all the time, both in battle and out of it. We always called him a coward, because he preferred to fight with stealth and indirect guile... minimum effort applied to get the same results as Dearka and I got with our posturing and showboating. Athrun usually tried to protect him, with mixed results. If I could change only one thing about the way I acted before the battle of Jachin Due, I'd go back and slap myself into showing Nicole a few grains of respect. He practically disabled Artemis base singlehandedly, something an entire fleet of people like me could never have done. But I just sneered and continued to belittle him. I can only marvel now that he didn't develop a psychological disorder from all the crap Dearka and I put him through. Whenever I had a bad day, I always cheered myself up by making a worse day for him. Damn it, but I was such a bastard!" Ysak clenched his fists for a few moments as he walked.

"Kira also killed Nicole. Looking back on it, it was clear self defense... though half disabled, the Blitz was still a credible threat and Kira responded with the action any sane pilot would have chosen... he killed the threat. At the time though, it was like the end of the world to Dearka, Athrun and myself. Nicole may have been our scapegoat, the little brother we beat up to make ourselves feel better... but damn it he was OURS! It was only then, after he was dead, that I realized how much he added to our team. Dearka and I were the muscle, Athrun was the brain... but Nicole... Nicole was the life." Ysak flicked a tear off his cheek as his voice grew hoarse a moment. "He was a semi-professional musician, one of the best piano player's I've ever heard. If he'd lived he probably would have been world famous by now. But he loved us all, even if we didn't show him any damn respect. He sacrificed himself to save Athrun without a moment's hesitation, and I know he would have done the same for me or Dearka if we'd been the ones in trouble. That's just how Nicole was."

Ysak stopped in front of a memorial headstone at last. Again he bowed his head in silence and then knelt to deposit the flowers. "Thinking about how Nicole would despise what the world has become these days is one of the primary reasons I will never accept Sai's Isolation Plan." Ysak said, rising to his feet. Katie noticed he still had one bouquet of flowers.

"Is there someone else?" She asked, her first comment since they started walking amongst the headstones. This was Ysak's place, not hers... she felt privileged to even be here at all... this was obviously a very private thing for Ysak, a glimpse at some of his innermost motivations. The fact that she was probably among the very first Naturals to ever visit this memorial wasn't lost on her either. She'd had nothing to do with the Bloody Valentine tragedy or the first war... but she still felt like begging forgiveness from all the people here... all one hundred sixty thousand, barely a fourth of the total lost.

"After returning to the PLANTS from our attack on Porta Panama, I added one more thing to my bimonthly ritual. I had no idea who was going to die next... Dearka was MIA, I was being reassigned, Athrun was off on solo missions, the war was turning against us... grim days. So I offered up a third bouquet, to the future losses, whoever they would turn out to be." Ysak replied. He reached into the bouquet with his free hand and grabbed a single rose, tearing off the flower head and scattering the petals widely by tossing them into the air. He pricked his fingers sharply on the thorns, causing blood to well up in beads that stained some of the petals, but Ysak didn't let that stop him for reaching for the next flower. "It always stings, and more than just my fingertips. I think that's good. The deaths of people you care about should hurt. It's when I start tossing these flowers without feeling any pain at all other than that in my fingertips that I'll know I've lost the ability to feel love and grief. If that day ever comes, that is the day my life should end."

"Can... can I help?" Katie asked quietly. "I don't want to intrude on your private grief... but... I too want to make sure I retain the ability to grieve..." Ysak didn't consider long. With barely a second glance he proffered the bouquet towards her as they slowly made their way back towards the memorial entrance. They decorated the ground around them with their grief, beads of crimson on pure white petals that whirled like tears in the gentle breezes.

---------------------------------------

"Ysak... I've been wondering this for a while." Katie asked one morning. Ysak grunted something incoherent and rolled over, facing the wall. He wasn't a morning person. Not that he couldn't wake up fully alert and aware at the drop of a pin... but if given his druthers he preferred to take his time easing into each new day. Not one to take no for an answer, Katie goosed him with one hand, trusting to the difference in their body temperatures to shock him into relative wakefulness. She sometimes suffered from poor circulation in her hands and feet, especially shortly after waking up. And Ysak usually burned like a furnace, or so it felt, though he was never feverish. An apt name, Joule (also a scientific unit of measurement for heat energy, if you weren't aware). True to her prediction, Ysak jerked and rolled over to glare at her, much more awake than he had been a moment before.

"I've warned you about doing that." He said crossly.

"Why is the redcoat red?" Katie continued, ignoring him in favor of her own question. "Why make two different uniforms for the same branch of service when you could just make a badge or something instead? You always talk about how the PLANTS don't like wasting resources... wouldn't it save a lot of cloth to just have one color uniform, like most military's?"

"Well, they didn't precisely ask my opinion when they made the uniform regulations." Ysak said after a moment or two to organize his thoughts. "But the structure of ZAFT is fundamentally different from that of Earth military forces. ZAFT was formed as a militia unit, not a professional fighting force. Our rank structure is much more fluid than the one the Alliance uses. Rank is determined as much by personal ability and charisma as it is by time spent in the military. You can't become a Redcoat elite no matter how long you spend in the military, unless you have the abilities to warrent it. Being a Redcoat is also a measure of your personal trustworthiness... kinda like how some jobs in your military require different levels of clearance... confidential, secret, top secret, etc. By being authorized to wear the Redcoat uniform, it signifies that ZAFT leadership... and by extension PLANT leadership... trusts your loyalty and competence very highly, which means you get told stuff other soldier's aren't and are given opportunities other soldier's aren't. A normal pilot would never have been allowed to keep one of the Gundams we stole... but ZAFT high command was more than happy to let the four of us keep ours."

"So instead of using badges and patches and other accoutrements to denote skill and trustworthiness, the actual color of the uniform is what matters?"

"In most cases yes. There are a few exceptions... FAITH members and highly decorated people like Rau le Creuset or Andrew Waltfeld have more authority than their uniform rank would otherwise indicate."

"That's a really stupid system. Why not just put big targets on your faces saying "hey, if you kill me you're doing more to hurt ZAFT than if you kill him"?"

"Like I said, they didn't ask my opinion." Ysak retorted. Katie was silent for almost a minute. Ysak was just about to drift off again... he had nothing to do today, an extra thirty minutes in bed wouldn't hurt, surely?

"Are you absolutely sure it's not because red uniforms are really sexy?"

"This conversation is over."

----------------------------------------------

"Only two more days to go until we have to meet up with everyone again." Katie said, with a slight pout. This vacation with Ysak had been one of the best times of her entire life. Even if she'd never quite been able to forget that they were only up in the PLANTS because they'd been soundly defeated down on Earth, but there was little use in getting angry over something you couldn't fix. No, it was better to take what enjoyment you could out of life while it was being offered to you. They'd get Sai back with interest for what he'd done to the world and themselves personally... but they would wait for the right time and opportunity to do it.

"I am dreading that day." Ysak admitted. "I don't think I've yet experienced a time where I could be as relaxed as I have these past days. Its been wonderful. I haven't even thought about fighting in more than a week, and I'm not even disappointed. You're a powerful influence indeed, love."

"And I've learned so much about so many things. It's been amazing. I practically live in your head, Ysak-y, and theres still so much about you I hadn't known. I'm so glad we got to spend all this time with just ourselves."

"Sure, make it sound like I haven't been here too." Ezalia harrumphed. She was slipping on her coat and shoes in the entrance foyer, in preparation for heading out to the office. It was late and she didn't usually work at "night"... but there was always lots of work to do, and Ysak had asked for privacy tonight, which she had been only too happy to provide. Plainly her son had big plans for making this night special in some way, which was just wonderful in her opinion. "It may be hard for youngsters like you to believe, but this old matron has had new life injected into her just by you two being around."

"You're not a matron, mother."

"Ysak, you're supposed to deny that she's old!"

"She is old. Older than most people I know..."

"I think that's my cue to leave, before you talk yourself too much deeper into a hole. Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone." Ezalia opened the door, but she paused in the doorway. "And have fun, you two. You deserve it." She shut the door after herself. Less than a minute later the car started up and drove away. Katie turned to face at Ysak's direction expectantly. He'd been shielding hard for two days now, plainly planning a big event, and she was burning up inside with anticipation. She'd been told to stay in Ysak's room pretty much all afternoon, while Ysak bustled around the rest of the house and the sound of delivery vehicles came and went several times. She'd been wearing a blindfold ever since Ezalia had come up to tell her to come downstairs since she was leaving for work.

"So how long do I have to stay blind? A little mystery is exciting, but I'm starting to get bored." Katie prompted.

"Not too much longer. Come with me." Ysak took her by the hand and led her into the first floor study. "Wait until I shut the door and then you can take off the blindfold. When you're ready, come back into the entertaining room." Ysak released her hand and quickly retreated from the room, shutting the door behind him. Slightly bemused but tingling with anticipation all the same, Katie slowly lifted the blindfold and blinked a few times to clear the spots in her vision. She gasped with surpise and admiration. Arrayed before her on a stand next to a portable full length mirror was a dress. But not just any dress, no it was a sapphire blue formal evening gown in a style that had first seen use back in the early twentieth century of the AD calender, several centuries ago. It was the kind of dress that fabulously wealthy and enigmatic women always wore in the ancient black and white romance and mystery movies that were so popular back then. Made from silk or something so like it as to feel identical, the gown was shoulderless and lighter than a feather, with one side slit almost to midthigh to allow ease of movement. It had to have been custom made, because outside of museums such dresses didn't exist.

On the dresser drawer to the side of the mirror was several different colors of makeup, a real pearl necklace and various other glittering accessories, mostly silver or platinum with sapphires or light blue pearls being the predominat gems. She could barely imagine how much it all cost... now she saw what Ysak had done with his share of Alkire's money. A pair of silvery open topped dress shoes with moderate heels were placed under the dress... Ysak knew she despised high or spike heels. She giggled... Ysak really did love playing dress up, even if he'd never admit it to most people. He sure did know how to go overboard with it too... not that she was complaining. Katie rapidly shucked out of her normal clothes and began getting dressed. The costume was exquisite... but when dealing with this fantasy game of Ysak's, the clothing was always just the tip of the iceberg. She wasn't very practised at self beautification... Chanel had been really good at it and so had taken care of them both while she was alive... but at length she had gotten dressed and was reasonably happy with how she looked. Almost trembling with excitement, Katie slowly opened the door and stepped out into the house proper.

All the lights were off, and the auto-tinting windows adjusted so that it appeared to be dusk inside the house. The only sources of illumination were candles. Dozens of candles, of varying sizes, some on wall sconces, others on candlesticks, still more on the table's and other flat surfaces... some even on the floor, tucked away in spots where they wouldn't be easily walked on, all giving off faint but still pleasant scents. She made her way down the hall and noticed something else. There were camera's set up all over the place. Not obtrusively so, but their coverage was good. Pretty much anywhere she could imagine standing or sitting was covered by the view of at least one camera. They all looked to be on some sort of remote program control. This was a new twist to the game... Ysak generally didn't like leaving evidence for other people to perhaps stumble upon. Finally Katie entered the entertainment room and spotted Ysak. Seeing her, he stepped out from the darker corner he'd been waiting in, allowing the candlelight to illuminate his own choice of clothing.

In keeping with his pre-chosen theme, Ysak wore a heavy outer trenchcoat of dark, nearly black fabric, worn long to the ankles and buttoned up tight nearly to his chin. A pure white rose wasattached to his left breast pocket, and he wore a fedora that matched his coat, with another, smaller white rose offset on the band of the hat. With the fedora angled just so, to hide his eyes from easy view and with his hands placed casually in his pockets, he was the spitting image of the gritty private eye or mysterious gangster who often played the male hero role in those old movies. He was absolutely delicious, in her eyes. He held out his hand and smirked. If there was one facial expression Ysak could pull off like no one else could, it was an arrogant smirk. This one was a superluminal example. "Care to dance a little before dinner, miss?"

Katie had to lick her lips and swallow to build up enough moisture in her suddenly dry mouth to speak without croaking. This was... WOW. "I'd love to, sir." Katie took his hand and let herself be pulled into a brief embrace. He continued to tantalize her though, stepping back to put her at half arm's length, slipping one hand down to her waist and taking her right hand in his left. She obligingly draped her own left hand over his right shoulder and smiled up into his face. Even this close the brim of the hat almost totally obscured her view of his eyes, but the smile was impossible to conceal. His right hand briefly left her waist and then returned, fingers tickling along her thigh before settling again, causing her to shiver involuntarily. He'd been practicing, that was clear.

"I scouted out some theme appropriate music, but I just didn't like it very much. My mother suggested I try some slightly more contempary selections...some of that new excavation rock trash thats getting so popular. I was pleasantly surprised, I only had to look forward eighty years or so. It's not the best dancing music, but I like it all the same." Ysak said, as the song "Love Like Winter" by the band AFI started playing from hidden speakers. Katie was forced to agree with Ysak... it wasn't the best type of song to slow dance to, but neither of them really cared. All they wanted to do was hold each other and sway back and forth and stare at each other. It was a perfectly good song for that. By the end of the first song Ysak's hand had crept up to her back and was slowly pressing them closer together. The next song was "All Around Me" by Flyleaf. At the end of the song Ysak kissed her for the first time that night. The hat bumped awkwardly against the side of her head for a few moments until Ysak reached up and brushed it off. The song ended and the speakers turned off.

Katie made a small noise of protest when Ysak pulled away from the single kiss. "Don't be so impatient, love. We have a full night ahead of us." Ysak disengaged from the dancing embrace. "Let me treat you to dinner for starters. Your first meal prepared entirely by my hands... though not without a great deal of supervision by my mother, I'll admit."

"Had me worried for a moment there, Ysak-y. Would hate to die of food poisoning just as you were showing signs of being a romantic after all." Katie needled, enjoying his scowl almost as much as the smirk from earlier. Dinner turned out to be venison filet mignon with asparagus topped with berenaise sauce and while not five star resteraunt quality, it was still pretty damned good. There was even real champagne, though only two glasses each... plainly Ysak didn't want even a chance of alchohol ending the night early. They didn't speak during dinner, not even mentally... though they did spend plenty of time eying each other and teasing each other by eating in the most languid, suggestive manner they could manage without bursting out in laughter. Ysak rapidly cleared the plates and other dishes away when they were done and then took off his coat. The suit and slacks he wore underneath were both pure white, with a azure blue shirt and black tie. A blue lotus formed his lapel pin. He took her by the hand again and led her out into a clear space.

"Time for a few more dances. And in case you were wondering about the cameras... well, I don't think I'd believe this night really occured if I didn't have phsyical proof to look at down the road." Ysak said lightly.

"Aren't you worried about De...! Dearka?" Katie was forced to resay the name because Ysak had leaned in and kissed the side of her neck while simultaneously running his fingers lightly down her spine, quite derailing her train of thoughts for a moment.

"Let him look. There's nothing in these pictures to be embarassed about." Ysak activated the sound system once more and pulled her into a dancing embrace again, though this time he put both arms around her waist, while she put both arms around his neck. The first song was "Hey There Delilah" by The Plain White T's.

"Most men put on something a little more... classical... when they try and set the mood." Katie commented, trailing one hand down his chest.

"I'm not most men." Ysak shrugged slightly. "Besides, even if I couldn't change the lyrics to include your name without ruining the flow of the song, I do think they are fitting for us." He stopped her from replying with another kiss. Both of them began to use their hands to roam rather more freely. Full, warm, slightly encouraged by the alchohol in the champagne, it was almost time for the best part of the whole ritual. The song segued into "The Fire" by Papa Roach.

"Got enough buttons on that shirt?" Katie half protested. "Almost like you want to make things hard"

"It's a challenge. I'm still trying to work out how that dress stays on at all, myself."

"You bought it."

"Yes, but I didn't try it on. Its one thing holding it by itself... quite another holding you in it."

"Ysak."

"Mmm?"

"This is beautiful. Where were you hiding all this innovation?"

"It's not even half over yet. And aboard a crowded warship is hardly the place where I can be my most romantic. Besides, you know what they say about us quiet guys..."

"I don't, but I think I can come up with a couple good guesses. Thank you, Ysak. Thank you so much.."

"Talking isn't speeding things along. If you must communicate, use your thoughts. Or better yet..." Ysak's fingers finally found the clasps holding the dress together in the back. He undid them with a simple flick ofthe wrist. The song was "What I've Done" by Linkin Park. "... let me hear some incoherence."

---------------------------------------------

Auter note: This is one of my first tries at actual romance writing, which nowhere near as easy for me as action (though I am feeling more confident in it now). I hope I did a good job, all you Ysak fans (especially the so called "fangirls". Because let's face it, generally speaking, guys like Ysak cause he's a badass fighter, not because of his romantic qualities). The music is eccentric for "romance", but I think most of the songs fit Ysak pretty well. In fact, "What I've Done" is my theme song for Ysak, for his representation in my fanfic anyway, which I think fleshes him and his family and his motivations for being the Ysak we know out a lot more than most fanfics. But that might be hubris talking. Oh yes... if anyone has any ideas for cool nonviolent hobbies for Ysak to have, well, I'm listening. Next is Kira and Lacus.


	96. The Nutured SEED

The Past

"We're losing him. Vital signs are dropping across the board. Vital signs have ceased. The embryo has died." The lab assistant leaned back and slowly turned off the life monitoring equipment. "Another failure, Doctor. Another five million dollars in the wastebasket."

"Don't despair, Nicholas. We were closer with that one. Almost six months advanced, a full two weeks better than the one before him. We'll have to take a closer look at sequences A thru E... just a few more tweaks and the sponsors will have their golden goose and I'll finally have the process that will give me my son."

"The early sequences aren't the problem sir, if I may be frank. The thing that keeps killing the embryo's is sequence "S" and sequence "Z". If we modify those to a more adaptable standard, I'm sure that..."

"No, Nicholas, we can change any sequence, except for those two. Those two must be kept inviolate, exactly the way they are, at all costs."

"Why, Doctor? I don't understand, what is so important about those two gene sequences?"

Doctor Ulen Hibiki heaved a heavy sigh and glanced around the genetics laboratory. Except for him and his personal assistant, it was entirely deserted. He and Nicholas had come in on a Saturday to continue the project both of them were nearly obsessed with, though for different reasons. For Ulen, it was all about the the process and the results. For Nicholas, it was all about the money the process and the results would generate. "Have you ever heard of something called the SEED factor, Nicholas?"

"That's just a theory, and a wild one at that. There's no proof of such a thing."

"Most people believe that. But what I know, and what I have kept to myself, is that I do have proof it exists. I can't point out the exact gene, but somewhere within sequence "S" is the genetic coding that passes on the SEED from generation to generation. Without sequence "S" there is no point at all in making an Ultimate Coordinator."

"You've lost me again, Doctor. I thought the purpose of this research was to find a remedy for the biological changes a mother's body has on a child during the zygotic and embryonic stages of a Coordinated pregnacy."

"That is a convenient side effect, and its in the pursuit of that secondary goal that I get most of our funding, but no, Nicholas, that's not the real purpose of these experiments."

"Then what the hell is, Doctor!?"

"The purpose of this research is to move humanity on to the next stage of its evolutionary development. I told you that before."

"That's what Coordinator's ARE, Doctor!"

"No, Nicholas, Coordinators are merely the first of three steps in the process to attaining the next stage."

"According to who? I've never heard any theory along those lines."

"That's because I haven't published anything yet, because it still is ALL THEORY! That's why we're researching! To turn my theory into facts and data!"

"Well maybe if you were to explain your theory I might understand a little better. I can't assist in much if you keep me in the dark all the time!"

"You're right. I'm sorry, Nicholas. Let me think for a moment." Ulen took a sip of coffee. It was lukewarm. Time always passed so quickly while he was in the lab, or so it seemed. "Coordinators, with their genetically enhanced potential, both physical and mental, are the first step, like I said. But no matter how much you increase physical and mental skills, you don't ever produce anything but "super" humans, at an extreme. Superhuman is not the next stage, though next stagers will be superhuman, if that makes any sense. But being superhuman will merely be a side effect of what they are, not the main purpose."

"I'm with you so far."

"No one really understands the SEED, not even me. My best guess is that it's a sort of evolutionary key, that unlocks the deepest depths of a person's potential in all areas. It is my assumption that all humans have the SEED, but only a very limited few... one in a hundred million, roughly... can activate it. But here's the clincher... the SEED is not accessed by any physical or mental abilities, though of course it has a massive effect on them. The SEED is activated by one thing only... emotions. It is no secret that your emotions affect your physical and intellectual abilities, that given the proper emotional stimulus a person can exceed what would ordinarily be his mental or physical limits, if only usually for a short time."

"Okay."

"Coordinators with the SEED are the second step on the path to the next stage. Already possessing physical and mental abilities in excess of the human norm, when combined with the "enabler" of the SEED, such a being would be able to ascend to levels of ability that we can barely even comprehend. But even such a superhuman would not be the next stage. The next stage of human evolution will almost certainly be emotional in nature. This is where sequence "Z" comes in. Here's a secret that only you and I will know. Can I trust you to keep it?"

"I'm intrigued. I won't tell another soul."

"Have you ever heard of something called a "Newtype"?"

"Oh come on. Bad enough this stuff about the SEED, at least there are some theories about that. Newtypes are fantasy."

"I don't blame you for saying that. Anyone without a top secret: code word level clearance would agree with you. However, I do much work for the government and I can assure you, they are quite real, if exceedingly rare. You didn't hear this from me naturally... this is kill yourself before disclosing class information, Nicholas. In the course of some of that work I managed to make a genetic record of one of the Newtypes. With much painstaking labor I was able to isolate a sequence that I am convinced includes the mutated gene that gives Newtypes their powers. That was all just idle labor though... here's the secret. When I looked at the gene records we used for our embryo's, I discovered a nearly identical sequence embedded in the part of the genetic code that controls ocular ability and pigmentation."

"But sir, the genes we're creating the embryo's from are..."

"From my wife, yes. She's a Latent Newtype. Has no idea of course. Only you and I know." Ulen massaged his temples... it was enough to overwhelm even him at times. "This is why I have taken to calling our eventual product an "Ultimate Coordinator." According to my theories, the Newtype mutation is recessive. Since all our embryo's are fertilized eggs from my wife and I, I've calculated a roughly one in two hundred forty seven chance of the gene being passed on. It will be immediately obvious, since the gene is inseperable from the ones controlling the pigments of the cornea... a Newtype baby born from our process in these artifical wombs will have purple eyes. Maybe at some time in the future someone will be able to completely isolate the Newtype gene and we can produce Ultimate Coordinators with any color eyes, but that labor is at least a generation or two down the line... maybe my son will be able to solve it."

"So any baby produced from your embryo's in these artificial wombs will have a one in two hundred forty seven chance of having the SEED and Newtype powers?"

"One in two forty seven for Newtype powers. One in ten thousand chance for both."

"Ulen, we don't have anywhere near enough money to fund that level of research!"

"I know, that's why I've undertaken a side project from Allen la Flaga. He's interested in having himself cloned because his wife is unable to bear children."

"Cloning humans is illegal, Ulen!"

"But highly profitable. I would have thought you, of all people would know that, Nicholas. You are well known for your avaracious nature."

"Got any other secret projects I need to know about? Planning on building an android behind my back too!?"

"Don't be like that, Nicholas. I'll be glad to have you assist me on the la Flaga project. I'll even let you have the patent for the process... you know such things don't interest me. Human cloning is currently illegal, but who knows if it will always be so."

"Fine. But as you were saying about this three step process?"

"My son will be an Ultimate Coordinator, with the SEED and Newtype abilities. Only such a rare being has the chance to produce the third step, the next stage of human evolution. The SEED is an emotional phenomenon, Nicholas... but the SEED by itself is incomplete. What happens to a plant seed you just stick in a pot of dirt and neglect? It just sits there, and might even die. But if you plant a seed in fertile dirt, water it, nuture it... what eventually results? A tree. Something many orders of magnitude greater than a tiny little seed. And what does that tree eventually produce? Fruit, from which more seeds are sown and more trees are born, and so forth and so on."

"So the children of your child... they will be the true next stage in human evolution?"

"So my theory says, for Kira anyway. Cagalli is just going to be a normal Natural girl, which my wife insists upon for some unknowable reason... she's quite frustrating that way. Anyhow, Newtype powers have great influence over emotions. With proper training and supervision in the use of his powers on his emotions, in essence providing that nuturing, fertile, and well watered dirt in the analogy, as well as effects from certain natural chemical processes... most likely those associated with reaching total sexual maturity and prolonged activity, probably around age thirty or so... the SEED in my son will take root and start becoming a tree. Once that tree reaches maturity, which should take anywhere from five to ten years, it will start bearing fruit... likely altering his genetic structure somewhat, granting his children a chance to pass on what will then be dominate genes for the SEED and Newtype abilties. I also theorize that a sudden emotional or chemical trauma might have the ability to cause the SEED to sprout prematurely, assuming it was being properly nutured, in effect jump starting the whole process. Of course I have no idea what sort of stimulus or trauma has the possibility of initiating this jump start... we'll have to spend years of research before we know, if we ever do."

"But once we produce one Ultimate Coordinator, we can record the process and just duplicate it, right? Everyone will be able to have a child like that, assuming they can afford to pay for the artificial womb." Ulen could almost see the dollar signs in his assistant's eyes.

"Well, if everyone wants to adopt a child with genes from me and my wife, sure. Remember, all the embryo's are from my wife and I. You could search for years without finding another bloodline with both the SEED and Newtype powers... I only found ours by accident. Or perhaps fate, if you believe in that sort of trash."

"Doctor... wouldn't it be possible for an Ultimate Coordinator to be born naturally? I mean, outside an artificial womb. Or to breed an artificial bloodline with the genes we needed?"

"The likelihood is so remote as to be astronomical. You're more likely to find a one hundred carat blue diamond inside a random meteor."

"But it could happen."

"Anything is possible, Mr. Borander, but we scientists try to deal in things that are at least somewhat likely. Now, lets get the next embryo unfrozen... we have a lot of work ahead of us."

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The Present

Kira was falling. Or perhaps floating would be more accurate. He couldn't really tell. There was no frame of reference. He couldn't discern anything, not even himself. Just an endless void, in which his mind and senses were contained. It was quite disorienting... he could hear, though no sounds reached him, feel without anything touching him, taste and smell likewise without any actual stimuli to give him those sensations. He could even see, though there was nothing but blackness to see. He couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep, if he was dreaming or conscious. He was aware of time passing, but precisely how much was another frustratingly unknowable mystery. He continued to drift. Ever so slowly, so slowly he was barely even aware of it happening, he started to become aware of something else in the void with him.

"Lacus?" He asked, or thought or... he shook his head or thought-image or whatever. "Lacus?" He got no verbal response, but he felt himself moving, which was a positive change. He looked down... or up... he looked, that was the important thing. He looked and saw. A memory suddenly whirled in front of him like wreckage blasted away by an explosion.

_PAIN, white hot PAIN in his body! His hands were on fire! His body was moving by itself! He couldn't control it! He couldn't fight it any longer! He was dying... the machine was killing him! He had to escape. He had to GET OUT! There was a sensation of falling... had he succeeded, or was this death?_

The memory vanished just as he started to panic again. His vision was clearer now. He looked and saw a shape. A colored shape, something like a egg, tiny as if it were extremely far away or maybe it really was just small. It was violet in color, the same color as his eyes. He was familiar with it, he'd seen it many times during stressful battles, though it was usually much bigger. Even as he thought that, it slowly started to swell in size. Kira suddenly became aware of a fierce thirst, just as another jagged memory fragment invaded his consciousness.

_His body was numb, but he could feel a breeze across his face all the same. His chest ached and he vomited pinkish liquid, overowkred lungs struggling to deal with gaseous air again. There was sun on his face, then shade. Something was blocking the sun. Someone perhaps. The shade started talking, but Kira couldn't understand the words. He couldn't hear anything, but it was like there was a tiny echo in his emotions. His nerves were scrambled, he was all but paralyzed, but he knew he was in danger somehow. He just couldn't do anything about it. Lacus... Lacus was going to kill him. He'd been wrong... he never should have piloted the Pulsar. His body choked and shivered... there was liquid in his throat. It wasn't water. It was thick and warm and gluey, filling his mouth, drowning him... and then he was swallowing, his muscles worked by an outside force. The taste burned his tongue. He was going to vomit! The taste was... BLOOD!_

Kira jerked away from that memory too, though the phantom chemical taste of the blood wouldn't leave his lips now. It was disgusting, harsh, nauseating... but all the same he couldn't help but lick his lips every so often, refreshing the taste. The SEED was much closer now. This was the first time he'd ever been able to get a good look at it... usually it fell and exploded in between instants, unleashing depths of skill and innovation he barely even dreamed he had. The SEED kept getting bigger and bigger... it was the size of a softball... now a basketball... now it was the size of a large dog. Within seconds it was as big as he was and it kept getting bigger and bigger, swelling like there was something inside straining to get out. "Kira!" A familiar voice intruded on the void. "Wake up Kira! Please, wake up Kira!"

"I'm trying, damn it!"

"Kira! Kira!" The worry and pain in the voice was tearing at his heart. Lacus was in extreme distress. He had to go to her. He had to help her. But the SEED was in his way, blocking the path. He struck out at it, hammering at it with his fists. At first there was no effect but then suddenly a crack appeared.

"I'm coming! Lacus! Hold on, I'm coming!" Kira called. He drew back to attack the SEED again but then froze. His body ws freezing solid and burning up at the same time! He couldn't move. He could barely think. Every cell of his body felt supersaturated with violent energy. Something was happening to him. The pain kept growing and growing... just as the tiny crack in the SEED slowly started to spread. The crack forked, and forked again, extending along to fully encircle the SEED in a growing web of cracks. The pain was becoming unbearable, Kira could hear himself screaming. Just before a brilliant blast of light enfolded the void Kira caught one last glimpse of the SEED, which had tiny silver root filaments creeping out of the cracks. He screamed again as the agony reached a crescendo, and he could hear the echo this time.

Lacus jerked back, snatching her hand away from Kira's forehead as he jerked upright in bed, almost falling off the bed in his sudden convulsion. His scream of excrutiation echoed around the enclosed glass gazebo as his eyes flew open and he returned to consciousness. For several seconds she watched his eyes dart around in unseeing panic, as the sensors monitoring his vital signs whirred and beeped in alarm as his agitation sent his pulse and blood pressure skyrocketing. Lacus recognized the symptoms of a dangerous panic attack that might lead to further injury... she'd been warned by several doctors that there was a possibility of something like this occuring upon Kira's return to consciousness. The trauma that had put him into a coma in the first place would be fresh in his mind, even if hours or even days had passed, to him it would be like it just happened. She immediately started humming a song even as she reached out for him, feeling his feverish body like an inferno against her as she hugged him tight, sending as much reassurance and calm as her Newtype powers would allow her to into him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his breathing steadied out and his heartrate started dropping to normal levels. He was gasping and crying, but no longer screaming, and he'd stopped sweating profusely. Lacus slowly lowered him back into a reclining position on the bed and put her hand on his forehead again. Kira's eyes were closed, but they fluttered open even as she finished humming the song. Kira winced, his eyes blinking in the afternoon sunlight. Noticing this, Lacus increased the polarization of the gazebo walls and ceiling, dropping the light to near dusk levels. Kira rolled his eyes over to look at her. "I'm not dead?" He whispered.

"No. You're very much alive." Lacus didn't bother to fight the tears welling in her eyes. "Thank God for his mercy."

"So... sorry, Lacus." Kira said, his voice barely audible. "You were... right... about the... Pulsar."

"Don't talk, Kira. You need to conserve your strength. You were badly injured by that machine." Lacus implored.

"Thirsty..."

"You've got an IV in you Kira, but I have a cup of water if you want some." Lacus held the cup to his lips, fighting to keep her hands steady. It wasn't easy, it almost physically hurt her to see him so weak he couldn't even drink by himself. She tipped a little water into his mouth, but not too much, afraid he might start choking. It was worse than that actually. Just as he started swallowing Kira seemed to be struck by some sort of fit and he spasmed again, almost sliding off the bed. He opened his mouth and heaved up the mouthful of water along with a good deal of bile. He continued to dry heave, trembling with the convulsive vomiting, for several minutes. Lacus dropped the cup and merely held him tight against her, never minding the mess.

"S... sorry." Kira mumbled. "Terrible... taste... in my... mouth. Like... blood... but worse..."

Lacus held his head tightly to her chest, cuddling him protectively. "It's all right. You had a lot of terrible things happen to you, and not just from the Pulsar."

"What happened? Place... seems familiar... always... waking up hurt... at your... house... PLANTS?"

"We lost, Kira. The Archangel crashed and was disabled. Athrun and the others managed to hold off Frost, but they lost a lot of strength doing it. You destroyed his mobile suit, but he showed his usual maniacal tenacity and managed to survive anyway. The Pulsar's operating system took control of your body and almost killed you, but you managed to eject barely in time. That's why your body feels so terrible... you were electrocuted for nearly three minutes by a five hundred volt system. Most people would be dead, but you're a lot tougher than most people..." Lacus had to stop for a moment to wipe away the tears and compose herself.

"Frost stole the Pulsar after you ejected... but before he did... Kira..." Lacus had to stop again. How could she tell him about the horrible thing Frost had inflicted upon him... it still made her sick just thinking about it.

"Tell... me, Lacus..."

"He force fed you more than a pint of his chemically altered blood." Lacus forced herself to blurt out. "We've done what we can to detoxify you, but the doctors say there is likely to be some lingering side effects... perhaps even permanent ones."

"Don't worry... Lacus... be fine... just... bad taste..."

"I hope so, Kira. I do hope and pray so. But you need your rest... even Ultimate Coordinators can't bounce back in a day from injuries like yours. Sleep now, and we'll talk again tomorrow morning." Lacus didn't wait for him to argue, humming a short lullaby that knocked him out before he was even fully aware of what was happening. "Forgive me for that, but its for your own good." Lacus leaned over and kissed him on the lips... there was no taste there besides a slight hint of bile. She sighed and stood up to go change her clothes.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"I can't believe Sai held a gun to my head and tried to hold me hostage." Kira shook his head in dismay. It was the morning of the fourth day since his friends had all gone their seperate ways and he was already up and moving around under his own power, though he wasn't moving fast by any means... his entire body still ached terribly and he suffered occasional spasm attacks that sometimes were strong enough to send him stumbling from his feet. Lacus had forbidden him from walking up and down stairs without her help until the attacks stopped occuring and he hadn't questioned the wisdom of that decision... the last thing he needed to do was fall down a flight of stairs.

"I wasn't particularly pleased to see it either." Lacus replied, standing with him at the stone balcony that looked over the lake the Clyne property bordered on. "It hurt, having to tell him to go ahead and shoot you, since I couldn't compromise my principles just for your sake."

"That was the correct choice, though it pains me somewhat to have to agree with getting shot in the head." Kira quirked a smile that she did not share. The smile died away. "Lacus, isn't it about time you told me what really happened during the negotiations with Sai? You're hiding something from me, I can feel it." Lacus didn't reply, or even look at him. Kira sighed. "I know I offended and hurt you by using your feelings for me to let me pilot the Pulsar, but I've apologized for that..."

"And I forgive you. But just because I forgive you doesn't mean you automatically earn back that level of trust we used to have, Kira." Lacus replied, still not looking at him. "It doesn't work that way."

"Then what can I do!?" Kira put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn and look at him. "How can I earn back that trust!?"

"I DON'T KNOW, ALRIGHT!" Lacus brushed his hand off and turned away again. "I don't know." She repeated, more calmly. "It's not something where I can just give you a task to earn my full trust back, my emotions don't work like that. I don't know anything besides the fact that its not going to be quick."

"Katie contacted me right before I took off. She told me about how I'd caused you to cry." Kira said after a long pause. "I don't think I've ever felt worse than I did right then, even when Flay was killed right in front of me. Katie promised to beat the crap out of me when I got back, and I imagine she still will, as soon as I recover fully. And I can't blame her at all for wanting to. I betrayed the trust of the most important person in the world to me, and not only that, I did it while making a stupid choice that backfired even worse on everyone."

"You speak the truth." Lacus replied. "What about it?"

"I was wrong... but that doesn't make it right for you to lie to me about what happened between you and Sai." Kira placed his hands on her shoulders again and pulled her towards him so that they were face to face. "It's my responsibility to make up for my mistakes, and I can't do that if I don't know the full situation. It is my right to know what happened between you and Sai."

"Let me go, Kira."

"Not until you tell me what happened."

"I can make you let go, Kira."

"Yes, you can, but then you'd be a hypocrite and we'd both be even more miserable than we already are." Kira stared into her eyes fiercely, a look she returned. He couldn't help himself... she was so lovely when she was furious. Kira leaned forward suddenly and kissed her, hard. Lacus went stiff as a board for a moment, her eyes widening in shock and then narrowing in renewed anger. She shoved him hard, breaking the kiss but not quite pushing him away.

"Not making much progress in regaining that trust if you keep acting like that." She warned him. "I think it might be good if we both spend some time alone to cool off."

"I decline. I've had too much time alone." Kira didn't let go of her. He watched her eyes widen in shock again, but he didn't much care at the moment. "We've got some problems between us, Lacus. We're not going anywhere until we resolve them, or at least begin to."

"This isn't like you, Kira!"

"A lot of bad shit has happened to me, both by my own actions and the actions of others. My apologies, but I'm really not feeling like my sweet and conciliatory old self right now." Kira retorted, voice rising. "I might be able to relax a little more if I knew what you're trying to hide from me. Come on, how bad can it be? It can't be any worse than the Pulsar making me betray my oath never to kill senselessly ever again!"

"Don't be so self righteously sure with me!" Lacus shouted back. "I almost killed three people on purpose and could have irrecoverably damaged all our our friend's minds! Do you have any idea how that makes ME feel? I've never intentionally HURT ANYONE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, KIRA! And I was THIS CLOSE..." Lacus held up two fingers barely a millimeter apart. "... THIS CLOSE to killing Sai and his two bodyguards like they were bugs! When he put that gun to your head I snapped! I went temporarily insane! I can't even tell you what I was feeling, because I don't clearly remember. I remember a sensation like slipping on some gloves and suddenly I was able to see you through Sai's eyes. I was able to make him move like he was a doll! And you know what the WORST PART IS!? I WAS ENJOYING IT! **I WAS ENJOYING IT!**" Lacus was sobbing even as she screamed at him. "I took free will away from three people with my powers and I was having FUN DOING IT! Yes, they were threatening you. Yes, they were threatening us all. But that is NO EXCUSE FOR BETRAYING EVERYTHING I STAND FOR!"

"Uh..." Kira was speechless... this wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"If that grey haired man hadn't been able to somehow resist my influence by disappearing from my mental view, who KNOWS what might have happened!? He talked me down, Kira. He talked enough sense into me that I realized what I'd been about to do. I had been within a minute of murdering three people for YOUR SAKE, even though you'd JUST TORN MY HEART OPEN LESS THAN HALF A DAY EARLIER! KIRA, I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR MY OWN PRINCIPLES, OR SO I THOUGHT, BUT I WAS FORCED TO SEE THAT I WAS WRONG TO ASSUME THAT!" Lacus clenched her fists so hard Kira actually saw her bleed a little.

"Calm down, Lacus..."

"SHUT UP, KIRA! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THIS, YOU CAN SHUT UP AND LISTEN!" Lacus did take a few deep breaths though. "I lost some trust in you when you played with my emotions Kira. But I lost ALL trust in myself when I nearly murdered those people! And if I can't trust myself, how can you trust me!? Bad enough what I might have done to Sai and all them... if I'd directed that level of ability even partially against you, you'd be a vegetable right now! I lost control Kira... what if I do it again? What if next time there isn't someone to talk me down? Who might I hurt? Who might I kill? Katie? Ysak? YOU!? If I start lashing out again, the only way to stop me might be killing me before I kill others! What am I supposed to do, Kira? I'm totally lost and I'm terrified! I can barely tell what's real anymore..."

"This is real." Kira said firmly, embracing her tightly. "I'm real. You're real. This is all real. If it wasn't real, it wouldn't hurt. But it does. It hurts so much. But that's good. It's when it doesn't hurt anymore that we know we've lost who we were." He held her close as she cried her terror and panic out. He'd been angry at her before, but that was gone now. Now he had a terrified girl in his arms that he loved more than he could ever express and the worst heartache was knowing that he was the cause of some of her pain. "It's all right... I'm here...just let it out... just let it all out... don't hold back..."

"IT'S **NOT** ALL RIGHT!" Lacus yelled. Kira stiffened as it suddenly felt like he was holding a tornado in his arms, even though Lacus wasn't moving at all. He winced as Lacus dropped all her mental shields and emotional barriers... he could see the SEED dropping through her mind. When it detonated he physically stumbled backwards, releasing her involuntarily. Kira shielded his face as Lacus seemed to lose physicality and turn into a churning supernova of light. At the same time, his eyes told him that she was just standing there, looking at him with her eyes washed out in a SEED rage. Lacus smiled at him, but there wasn't much Lacus in the smile. "It's not all right, Kira. I can see you... all of you. Spread out before me. I can see the pain you're feeling... I know where it hurts most. I can see the damage Frost did. I'll make him regret it."

"No!" Kira shouted at her. "Lacus, calm down! It's okay to be scared. I'm here and I'm alive and I still will always love you. Yes, I'm in pain, yes Frost inflicted some damage on my mind and how it works... this strange agression and confrontational spirit... but I'm still me! I'm still Kira Yamato! That will never change! Not even if you kill Frost. Not even if you kill me!" He squared his shoulders and took one slow step towards her.

"Don't come near me, Kira. You're so open... I might..."

"It doesn't matter what might happen. You won't hurt me. I know that. I trust that implicitly." Kira took another step forward.

"Kira, DON'T! I'm not in full control of my powers right now!"

"That's the fear talking. But I don't believe it. And even if it is true, well, so be it. I'll take the risk. For you, I'd always take the risk." It felt like walking headfirst into an oven. His skin was melting off. His mind was shriveling up. He conjured up his own SEED... and his jaw dropped. What was usually a small purple seed was now a fist sized purple lump with silvery roots branching out of it in all directions. Instead of dropping and detonating, the silver roots flashed incandescent and the SEED started pulsing like a heart. Usually he felt a brief rush of adrenaline when entering a SEED rage. This time he felt like a dust mote in a hurricane. "Whoah...!"

"What's THAT!?" Lacus sounded shocked to the bone. "What are you doing, KIRA!?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Kira admitted, his pain all but gone. Lacus was still limned in light, but it was more like an Angel Halo now than a supernova. He stepped towards her again. "Looks like Frost's little plan may have backfired on him. I don't know what's happening... but I feel GREAT!"

"You're scaring me, Kira. Stay away..."

"I can't do that, Lacus. I can't ever stay away from you."

"I SAID STAY AWAY!" Lacus commanded. Kira felt her lash out with her power. He should have fallen over, unconscious at best. He barely even felt a breeze.

"I can't do it, Lacus. I love you." Kira took the final step and gathered her up in his arms again. "I can't stay away."

"How did you do that...?" Lacus murmured, startled out of her SEED rage. She almost collapsed against him, exhausted. "You're a Latent... you should have been completely vulnerable..."

"I don't know." Kira replied. He tilted her head up and kissed her. "But I'm glad anyway."

"Me too." Lacus pulled at him, half collapsing them both to the grass of the lawn. "Please Kira... gently..."

"As gentle as I can manage." He smiled at her and started trailing his kisses down her neck. "Love you so much."

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"So you do like the new Kira?" Cagalli said somewhat sceptically through the video screen. It was the middle of the day after Kira and Lacus's mutual blow up at each other and they were both still riding the emotional tides. Lacus was physically exhausted, but her mind was overflowing constantly and her emotions were bouncing around like Haro's on overdrive. Kira was in even worse shape, shuffling around near zombielike, unable to sleep, blazing like a bonfire on the mental landscape, emotions firing off like rocket volley's. Whatever else his new SEED mode did, it sure had one HELL of a withdrawal process. And some very interesting side effects... an entirely insatiable sex drive being just one of them.

"There's ups and downs." Lacus replied, almost slouched in her chair. "On one hand we're both driving each other up the walls... on the other hand I've never been so thoroughly satisified in bed on so many occasions within such a short time. I feel like I'm about to split in half."

"Lacus... TMI." Cagalli scrunched up her face. "You just be sure and tell him he's not off the hook for what he did in the hangar bay. We've got a raffel going to decide who gets the first five minutes alone with him and a sock full of rubber weights. So far Katie has the best chance... she's bought more than twenty tickets."

Lacus twitched and sat more upright in the chair. She slowly turned around in her chair, feeling the various aches and pains... of both good and bad varieties... as she adjusted position. "I'll remind him. And I'll talk to you later, Cagalli. Try not to have too much fun with Athrun."

"You too, with Kira." Cagalli ended the call. A few seconds later Kira ambled down the glass enclosed walkway leading to the gazebo. He stopped a good ten feet away from Lacus and half collapsed against the glass wall.

"So, how badly am I going to be re-injured once we meet up with everyone again?"

"It sounds to me like they want to keep most of the marks surface deep only." Lacus replied. She was surprised she could joke about something like that, but the past few days had seen both of their emotional responses and outlooks going topsy turvey. She could feel his eyes on her, staring hungrily. She held up a hand. "I appreciate the thought, Kira... but I really need a break."

"Yeah. Me too... my body just doesn't wanna listen to me. It's really starting to hurt. The sleeping pills aren't working either... my immune system is going hyperactive... I could probably metabolize 100 cc's of morphine without a problem right now."

"I might have to try that, if this keeps up for too much longer. I can't sleep with you hyped up like this." Lacus sighed and yawned. "Make sure you stay out of arm's reach... I think we've learned from the mistakes at breakfast, haven't we?"

"I'm really sorry about this." Kira flushed with embarassment. Well, with embarassment as well anyway. "I don't know why this is happening all of a sudden. It was fun... for the first two or three times. Now I'm starting to get kinda scared. Theres more to this than some increased aggression from a chemical imbalance caused by Frost's blood. My SEED has changed... and damn it, I didn't mean that in a sexual way, but... DAMN IT!" Kira bashed his head into the glass a few times, rather hard. "Slightly better." He sounded dazed. "As I was saying... it's changed and I don't know why. But it's affecting my entire body. It's like going through puberty again, but a thousand times as intense."

"Tell me about it. Appetite still incredible too?" Lacus asked. Kira nodded... more hung his head in further embarassment.

"We're out of chips. And apples. And soda." He admitted. "And I was starting in on the cereal again."

"How much food do we have left, do you reckon?"

"Two... three days at this pace."

Lacus shook her head in both amazement and a little trepidation... she'd bought enough food for the full two weeks on the first day. But Kira was like a bonfire in more than just mental activity... whatever was up with his physiology was using up insane amounts of energy and not just because of the sex. He'd always had a good appetite, but he was consuming close to two thousand calories a hour and had been since dinner last night. And he'd only used the bathroom twice. Lacus was seriously considering calling a doctor, because this couldn't be healthy. "We need to get out of the house. We're both going a little nuts with just the two of us."

"Good idea. Where do you want to go?" Kira thought for a few moments. "Somewhere public, but with privacy close by as a last resort. If I do slip up, I'd really, really prefer not to cause a public scene. Not only would I just about die of shame, but it wouldn't do your reputation much good either."

"I shudder to think." Lacus actually did shudder. Her fans would never forgive him. Lawsuits would probably be the least of it. An idea suddenly popped into her head. "Perfect. Go grab our jackets and an extra shirt for yourself. I'll dig up some hats, gloves and scarves."

"Where are we going?"

"Ice skating. Theres a municipal skating rink not too far from here. Ice sports are popular in the PLANTS, because making large amounts of ice is very easy for us."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be in the car after you get your own extra clothes. Maybe I can find a pair of handcuffs to keep me under control."

"Don't give me any more ideas."

Kira staggered as he walked away. "That didn't help..." He commented in a very strained voice.

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"Omigod! Are you really Lacus Clyne!?" The girl behind the skate rental counter exclaimed. "I'm a huge fan of yours! I got all your DVD's and posters!"

"Thank you." Lacus replied with a smile. She was more then used to this reaction whenever she went out in public in the PLANTS. At times it was tiresome, but right at the moment it cheered her up. Even after all the terrible events down on Earth, finding random people who unreservedly loved her made her feel good. Even if it was only a shallow love for her as a pop star. Right at the moment she wasn't going to be too picky.

"I NEED your autograph, please!" the salesgirl handed over the ice skates and then dug a photo of Lacus out of her purse. Lacus recognized the picture as one taken of her just before she'd left on the Silverwind for that fateful trip to Junius Seven that had entangled her life with Kira's and everyone elses.

"Of course." Lacus took out a pink pen and signed the back of the photo. Meanwhile, Kira rolled his eyes slightly and took the ice skates. He glanced around the resteraunt/gaming area that bordered the ice rink and rolled his eyes more heavily... people were already pointing and whispering. He'd expected this reaction, but it was still annoying. Couldn't they just let Lacus be Lacus for a little while? Of course, it wasn't like they had tried to hide who she was either... not many folks commonly wore solid pink and white clothes, especially with Lacus's rather distinctive hairstyle. With her pink knee length skirt, white socks and coat and pink scarf, mittens and fuzzy hat, Kira could already see most every age appropriate guy around drooling slightly as they looked at her. He'd expected that too, and he fought against the new reaction he had. Before he'd felt more resigned annoyance... he was getting angry today.

"Is he your boyfriend!?" Counter girl gushed, nodding at Kira.

"Yes he is." Lacus admitted, with more than a hint of pride.

"My brother is just going to die of jealousy when I tell him you already have a boyfriend."

"That'll keep me up at night." Kira muttered sarcastically. He escorted Lacus over to a bench and started putting on the ice skates. It wasn't his first time using them, but it HAD been a while. The rink was moderately crowded, most people his and Lacus's age, with the odd older couple with young children thrown in. It looked like school had ended for the day and the teen crowd was out for their daily recreation. Kira couldn't help but feel OLD looking at all the smiling, relatively carefree youths... even if he was exactly the same age as many of them. It was just the difference in life experiences... they went to school... he went to battle. It was enough to get him feeling good and melancholy. "Ready?" He asked Lacus. She nodded assent.

They were stopped twice more by autograph seeking fans before they could get to the entrance to the ice rink itself, which was less than fifteen feet from the bench they'd sat on to put on the skates. Both times were groups of girls gushing all over Lacus about how much they loved her look and songs and etc. After they did that they would ask for the autographed picture, quite why everyone was carrying a ready to be signed picture of Lacus around with them at all times mystified Kira. After the autograph the attention would turn to him... "the boyfriend". None of them talked to him directly... no, they only asked Lacus about him. It was very annoying. He felt like they considered him some sort of trophy or ornamental pet. Maybe that's what celebrity boyfriends were supposed to be, but thats not what he was to Lacus. "So this is why so many celebrities have drinking and drug problems... I might have to start drowning my tattered self esteem too, if this keeps up." Kira said out of the side of his mouth to Lacus after the second group, though he maintained a rigid smile as the girls walked away. "You think if I started wearing a sign that said "Not Decorative" they'd understand what it meant?"

"I doubt it." Lacus smiled at his irritation. "If it cheers you up any, you're being treated the same way Cagalli is when she and Athrun go out in public."

Kira winced. "So, how many people has she maimed?"

"I think she must have siphoned up all the restraint you've recently lost, because I haven't heard of any serial maimings yet."

"Thanks." Kira said, rolling his eyes slightly. He stepped out onto the ice and then twisted around so he was facing the doorway and skating backward. He'd never been much of one for practicing skating, but he was a Coordinator... and whatever was up with his body was affecting his physical abilities too. He hadn't stepped on ice in almost three years and he felt like he could probably pull off a few stunts if he tried. His balance was rock steady even though he was still exhausted. "This is just crazy..." Kira commented as Lacus stepped onto the ice as well and slid towards him, wobbling slightly as she adjusted her own balance. She held out her arms and he caught hold of them so that she wouldn't slide past him. Once she was stopped he let go, because his mind was doing funny things to him as long as was touching her directly.

"What is?" Lacus asked, slowly regaining her feel for ice skating... she hadn't been since before her father died. In reply Kira jumped in place, clicking his skates together twice before coming down on one leg and coasting in a small circle around her. She clapped her hands, impressed with the performance. "You're really good Kira, you never said anything about being good at skating."

"That's because I'm not. I haven't touched ice skates in three years, and even before then I was just a go straight and circle the rink sort of guy. I should be flat on my face right now, trying something like that." Kira sounded puzzled. "I guess its from my SEED..." Kira glanced away, apparently counting to ten. "I'm going to have to think of a codeword for that, this is getting silly... guess its from whatever happened to my you-know-what. I feel like I'm in a you-know-what rage all the time... all my senses are so sharp it kinda hurts and my physical skills are way better than they used to be."

"That's for sure." Lacus gave him a whimsical smile and pushed him so he started sliding slowly away from her. "You're starting to make Athrun and Cagalli seem prudish."

"Too much of a good thing." Kira agreed. He swerved in his backward slide to avoid a child of five or so that was racing around the edge of the rink, giggling his head off and looking back at the parent chasing him without any regard for what might be in front of him. Kira hadn't even glanced to see where the child was. As the kid passed him he almost idly reached out a hand and adjusted the kid's course so that he swerved gently around and headed back towards the relieved looking parent. Kira looked at his hand and then at the kid and then at Lacus, who gave him a sunny smile that told him she'd pretty much missed what just happened. He'd acted totally on instinct, almost no conscious thought at all. _What's happening to me?_

"Can't catch me, Kira!" Lacus suddenly took off playfully, heading away down the rink at a moderate pace. He smiled... she wasn't going to let him dwell, was she? He let her build up a little bit of a lead, and then headed after her. There was just something fun about ice skating, about how a single strong push with one leg could carry ten or twenty feet at a jogging pace with not much effort at all. Within seconds he was moving faster than he could normally run and he'd caught up to her before ten seconds passed. Putting his new abilities to the test, he whirled around her in a circle, orbiting around her even as they both continued forward, swerving and leaning to avoid the other people making their way around the edge of the rink without even bothering to look at them. She turned her head, trying to keep track of her, and he instantly decided to take the game in a new direction. He altered his circle into weaving back and forth, always staying at the edge of her vision if not fully behind her as he approached at high speed... a tactic he'd used quite often when fighting in the Freedom and Liberty.

He slipped the glove off his right and held up his pointer and middle fingers. He zoomed in towards Lacus and slipped by her close enough to rustle her clothes, elicting a small noise of startlement. As soon as he passed her he reversed his orientation so that he was skating backwards in front of her. He eyed her and kissed his two fingers and then darted his arm forward, touching his fingers to her lips for a moment. Before she could say anything he reversed orientation again and circled around behind her once more. "Looks to me like I caught you." He commented slyly. "Now I'm going to catch you again and again, if you aren't careful."

_You're not going to lose control if we play this game?_ Lacus asked inside his head. _I've no aversion to playing... really I'm already enjoying myself and this new, slightly wilder side of you immensely... but like you said... we don't want a scene._

"I can't promise to keep it all PG-13, but I think I can avoid hitting the NC-17 mark." Kira whispered in her ear, causing her to jump again... she hdn't heard him close in behind her. She tried to turn her head to give him a stern look, but as soon as she turned her head he was gone, touching a kiss to her ear as he passed. She quickly lost sight of him as he darted in and out of the other people skating around the rink, but she refused to let herself use her Newtype powers to keep track of him. That wouldn't be any fun at all... it was her job to make it hard for him, not avoid him totally. It wasn't easy, turning her head, trying to watch all directions while also skating forwards without bumping into people. She couldn't always avoid that last thing, but at least she hadn't knocked anyone over yet. She peered over her shoulder and ran into someone again.

"Pardon me..."

"No, I don't mind at all." Kira breathed, touching a kiss to her nose and slipping away again. He grinned widely... this was a lot of fun. And it helped work off some of the tension his body was now constantly creating, while also providing a positive outlet for some energy. Not that what they did at night wasn't positive... but like he'd said earlier... too much of a good thing was still bad. He worked his way around behind her again and waited for her to look away before sliding in close. This time he gave her just a little pinch, so fast an observer would have had to been specifically watching for it to see it. He stopped and ducked behind a group of teens as Lacus squeaked, wobbled and whipped her head around, face flushed as she hunted for him, clapping a hand to her rear in an instinctual but entirely too late reaction. He'd be paying for the pinches later he knew, but he just couldn't resist.

Their little teasing game probably would have continued in the same vein for quite a while if other teenage hormones hadn't decided to get involved. Specifically in the form of one high school track star, goaded by his friends, accepting a twenty dollar bet that he wouldn't be brazen enough to go over and cop a feel of Lacus's ass as she skated along. He figured he had little enough to fear... the rink was reasonably crowded, he should be able to slip up behind her without being noticed, and a quick apology and lie about having slipped would be enough to cover his own ass, assuming she even managed to discover it was him. And the opportunity was once in a lifetime... how many times could a single guy be lucky enough to see the teengirl pop idol of the century skating along alone in a pink skirt that just begged for a sly touch? The guy got into position and licked his lips, studying the goods... damn but she was FINE! He steeled himself, well aware that his friends were watching and expecting him to chicken out, but he wasn't going to lose twenty bucks... or this near unique chance to do what almost no guy had ever done before.

"Kira!" Lacus twisted around again, pouting because she was going to have to tell Kira to stop, that he was losing control again. Touched kisses and little pinches were fine...groping her rear was entirely too far. But it wasn't Kira snatching his hand away, it was some guy she'd never seen before, a lanky high schooler with short red hair and brown eyes. Lacus felt her jaw drop open slightly... she'd just been molested by a guy in public! Some random stranger had taken it into his head to get fresh and had actually succeeded! She knew that people sometimes tried things like this, but she'd never expected it to happen to HER. She debated shouting at the guy, but she really didn't want to make a scene... not just because it would be embarassing for her, but because she didn't know if Kira had seen what happened. Pre-injury Kira would have been bad enough... he'd probably get in the guys face and bawl him out... today's Kira... Lacus really hoped he hadn't seen that.

"Oops, sorry. Slipped!" The red head muttered unconvincingly, flushing as red as his hair at being caught. It was one thing to grab some ass... it was entirely another to get caught by the ass you grabbed. You could get jail time for that, especially when the ass was a major celebrity. He brushed past her and broke for the rink exit with no delay... the act had been witnessed, he could collect any time and his rep was going to be huge now. Everyone on the track team was going to worship him. _Oh my god though, what an ass... what I would give to be her boyfriend!_

"That was a major error, dumbass." Someone hissed into his ear. He started and tried to turn, but by then it was too late... he'd just lifted his left skate to bring it forward after pushing off when whoever the other guy was behind him... probably the boyfriend of Lacus, he realized with a start, who was sure to be unamused by that little display... kicked the back of his skate, turning it so the front edge of the skate dug sharply into the ice and caught, wrenching his ankle terribly and sending him sprawling onto his face, busting his nose and leaving a bloody smear on the ice as he slid headfirst into the rink wall with a resounding "THUNK", knocking himself out. His little bet had just won him a hundred dollar medical bill and the chance to miss his next track meet because of the damage to his left ankle, but he wouldn't realize that for at least an hour.

Kira appeared next to Lacus, looking nonchalant. They both stared at the high schooler lying unconscious and bleeding on the ice as his friends clustered around, making a big huzzah as they slowly pulled him off the ice and worked to revive him. "Did you push him, Kira?" Lacus asked as they skated past.

"Didn't lay a hand on him." Kira replied, straight faced. It was true, he'd only kicked the guy's skate. "Serve's him right if someone had pushed him though, pulling a stunt like that on a public ice rink... no decency at all. Broken nose, twisted ankle and a minor concussion... I think that's about an even trade for an unsolicited touch of something that didn't belong to him."

"Mmm." Lacus made a noncommittal noise. _I know Kira did whatever happened to that guy... he took him down with no hesitation at all. Part of me is glad he did, too. Looks like we've both lost something of our forgiving natures, haven't we Kira?_ "Just try not to make a habit of being overprotective, okay? I appreciate the thought, but I could have handled that myself."

"I didn't lay a hand on him!" Kira repeated, draping an arm over Lacus's shoulders and pulling her slightly closer. He looked around fiercely, meeting the gaze of several other guys as he did so. _Yeah. Hands off, or you'll get what he got. Or worse. I'm not in the mood._

"Kira?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's get off the ice. I'm getting all sorts of overheated all of a sudden."

"Okay, I'll go get us some cold drin..."

"A different sort of overheated, Kira. That game was very... exciting."

"The car it is then."

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Styling her hair by herself was a multi-hour long chore, but she'd persisted. Kira had been planning this night ever since they'd come back from the ice rink five days ago. He'd said that he wanted at least one night of traditional romance... a real dinner date, or almost real anyway, since the food was ordered in. Playing idle games of pinch and kiss, or another of the other lover's games they spent way too much time doing these days was all well and good, but Kira wanted something special. Something they could both look back on with fond memories for a long time. Lacus had her formal, opera house class performing clothing all laid out on the bed for when she was done with her hair. Getting into it without a servant's help was going to take some contortion on her part, but she knew she'd be able to get it eventually. Kira had used some of the money Alkire had given them, which hadn't turned out to be needed for medical bills since he'd recovered on his own quite rapidly, to buy himself a set of formal wear of similar quality to hers. He was currently elsewhere in the house, probably in one of the guest rooms getting ready himself, or adjusting some of the finer details he'd prepared. She hadn't been out of her room since noon, both to give him time to set up and because getting ready by herself just took that long.

Kira had finally won some measure of control over the changes his body was going through, which they were both starting to realize weren't going to fade with time. Whatever the emotional and chemical stress of his encounter with the Pulsar's OS and Frost's blood had done to him was a permanent change and they were just going to have to live with it. It required a lot of work on his part, and the assistance of medication, at least for the meanwhile, but he'd finally worked out how to get some rest. It wasn't quite deep sleep... more like a self trance or meditation, but it let his body recover and heal, and perhaps more importantly tuned down his mental emnations so Lacus could sleep as well. It also helped regulate his bodily functions somewhat, cutting back on the rampant sex drive and ravenous appetite... though he still suffered from them both and probably always would. They were going to have some pretty interesting explaining to do to everyone else when they got back together... so far Lacus had managed to give people the impression Kira was just hornier than usual because of some relationship issues... she wasn't sure how they were going to explain the appetite or some of the other changes.

As far as Kira was able to determine, his new "normal" state of activity was roughly equivalent to what he'd been at in the throes of a SEED rage. He was faster, stronger, less susceptible to pain or fatigue, thought faster, had much keener senses and an immune/metabolic system that was just insane... he wasn't sure he could even get drunk anymore, assuming he ever wanted to. And all of this was without much of any change to his actual physical body. He gained a little bit of muscle, a few pounds here and there, but it was hardly noticeable unless you knew him well and it certainly didn't fully account for the level of increase in his abilities. And those were just the physical changes... on the mental side of things he was almost like an entirely different person. He was still a Latent Newtype, Lacus was still able to contact him and feel his emotions like before... but there was a lot more to it than before. Now when he shielded himself she couldn't break through. And when he sent her emotions or thoughts, he had to be careful not to send too strongly, or else he gave her headaches and dizziness. She'd always been able to pick him out from the minds around him... but now he almost drowned out the other minds, making them hard to see beside his brilliance.

He hadn't dared actually try and enter a SEED rage since he'd confronted Lacus by the lake. He knew he still had the capability, but he was truly afraid of what might occur. He'd debated calling Athrun to talk to him about it, but what really was there to ask? The fact was none of them knew pretty much anything at all about the SEED. They knew how to use it to boost their abilities in times of great need. That was all. And calling Athrun up to say "Hey, Athrun, did your SEED suddenly sprout silvery roots too?" just didn't sound like a conversation starter he wanted to deal with right now. Kira shrugged and pulled on his tuxedo jacket. He'd worry about it another time... right now he had better things to concentrate on. with a last second glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place, Kira walked out of the guest room he'd been using as a staging area and did a last second sweep of the house, ensuring everything was in place. Lacus should be getting close to being done dressing soon.

All the windows in the house were polarized to make it seem like night time. The PLANTS had twenty four hour a day sunlight, except during scheduled rains, which took some getting used to. It wasn't as hard for Kira as it was for people like Raine or Alkire, sinced he'd lived on Heliopolis, which also had constant daylight, like most space colonies, but it still took him by surprise every so often. All the lights in the house were on their dimmest operable setting, just bright enough to cast shadows. He'd decided on a candlelight dinner... cliche perhaps but he was glad to play to a stereotype this time. He'd also added his own twist by supergluing candles to the tops of Lacus's prismatic herd of Haro robots. He'd forgotten just how many of the bouncy little things Athrun had made... they seemed to breed like mice, always more of them around every time he looked twice. He watched the flickering flames of the candles bobbing through the air and wondered, a little late, if it was too much of a fire hazard. He'd just have to trust to luck... the things seemed to enjoy playing chase with him and it would take hours to catch them all.

He checked the music selection he'd loaded into the house's sound system and then went to inspect the food, ordered from a place called Norman's Grill. He'd been sceptical about ordering from a place that sounded like a streetcorner burger joint, but then he'd actually looked at the menu. The place could serve burgers... but then again they could serve pretty much ANYTHING, depending on how much you wanted to pay. Kira was no gourmet, he'd been totally lost looking at all the choices, many of which he couldn't even pronounce properly. Just a simple farmboy from a backwater planet, that was him. Lacus had to do the ordering. He still wasn't entirely sure what the food was, other than it was meat and it smelled incredibly good. Standing in the gazebo he heard the minute creak of hinges as Lacus stepped out of the master bedroom onto the second story interior balcony. He made haste to return to the main entrance foyer.

Lacus was standing at the top of the stairs, looking almost like a fairy tale princess in her sparkling white and purple and gold dress. Her hair was artfully twisted up on her head and secured in place with golden sticks, leaving only two wisps to dangle down on either side of her face, each wisp had gold and crystal beads woven into it. The dress was slit on either side, showing off the outside of her legs from the midthigh to just above the waist and as she slowly turned in a circle for his viewing pleasure he saw how the dress plunged in the back to just below the waistline. Kira put a hand out to steady himself on the banister, his knees having gone momentarily unsteady. He almost fell over because he missed... driven to distraction didn't even begin to cover it. It didn't matter that he'd seen Lacus in a lot less, in nothing at all... she looked GOOD in that dress, there was just something to the way the clothing concealed yet also revealed that had his mouth watering something fierce. He clamped down firmly on his body and mind... this was a romantic dinner date, he had to behave... at least for a while.

For her part, Lacus was no less happy with what she saw. She'd not actually seen all of Kira's formal wear until just this moment. He wore solid black slacks with a knife sharp crease along the seams and mirror polish black leather dress shoes, with a starched white shire and crimson vest underneath the black tuxedo jacket, one of the ones with two long tails in back. A red rose boutenniere was attached to his left breast pocket, while a gold watch chain looped out of his right breast pocket, attaching to the button hole with a tiny clasp. Instead of a tie or cummerbund, Kira wore a short white silk scarf that hung down about six inches down his chest, secured with a black ribbon tied in a simple bow with the long ends left to dangle. He was just restraightening a magnificent black silk top hat on his head with white gloved hands as she completed her turn... he looked slightly flustered, which brought a smile to her lips... what more compliment did she need?

Lacus slowly descended the stairs, her smile broadening as she saw that the bobbing lights she'd spied as soon as she stepped out of the master bedroom were her beloved Haro's, each with a candle affixed to the top of their head, slowly bouncing and fluttering around the foyer, almost like large fireflies in the dusky gloom. They were almost totally silent except for the sound of their "wing" discs flapping... Kira had obviously disabled their voice circuits for the night while attaching the candles. Kira proffered a gloved hand as soon as she reached the bottom of the staircase, which she gladly took. It was still too early for dinner, so plainly there was something else planned. "Dance with me awhile, milady?" Kira said with a fierce smile.

"Little ole me'd be honored to, sir." Lacus replied, as Kira touched a control in his pocket and started the sound system. Lacus didn't recognize the song... it sounded vaguely classical but there were some electronic instruments as well. "What song is this?"

"It's a remake of a song called Pat-a-Pan, by an ancient band called Mannheim Steamroller." Kira replied. "Technically it's christmas music, but I like it anyway."

"You do remember that I'm a professional performing artist, Kira... are you ready for that?"

"I'm the one who asked you to dance... I think I have the talent to pick it up fast." Kira took her in his arms, adjusting his stance continually as he moved, adapting in real time to her movements. It took him most of the song, but by the end he was twirling her around and matching her step for step... he really could learn fast when he put his mind to it. Having the reflexes of a SEED mode Coordinator certainly didn't hurt. The song ended and a new one began.

"Another unfamiliar one... you're determined to be different." Lacus noted.

"Brave Willing is the title of the song. Author unknown, I found it by accident on the net. Feels right for our outfits."

"So what is the plan for tonight? Dancing, drinks, food, conversation?"

"Something along those lines." Kira was careful not to think about what was in his right breast pocket. He didn't think Lacus was listening to his mind, but he really, really didn't want to ruin the surprise. It was all about the surprise, as Athrun had showed him so long ago in Switzerland. Some might question the timing, given the small rift that had opened between him and Lacus recently, but he wasn't willing to wait any longer... his near death experience in the Pulsar had shown him his own mortality and he wasn't going to leave anything to chance if he could help it. The third song started.

"This sounds like another christmas one... nice bells... interesting instrument..."

"Rendition of Carol of the Bells, by the performing artist Cast in Bronze... the instrument is like a giant church organ but each press of a key rings a bell instead of passing air through a pipe. I forget the name of it." Kira whirled her around again, enjoying the way her hair seemed to gain a life of its own, outlined ever so briefly against the slowly dipping and rising lights of the Haro-candles. Instead of stopping the whirl he dropped his hands to her waist and went around a second time, this time lifting her off the ground. Not dizzy enough yet and loving the way she was laughing in delight, Kira twisted into several more turn arounds, spinning like a top as he edged towards the door leading to the gazebo. Finally the song ended and he let her down to the ground again. They both stood there, slightly out of breath, leaning into each other for support as they recovered from the spinning. Kira turned off the sound system for the moment and tilted his head down, stealing a brief kiss. "Now, for those drinks you mentioned." He herded her towards the doorway, reaching up with his other hand to send his top hat spinning away to land on the nearest bannister post... sometimes he was so good he scared himself.

The gazebo was also polarized to make it seem like late a night. Kira allowed three of the candle-Haro's to follow them before he shut the door and kept the rest in the foyer... the last thing they needed was a fleet of the things bouncing into the food during dinner. Two fluted glasses and a bottle of iced sparkling pear-apple juice awaited them, as well as the food laid out on its heated plates. Kira pulled out the chair for Lacus and poured her a glass before sitting down and doing likewise for himself. He could have had a bottle of any wine he wanted on the table... Norman's cellar was massive... but neither he or Lacus drank, so he'd opted for the sparkling juice instead. He'd intended to talk during dinner... just make conversation, nothing weighty, but the food stopped him. It was just too incredible not to devote nearly his entire attention to. He still wasn't sure what it was... some form of steak in a garlic sauce... but the name didn't matter. They could call it "Horse Shank Rolled in Rubbish", if it tasted like this he'd eat it without hesitating.

After dinner he stood up and guided Lacus back into the house. She was giving him a significant look, so he realized that he must not have been hiding his emotional trepidation as well as he'd thought. She was expecting something, but the gig wasn't up yet. They slow danced to the first song, both too full for the energetic dancing of before dinner. The song was good for it, another purely instrumental piece called "Reflection" by a band called L'ArcenCiel. Throughout the song he kept them moving ever so slowly towards the staircase again, so that by the time the song ended Lacus was actually standing on a step above him. "I get the feeling you're building up to something, Kira." Lacus said quietly. At about the middle point of the song she'd removed her hairsticks, letting her hair return to its natural style, like a waterfall from the back of her head.

"Can't hide anything from you, love." Kira kissed her, long and deeply. His right hand rose and fingered the chain hanging from his right pocket. The next song was called "The Sky", another Mannheim Steamroller piece. Very quiet and unobtrusive. Perfect background music. Kira backed away from the kiss and dropped to one knee in front of her, right hand unslipping the chain from the ring at the end of it. Leaving the chain to dangle for the moment, he held the ring up to her. The stone wasn't really that large, but it still seemed to drink in the dim light from the candles and return it brighter than it received it. A plain band of white gold with a pinky nail sized star ruby cut into the shape of a blossoming rose... not the traditional diamond engagement ring, but Kira could hardly do tradition given what sort of example Athrun had shown him. And if a friend insisted on giving you a large amount of free money, he figured he might as well spend it on something special. An awful lot of it, as it turned out... but it wasn't like he'd had much else to spend the money on...

"Kira...!" Lacus gasped. She'd been expecting something... but not a proposal. She remembered her talk with Cagalli back in Switzerland when her friend had found out Athrun was going to propose. She smiled inwardly... it was true, she couldn't imagine ever loving Kira any less... only more. A ring was nothing more than a sign to others. Even if her breath was catching a bit, looking at the gesture.

"I don't think either of us really need to say too many words, do we, Lacus?" Kira said quietly. "We're already connected on a far deeper level than a ring... but I want the whole world to know. I want it official and in the open. I know we have our problems, but every couple does. I can not imagine loving anyone else but you, Lacus Clyne. Please marry me."

"Of COURSE!" Lacus threw her arms around him and almost sent them both spilling to the ground. She knew she was crying again, but she didn't care. "I love you so much too, Kira. I hadn't expected it this soon, but we both know what we are to each other, what we always will be to each other!"

"I don't have any suave speeches like Athrun does, nor do I have a suite reserved at some mountaintop retreat somewhere." Kira slowly rose to his feet, slipping the ring onto her finger as he did so. He picked her up and carried her in his arms. "I do however have a soft bed waiting upstairs if that will be acceptable?"

"The only thing that's not acceptable is the fact that we aren't there yet!"

"Mission accepted."

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"There it is. I thought she would never let it out of her sight." Noah mumbled in annoyance. His Newtype powers were on mirror reflect stealth mode again... otherwise Lacus would already know he was in the area. She was stronger than she'd been on the Moon. He'd have to keep working himself... he couldn't let her get stronger than him. He steadied the small but powerful crossbow and drew a bead on the target. Another minute passed before it hopped into range. The pink Haro never even knew what hit it, even if it somehow had the capacity to realize it had been hit, which it didn't. The armor piercing bolt rammed through the plastic outer shell and punched almost entirely through the most empty inside before losing its momentum. The Haro squeaked and fritzed static from its voicebox before rolling silent and dead on the ground. Noah wasted no time in dragging it back to him by the monofilament line attached to the butt end of the crossbow bolt. He pulled the dead machine into the bushes just inside the wall of the Clyne estate and inspected it. Except for a weird temporary waxy deposit on the top, it was an exact match.

"All right Melanie, this is where we part ways, at least for a while. Remember, you must not be found out or else you'll have to self destruct. That means no talking outside the limited voice circuit unless you're alone with me. And you're only allowed to use the taser needles to preserve your own or Lacus's life, understand?"

"Yes Noah." The Pink Haro he'd brought with him rolled on the ground in a tight circle. "I remember. How long will we be apart?" Melanie asked sulkily.

"Shouldn't be more than a month at a time." Noah said off hand. He really had no idea... probably years... but he wasn't going to tell Melanie that. She could only remember about a week at a time anyway in circuit form, except for deeply encoded instructions and code word activated programs. "Just blend in and listen. I'm envious of you, actually... you'll get to experience history first hand that the rest of us only get to watch on TV, if at all."

"And Merlin will be nearby if I get in trouble?"

"Sometimes. You'll be able to hear him when he's around, but other people won't hear his frequency."

"Mr. Pink! Mr. Pink! Where'd you go, Mr. Pink?" Lacus started calling from around the other side of the house.

"That's your cue. Good luck Melanie. Thank you very much for your help, I love you very much." Noah whispered. He pushed Melanie the Pink Haro out of the bushes. For a moment he was afraid she wouldn't leave, but then the ball hopped rapidly away and disappeared around the corner of the house.

"There you are, Mr. Pink! Where'd you get off too, we almost left you behind? Have you been playing with the neighbor's cats again?" Lacus's voice faded somewhat. "Kira, I found him!"

"That's good." Noah could almost hear how Kira was rolling his eyes. There was a brief silence. "OW! MY NOSE!"

"Kira! Are you okay!? Mr. Pink, I'm surprised at you! You jumped right into Kira's face, you naughty robot! You're in time out now!"

"Guess even the robots are getting jealous now... that's funny though, they've never objected to me kissing you before. Oh well, guess that just gives me an excuse to shut them out of the bedroom now."

"Oooh... I like them though..."

Author Note: So yeah, I hope this satisfies all you rabid Kira fans. Thanks for the idea, Rihaku and anyone else who suggested a change to Kira caused by Frost's blood. Oh yes, if any of you are budding manga artists by any chance, if you could draw me a picture of Kira in that tux I described and put a link to it in a review... that'd be pretty cool.


	97. Of Mice and Men

"So this is what your house looks like. I hate to say it, but I'm slightly disappointed. I didn't expect it to fit the stereotypical rich kid mold so perfectly." Cagalli commented, hands on her hips as she stood outside the main doors to the Zala estate. And an estate it was... at least ten acres of property, mostly woodlands with a small lake... fenced in with a long half moon drive, the house itself was two stories and looked to have at least ten to fifteen rooms per floor, and this was just what she could see from the front. On Earth it probably would have been the primary house of a major CEO or entertainment star... on the PLANTS, with living space still at a premium in most cases, it was absolutely princely. And it was, for most intents and purposes, totally abandoned. No one lived there, and hadn't for more than a year now.

"Well, technically speaking, it isn't MY house, it's my father's house. MY house is a four room, one bed one bath condo on Maius Two, just off the base limits." Athrun replied, gathering up their bags. "But I didn't think you'd want to live there for two weeks, so we came here."

"Hiding some embarassing secrets at your place? Pictures you don't want me to see? Old girlfriend's phone numbers?" Cagalli teased.

"Wouldn't do me any good to try and hide stuff from you... you'd just find some way to go there anyway." Athrun muttered, looking up at the big house uneasily... ever since he'd moved out and started drifting away from his father... no scratch that, ever since his mother died on the Bloody Valentine... he just didn't feel at home here. "And you're far more likely to find embarassing stuff here, at least if my father kept my room in pristine condition and didn't have it all locked away or burned after he arrested me as a traitor." Which was a mood killing thought if there ever was one. He and his father had parted on much less than friendly terms... who could know what sort of actions his father had taken in the last few weeks before his death at Jachin Due. He'd been only marginally rational after all.

Cagalli seemed to sense the downward turn in his demeanor and she obviously refused to let him dwell and get into what Ysak affectionately called a "deep blue funk". "Well, we won't figure out anything just standing out here gawking at the front facade. Take me inside, show me around, give me the tour. I haven't forgetten that little trip you made us take when we went to Orb to rescue Kisaka... I've been waiting a long time to get you back for that."

"Speaking of... you think you'll be able to withstand a full two weeks without your guardian looking over your shoul..."

"Walk, before I render you unable."

"That voyeurism of yours is going to get us in trou... walking, walking!" Athrun led the way into the house, using the bags under each arm as a shield to prevent Cagalli from getting close enough to pummel him too mercilessly. The grand entranceway was dark. Dust covers had been thrown over most of the furniture. The house was dead silent, but it smelled nice and obviously the maintenance staff had been in periodically because there was no dust covering anything. The carpets were vacuumed, the rugs swept, all the woodwork polished... if it weren't for the slightly harsh chemical scent of the cleaning agents and the utter lack of any noise, it would be impossible to tell that the place was unoccupied. There were a lot of memories to this place... almost all of them good. Athrun smiled in nostalgia.

"Hurry up, damnit! Don't just stand there with that dopey smile on your face!" Cagalli prompted, shattering the daydream. "There will be plenty of time for you to stand around looking into the past... but right now isn't that time, capiche?"

"Yeah. I'd accuse you of having no soul, you slavedriver, but I can't lie that easily or that much without choking on it."

"I'll give you another reason to choke if you don't hurry up! We don't have all day!"

"Yes we do."

"That's not the point! Show me stuff, tell me about the house! All of it, right now!"

"On the ground floor we have several studies, the kitchen, the pantry, the main entrance here, two bathrooms, the dining room, the entertaining room and the exercise room. Upstairs are the master bed and bath, my room, my rest room, four guest rooms, my father's private study, another entertainment room, and several storage spaces. There's also a cellar which has more storage space and is where most of the machinery for the house is kept. The house was built in C.E. 55 to serve as the Atlantic Federation embassy, but they demanded a residence on Aprilius at the last moment, and thus the house went up for auction, with my father ending up the winner... though my family is still paying off the loan and will be for quite some time. Moving on to the outside..." Athrun trailed off, well attuned to the warning signs to look for with Cagalli.

"Why you literal..." When Cagalli started trailing off on her threats, that was a sure sign that physical action was imminent. The only thing that was worse than an incomplete threat was dead silence, dead silence usually meaning she was actually upset. Athrun wasted no time in dropping the bags at the foot of the grand staircase so as not to encumber him. Even as he saw the light dawn in Cagalli's eyes as she realized that he'd been deliberately provoking her, Athrun was already running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was almost entirely up before he heard her start running after him. "Athrun!"

"Is someone yelling at me? I can barely hear her, way back there!" Athrun called over his shoulder as he headed for the door to his room. He reached it with plenty of time to spare... Cagalli was just reaching the top stair as he reached out for the doorknob. Then he hit a snag, unfortunately. The door wouldn't open. It was locked. But why would anyone lock a door from the inside if there was no way to open it again...? "Damn it, father, hiding from problems and sweeping them under the rug ISN'T the way to solve them!" He rattled the door, but the lock was as firm as the day it was installed. He was just turning to try and stall Cagalli when she hit him with a flying tackle. He'd lost track of the seconds for a brief time. He was used to getting run into or tackled by Cagalli. It actually happened to him relatively often. She enjoyed it, he knew. Enjoyed running into another human being at full tilt and perhaps ramming them into something. It was an odd little psychoses, but he didn't generally complain... only very rarely did she actually cause damage, and almost never to him.

She slammed him back into the door hard enough to leave a bruise on his shoulderblades, but that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was that the door was merely a door. Just a plain wooden door, with a simple lock and two hinges on the inside edge. It wasn't designed to resist bodies slamming into it. It certainly didn't hold up to the running charge Cagalli put into it... the hinges may have been in slight disrepair because they snapped with twin gunshot bangs and so the door fell inwards with a huge "WHUMP!" of displaced air, with a resigned Athrun holding a surprised Cagalli lying on top of it. The rooms lighting, detecting movement, slowly turned on, revealing what had been Athrun's room until a little after his sixteenth birthday.

"We've been here what... three minutes, tops, and already you've found a way to leave your mark on the place." Athrun said after a few moments. He waited for her to work up a reply. "Why'd it take so long?" He asked, just as she was opening her mouth to apologize.

"Uh... I... ah... hmm..." Cagalli stammered, obviously blindsided by his good humor. "I broke your door." She admitted.

"Indeed you did. Blasted it right off the hinges almost intact." Athrun acknowledged. "If there were anyone else actually living here, they might be upset." He looked around the room, though admittedly it did look slightly odd, since his perspective usually wasn't one of lying on the ground in front of the doorway, especially since the door opened inwards and that was a good way to get hit by it. "As things are... well, except for the door, this room is pristine. I'm sure you'll have a field day."

"Are you sure it's okay that I broke your door?" Cagallisaid quietly, rolling off him so that he could rise as well. She seemed almost bashful... which was again standard Cagalli. Everything was fun and games until someone got hurt or something got broken, and then she'd realize how "immature" she'd been acting... as if it wasn't okay for a seventeen year old to be "immature" at times, and she'd get embarassed about it.

"Who's going to mind? I was thinking of sleeping in the master bedroom anyway... its much nicer. Bigger bed and everything. Really, its fine. Nothing a half hour of physical labor won't fix."

"Master bedroom huh? I knew that was a load of bull!"

"Knew what was a load of bull?" Athrun asked, feeling excluded somehow.

"Dearka swore on everything he ever held sacred that it was one of the greatest dreams of every guy to make love to their girlfriend in their own bed! He assured me that the very first night you'd be sure to ask me to sleep in your old bed." she answered. Athrun started chewing on his lip to hold in the laughter the instant she said "Dearka swore". Though, to be entirely honest, it did appeal, in a twisted sense.

"Dearka likes to make very generalized predictions based off his own personal experiences and outlooks." Athrun replied. "Because he knows it bugs me, and absolutely drives Ysak up the walls. You should know better than to talk to him about romantic matters by now... despite how he makes it sound, what he doesn't know about women and men in love will fill an almanac... all the volumes of an almanac."

"Who the heck else am I supposed to talk to when I want a different perspective on you, when it comes to romance? The officers don't know you very well, the same for Miriallia. Ysak's about as romantically observant as a lump on a log and Katie is entirely too lecherous. Kira... lets not even get into Kira. I suppose I could ask Lacus, but you and she were never really "romantic"... sure you brought her gifts and kissed her cheek, but there wasn't much feeling there and you both knew it! Who does that leave, besides Dearka?"

"When you put it that way, I suppose. Just try and remember to take everything his says with a few grains of salt... nothing would tickle his fancy more than setting up an embarassing misunderstanding between us, maybe even especially a romantic one." Athrun paused a more more moments and then smiled. "Though now that you mention it, my bed IS right there. Oof!" He pulled away from the fist she punched into his side. "Look, its my room, look!"

Cagalli allowed herself to be drawn off into an inspection of Athrun's room. In some ways it was a very plain room... simple maroon carpet, with off white walls featuring ocher siding and wallpaper, giving her the impression she was walking in the heart of a volcano. The furniture was mostly wood, either painted white or left unpainted to show the natural light color. There was a single black and blue rolling office chair in front of the computer desk, and an all metal easle with large sheets of graphing paper attached to it next to a medium sized whiteboard. Underneath both of those was a long metal toolbox, while several other storage chests and boxes lined up on the walls nearby looked to hold neatly ordered and organized bins of various electrical and mechanical components. The bed they'd joked about was adjacent to one of the windowless walls, a simple twin bed with clothing drawers built into the space underneath it. The sheets were beige and the outer cover was fire engine red with images of race cars on it in various colors.

"Race cars? How old is that comforter?" Cagalli asked, staring at it as she poked at his compter keyboard.

"About a year and a half younger than me." Athrun admitted. "Go ahead, get it out of your system now. Yes, I was a 16 year old geek who still slept with the race car blanket he had in grade school. Go ahead, before you burst a vein holding it in."

"No, no, I'm not going to laugh. It's cute." Cagalli smiled widely. "Though if I pull it back and find a stuffed animal under there somewhere, then I'm going to be rolling on the ground."

"I never slept with any stuffed animals. I couldn't get to sleep with them in the bed... always gave me bad dreams."

"But you did have stuffed animals, right... thats what you just admitted?"

Athrun sighed and opened the door leading to the walk in closet. "Voila." He gestured at the veritable zoo of various sized plushy animals, ranging in size from barely as big as his hand to bigger than a five year old child. "You now know my deepest, darkest secret."

"You can make light of it, but all it would take is one wrong word from me and both Ysak and Dearka won't leave it alone until you leave them bleeding on the ground. And probably not even then. If they didn't have their inferiorty complexes with regard to you, they'd probably lose fifteen percent of their daily activity right off the mark."

"They don't have inferiority complexes. They just desire to be the best, and are slightly insecure about it when I'm around."

"Which is about a perfect desciption of an inferiority complex. But don't worry, I won't tell them. Believe it or not, I don't like it when people pick on you. People other than me, anyway."

"That's comforting."

"So what are their names?"

"Hmm?"

"Nobody collects that many stuffed animals and doesn't name them."

"Look at that, he didn't even change the drawings I had up. My god, its been forever since I last thought about that design." Athrun nodded at his engineering graph paper.

"Don't change the subject on me!" Cagalli protested, but then her eye caught on what Athrun was indicating and prompted a new line of interrogation. "Though that brings up another good point. You like making things, right Athrun? Working with your hands, putting things together, designing toys, that sort of thing?"

"It's a better hobby than most I can think of." Athrun replied warily.

"Yeah it is. You made Lacus all those annoying Haro's and you made Kira Birdy. Now I just have one question."

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to make for me? And it better not be a prismatic bouncing softball that spouts inappropriate phrases, or a tiny little bird!"

"Well gee, I was just thinking about going with one of those old favorites... guess I might actually have to use my staggering brainpower for once and come up with something creative." Athrun was about to go on when his ears caught a faint sound. A scratching almost. It was very faint, so faint Cagalli obviously couldn't hear it. It was coming from the bathroom. "Hold this conversation a moment."

"What? Why?"

"I hear something." Athrun cautiously made his way over to the bathroom door. He opened it, turned on the light and peered inside. Nothing to see. But he could have sworn he'd heard scartching. He stepped fully into the room and heard the noise again. And then the source of the noise moved into plain view. "AAGGHH!" Cagalli looked up at the shout of surprise tinged with fear, to see Athrun come barreling out of the bathroom to press himself awkwardly up against the far wall of his room.

"What!? What's wrong?"

"A-a-a... a RAT! In the bathroom!" Athrun glared at the doorway leading to the room in question. "I ha..."

"Hate rats, I know. You've already told me about the bad experience you had with a pack of them when you were young." Cagalli sighed and stood up, heading for the bathroom. One of them needed to be the grown up anyway. "But don't you think this is a little ridiculous? You're seventeen going on eighteen... you can't be afraid of rats forever." Cagalli stalked into the bathroom and looked down. She couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, and she couldn't stop.

"What's so damn funny!? Step on it or kick it or... just get rid of it!" Athrun demanded.

"Step on the rat?" Cagalli asked, crouching down to pick up the terrified creature. She could feel it trembling in the palms of her hands. "Shh, its okay. Don't let that scaredy cat out there frighten you. Nothing's going to hurt you, little guy." Cagalli cooed softly. She cupped her hands over it and stepped out of the bathroom. "That's a little violent don't you think? Rat's have lives too."

"Yes, which they are welcome to keep, as long as they stay away from MINE!" Athrun slowly pushed himself away from the wall. "Nasty things, scuttling through the walls, carrying who knows what sorts of diseases..." He watched Cagalli step over to him suddenly.

"Athrun?" Cagalli held out her hands towards him.

"Yes?"

"This isn't a rat." Cagalli uncupped her hands.

"YEEGH!" Athrun flattened himself against the wall again with a loud "BANG". "You didn't step on it!? Keep it away!"

Cagalli didn't comply, instead stepping closer and holding her hands up towards where Athrun was trying to osmose through the wall. "Athrun, you're frightening it. It's even more scared than you are. Look at it, it's so terrified its shaking." Cagalli nodded her head at the tiny white furred rodent with blue eyes nestled in the palm of her left hand. It was barely as big as her thumb. "It's a mouse, you big baby."

"Mouse, Rat... four legged disease vectoring rodent with a bare tail and nippy teeth... keep it away!" Athrun closed his eyes and turned his head away. He could almost feel the phantom scratches on his arms and face and chest, from when he was five and he got mauled by a feral pack of rats while exploring one of the warehouses of his uncle's company. Mauled might be too strong a term... excessively scratched and nipped was closer to the truth, but he'd been five and it had been dark and he'd been very frightened. He still had bad dreams about rolling around in a small dark space while furry squeaking THINGS took chunks out of his flesh and laughed at him through their beady red eyes.

"All right, I give up. You can kill him now, while he's paralyzed with fear. Good riddance too."

"Uhm, okay... just hand me a book."

"I was talking to the MOUSE, scaredy cat." Cagalli retorted. "I'm not going to let you murder a defenceless mouse who's too scared to even run away."

"Listen, Cagalli... I don't question you when you're frightened by a... by a... uhm..."

"Yeah, that's right, isn't it? Bugs and snakes and rats and all those icky things don't bother me at all, remember? Spider, rat, centipede, slug... it's just a tiny life form, some of them are even good to eat. Leeches and other blood sucking parasites I do try and steer clear of, but that's mainly because they generally do spread diseases. Look at this little guy. Have you ever seen anything as cute and harmless and inoffensive as this tiny white mouse?"

"It has teeth and claws and..."

"Athrun, my skin is FAR softer than yours and it barely even tickles. You could give yourself a worse wound with a papercut than this guy could ever inflict with his chompers. If a mouse lifespan wasn't so short, I'd adopt this little guy as our new pet, but he won't live more than a year more if he doesn't get killed by a cat, rat, some other type of predator, a gutless coordinator five hundred times his size or has some other life ending accident." Cagalli brought her hands up to her face and gently rubbed her cheek against the mouse. "Soft fur... he's real nice, Athrun. I'm going to go put him back in the bathroom, since he probably lives nearby. As soon as you recover your manhood, you can sit down in that chair and start working on a suitable mechanical pet for me. Something small and unobtrusive... last thing I need is a Haro bouncing around in a legislative meeting. I dunno... something kinda like this little mouse, ya know?"

"Recover my manhood?" Athrun muttered, pulling away from the wall as Cagalli walked back into the bathroom, whispering encouraging noises at the mouse. "Ouch. One more reason to hate rats... they make me look like a fool in front of Cagalli..."

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"Hurry up! Aren't you ready yet!?" Cagalli shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "What sort of guy takes longer to get ready than a girl!?"

"Why are you always in so much of a rush?" Athrun called back, running the comb a few more times through his recently dampened hair. "Rush to get to my house, rush to look around inside, rush to unpack, rush to get a robotic pet... which I CAN'T MAKE INSTANTLY... rush to get ready to go out on the town... rush, rush, RUSH!"

"You've had three days! How complex can it be? I thought you were supposed to be a GENIUS with making those things!?"

"I AM a genius when it comes to making robotic pets... how many other flying robotic birds do you see around? None, that's right, because no one else makes them! But I don't make them by snapping together tinker toys! Ones that are custom ordered by someone with no understanding of mechanical or electrical engineering are ESPECIALLY tough to make! It'll be ready before we head back to Lacus's place to meet everyone, I promise, but that's the only time estimate I can promise!" Athrun put away the comb and studied himself in the mirror. Acceptable, especially considering where they were going. "Maybe if you gave me more than a few hours a day to work on it..."

"If you want, you can sleep alone and work on it THEN! Be plenty more time then!"

"Keep laughing, dearheart, we'll see who laughs last." Athrun muttered darkly, heading towards the stairs. He did have to stop for a moment at the top to catch his breath and not because he was tired either. Saying the sight he saw was breathtaking would be quite literally true in this case. He'd gone shopping with Cagalli several times over the past few days, spending countless hours in the stores while she seemingly poured over each and every last single one of the garments contained therein... mainly he stuck around so she wouldn't spend all the money they had at once. Alkire had said that he wouldn't feel right if they had to work for a living during the vacation, but given how fast Cagalli was getting rid of the cash Athrun was starting to consider that he might need to see about a part time job to ensure they had enough for food. To say he hadn't really been paying attention to what she'd bought would be an understatement.

His eyes started at the ground, at the shoes... more like very dressy sandals with a real sole and about two inches of heel, but still open toed. Cagalli was wearing no socks, allowing for an unobstructed view as his eyes traveled up... and up and up her legs until they got to the white jean shorts. The very tight, VERY short white jean shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination. There was a lot of skin on display, and he hadn't even gotten above the WAIST yet. There was a black leather belt threaded through the loops of the jean shorts, though he failed to seethe purpose... clothing THAT tight wouldn't need a belt to stay on. Above the waist was more skin, eventually leading to a white sleeveless tube top with a low neckline, a hameya necklace like the one she'd given him so long ago and then her artfully messy hair, a look that had probably taken longer to do than the rest of her dressing put together. Over it all she wore a red leather coat that fell to about midthigh and a red beret at a jaunty angle on her head.

"Well, I was going to ask you what you thought, but given how red your face is, I don't think that'll be necessary." Cagalli said, smirkly widely. "It's quite plain you like what you see."

"You sure you don't wanna get dressed, before we go out?" Athrun replied, his voice somewhat hoarse. "You haven't forgot a pair of pants and a shirt on the bed, have you?"

"You're cute." Cagalli retorted fondly. She looked at him in turn, and felt her own pulse rising a bit. If ever there was a good guy to go for the artless movie star, unaware of his own hotness look, that guy was Athrun. Black dress shoes and slacks with matching belt, with a deep, dark emerald green button down shirt, sleeves rolled back to the elbow and the top button unbuttoned just enough to show his white undershirt... Cagalli frowned. "Get down here, I need to fix you."

"What's wrong?" Athrun asked, suspicious. Cagalli just shook her head and beckoned him down. Warily, slowly, he complied. As soon as he got within easy reach she pounced forward and grabbed him by one shoulder so he couldn't get away. Standing up on tiptoe to reach better, she tousled his neatly combed hair into a much more natural, less "anal rich boy" look.

"Now lose the undershirt, unbutton the top TWO buttons and put these on your head and we'll be ready." Cagalli ordered firmly, handing him a pair of sunglasses with gold rims.

"But..." Athrun put one hand to his head, distressed at nearly ten minutes worth of careful combing, all lost in five seconds.

"You've got a great chest, Athrun, there's no reason to hide it. And trust me, you looked like a mama's boy before I fixed you. We're going to a nightclub that's also a bar and a rave hall... preppy boys get hurt in places like that. I'd pop your collar, but your hair isn't long enough for it to not look forced. Ideally you'd have a tattoo or two on display, but we'll worry about that some other time."

"Since when are you such an expert..." Athrun griped as he complied with her instructions. He felt awkward, but that was preferrable to scrapping the entire evening, which he knew she'd eventually threaten to do.

"Since I turned 14 and started being interested in guys. That's why people GO to nightclubs... to meet interesting people of the opposite sex."

"Well then why are WE going?"

"For the other reason people go to nightclubs... to have FUN being WILD!" Cagalli took him by the hand and started pulling him outside.

"We don't even know if we're going to be able to get in... Dearka only got us in last time because we were in ZAFT and he knew the bouncer." Athrun protested.

"Oh please. Two obviously attractive people as us... they're going to be begging for us to come in and liven the place up. Especially when I pass the bouncer a hundred buck tip... he probably won't let us back out, much less give us trouble getting in. And if they still give us trouble... well just flash your ID. You're ATHRUN ZALA, remember?" Cagalli rolled her eyes as she stressed his name. "Up here, in the PLANTS, in December city... you're going to be like ME, down in Orb. It's going to be GREAT!"

"I'm so glad one of us is happy."

"Don't sulk, or I swear to God I'll find some other attractive guy to dance with all night long. You say you don't get jealous, but I know better. If some other guy were to put his hand "here"... Cagalli placed his palm just over her belly button. "... you'd flip a table."

"I think you're exaggerating a little..."

"What about "here" then?" Cagalli moved his hand to her left buttock. "You think a guy wouldn't wanna get a good grip there, especially if he'd been drinking? This is a bar too, Athrun. These places are shark tanks... if you don't mark your territory you're going to get eaten."

"I am getting so excited about this, can't you tell?"

"I know it'll be hard for you, but you'll just have to let yourself go, Athrun. Be wild, be crazy... no one will care. Half of them won't know you from jesus, the other half won't remember anything the next day. It's gonna be dark and hot and theres going to be laser lights flashing everywhere... the middle of a hectic battle is CALM compared to a rave hall in full swing. People are going to be bumping into you from all sides... girls are going to be trying to dance with you, kiss you, feel you up... guys are gonna be trying to dance with you, kiss you, feel you up... its CRAZY like that. Pretty much everyone is going to be tipsy at the least and a few are likely to be stoned. Just think of it like a dream... it doesn't have to be any more real the next morning than you want it to be."

"So if you wake up tomorrow morning with two strange girls and a strange guy in the bed with us and have no memory of the last night, that's cool?"

"THAT wouldn't be." Cagalli dug her fist into his side.

"Just establishing an upper limit. So go crazy, have fun, don't get offended... but don't get wasted and invite a bunch of strangers back to the house for an orgy. Okay, I think I understand."

"And if I catch you kissing or groping any other girls, I'm going to break your hands."

"But I thought you said..."

"That's them to you. They can paw you all they want... but if you paw them back I'M going to get jealous, and you really don't want that. Besides, why would you need to look elsewhere after I went to so much trouble making myself so tempting?"

"You don't have to go to trouble to do that." Athrun insisted.

"You're sweet. Now program the car so we can stop talking about it and start experiencing it."

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Athrun wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting the nightclub to look like... he'd been there before but he hadn't formed any lasting impressions of the place back then... but he had to admit, it didn't look like what he'd been expecting. He'd been looking for something like a Las Vegas casino, all glitzy outside with flashing lights and huge TV screens. There was none of that. Just a long square two story building with no windows on the first level and precious few on the second story. It looked to be a warehouse of some sort, or a former one anyway. There were several large roll up loading doors on the long side of the building, but the double doors that led to the club were just plain steel double doors, painted the same off white that the rest of the building was. The car was forced to park several blocks away... nondescript or not, the place was clearly packed.

There was a roped off que extending along the sidewalk in front of the door for a good fifty feet or so, and it was mostly full of people, all dressed... less than conservatively. They ranged in age from a decadeor more older than Athrun to several people he was sure were skipping middle school in order to wait in the line. Everyone was waiting differently... those towards the front of the line were animated, yakking on cell phones or conversing boisterously amongst themselves, while people farther back waited with more indifference, clearly inured to a multi-hour long wait. Cagalli ignored the line and pulled Athrun along behind her as she blitzed straight for the door. Athrun shrugged sheepishly at the incredulous stares the people in line were giving them... you just DIDN'T cut in line for Club Ambrosia, one of the most trendy "underground" clubs in the PLANTS.

"Club's full, you'll have to wait in line like everyone else, miss." The bouncer said, not even getting up from his shaded stool in front of the door. The man was big... perhaps not as big as James or Sergeant-Major Glory, but he could easily have played professional hockey or amateur American football (the PLANTS not being big enough to have their own professional team, and who would play Coordinators anyway?) in his off time. Call it six and a half feet and two hundred plus something large pounds. Bigger than Athrun and Cagalli put together, and from the scars on his knuckles and cheeks, clearly not new to removing people from the club by force. He had soulful green eyes and a shaved head covered with mean looking tattoos that also squirmed down his bulging arms. Little did anyone besides his employers know that he was actually a mid level banking executive who used artful makeup to make himself look the part of a terrfying bouncer for his extra spending money.

"Oh come on... I've got the cover charge right here." Cagalli passed over the fifty dollar entrance fee, with a further one hundred dollar bill folded inside, and gave the man a winsome smile, not accidentally letting her coat fall open slightly to show off what was underneath. Athrun quirked a brow... Cagalli was very practised at this sort of thing. No wonder Kisaka always looked grim when people asked him what it was like being her bodyguard... keeping her respectable must have been an onerous chore.

"Yes you certainly do. And now that you've turned it over, I'll be sure to let you in without a hassle... once you've waited in the line." The bouncer said with a winning smile in return, placing the cover charge in the envelope with the rest and slipping the tip into his pocket nonchalantly. "You're charming, miss, but really... you're nowhere near stacked enough to just charm your way into a place as exclusive as Club Ambrosia. Too thin. Not enough bust, and barely any ass to speak of. You might be the queen of the street in your dirtside town, miss, but you'll need a little more oomph to get by me. Thanks for the tip though." The bouncer put a hand to the comm device he wore in his ear. "Next two, come on in." He waved to the two people at the front of the line.

"Okay, no sweat." Athrun said politely, turning to head to the back of the line. Cagalli didn't turn with him. He looked back. Big sweat. BIG SWEAT. Her face was slightly downcast and her fists were clenched. Her entire posture suggested barely contained rage. He should have known Cagalli wouldn't take such bare faced criticism without a fight... especially after losing a hundred and fifty dollars for nothing. "Let's be mature about this, Cagalli." Athrun whispered urgently

"Too thin... not enough bust... HARDLY ANY ASS!? IS HE BLIND!?" Cagalli hissed back. "Probably wouldn't know pretty if it kicked him in the face! Let's test that! I have diplomatic immunity... what's the worst they can do to me!?"

"Hold on a moment." The bouncer said, after admitting the two he'd called forward. He pointed one meaty hand at Athrun. "You look kinda familiar. Have I seen you before somewhere?"

_Depends how often you watched the news these past few years._ Athrun thought mildly, really much more concerned with keeping Cagalli from trying to tear the man's face off... he remembered her little scene in Orb when Cervantes had denounced Athrun. "Might have. I've been here once before, a few years ago."

"Yeah... yeah! I remember now. You're friends with that Elsman prick, right?"

"Uhm... yes. Kinda sorta?" Athrun wasn't expecting this to end well.

"Nevermind what I said earlier then. Anyone who's Dearka's friend is a friend of mine too. Bastard still owes me for the last time I slipped him in, but he's an all right guy... I never would have got this job if he hadn't intro'd me. I'm going to twist his arm till he cries like a girl and coughs up my tip next time I see him, but I won't hold that against you two. Especially in light of the tip your rather forward girlfriend gave me. Piece of advice, girl... you can't bribe your way into places like Club Ambroisa... they pay me extra to NOT accept bribes. You don't wanna wait in line, buy a membership... if you can afford to drop a hundred for a tip, you can sure as hell afford a membership."

"Thanks." Cagalli said icily, clearly far from forgiving the man for his rather too blunt assessment of her physical charms.

"You're welcome sweetheart. And if it's any consolation..." The man said as he opened the door for them. "... while you might be subpar in the looks department, your man is damned hot."

"SUBP..." Athrun dragged Cagalli inside before she could fully explode. He could clearly hear the man chuckling as he shut the door... clearly torquing up girls who tried to charm their way into the Club was a major part of his at work fun. "I'LL KILL THAT SANCTIMONIOUS SON OF A..."

"We're inside... thats what matters, right? He was just doing it to get a reaction out of you."Athrun said soothingly.

"I'll show him a reaction he won't forget for a LONG time!" Cagalli blustered, but she didn't make any try for the door... being inside was slowly defusing her, despite her outrage. Speaking of... there wasn't much to "inside". Just a small, bare concrete room with a staircase leading dowards in the middle. It was cold, a good twenty to thirty degree drop from the balmy outside. It was quiet too, except for a barely perceptible vibration in the ground that grew stronger the more they descended the stairs. The stairs finally ended after they descended a good two stories into the ground, in another small concrete room. There were two more bouncers down here, and a woman sitting behind a counter with the sign "Clothing Check" overhead.

"No coats allowed. We need to search you for contraband as well. Club Ambrosia is a clean operation... we find drugs, you're out, no questions asked. We find weapons and the MP's will be here inside five minutes." One of the new set of bouncers stepped forward. Cagalli sighed but didn't argue, exchanging her cout and hat with the lady behind the dest for a small slip of pink paper. The bouncer stepped up to Athrun and waved a small paddle over him quickly. The device beeped and flashed a green light. "You're clean." The man walked over to Cagalli and repeated the procedure with similar results. "She's clean too. Welcome to Club Ambrosia." The second bounced unlocked another set of double doors and gestured for them to head on in. For a moment Athrun couldn't... he'd finally discovered the source of the vibration... namely the astoundingly loud and deeply bass music that was now assaulting him full force through the open doors. He couldn't see anything, due to black curtains hanging acros the inside of the doorway, but the music was practically lifting him up with physical force and pushing him away.

Cagalli grabbed him by the wrist again, mistaking his hesitation for renewed reluctance, and half pulled him through the doorway. He passed through the black curtains and just barely heard the doors shut behind him... more from the slight rush of air than from any actual noise. Cagalli had been right... it was dark. There didn't seem to be any normal lighting in the entire place... what few ceiling illuminators were lit all shone with dull, dim red or blue or purple hues. Amazingly enough, they were actually on a raised platform, not the ground floor, with bare metal staircases leading down to a wide dance floor or up to a sort of combination lounge/bar/viewing balcony. There was a stage at the far end of the dance floor, crowded with speakers and amps and other assorted musical paraphenelia. but no actual band or DJ. More speakers were scattered everywhere throughout the interior, spaced so that no matter where you were you still had a surround sound experience.

"... here... break..." Cagalli commented with a smile next to him. He could barely even make out what she was saying, even though she was right next to him.

"What!?" He asked, trying not to shout. She ignored him. Or rather, he realized, she couldn't hear him. He prodded her side... enjoying the feel of it guiltily... to get her attention. "WHAT'D YOU SAY!?" He yelled.

"I SAID, I'M GLAD WE GOT HERE DURING A BREAK IN THE MUSIC!" Cagalli shouted back.

"THIS IS A BREAK!? WE HAVE TO YELL TO BE HEARD!"

"BUT WE CAN BE HEARD!"

That logic scared him into just shaking his head and looking around again. The place was swamped. Overflowing. He'd never seen so many people crowded into a building before. He'd heard of places so crowded that there was "standing room only" but this was the first time he actually saw what that meant. He realized that it was hot... it couldn't help but be, with so many human bodies all cramped together. He could feel air conditioning at work, could feel air currents keeping things at least marginally fresh and clean smelling, but it did little to stop the sweat from breaking out on his brow and across his chest. Suddenly Cagalli's clothing... or relative lack of it... made more sense. A full length dress would be hell after an hour in this environment, assuming it didn't just get ripped to shreds in the press of bodies. The music died away, but the noise level dropped only slightly... he became aware of the constant roar of hundreds of conversations all being held at once, all being screamed over the music, even when it wasn't playing.

"GOING TO GET SOME DRINKS! COME WITH ME!" Cagalli shouted. She didn't wait for him to reply, slipping her hand ruthlessly into the front of his waistband and snatching hold of his belt. He jerked away from the sudden touch, especially given the location... she'd nearly grabbed a big hunk of a very personal item, not just his pants. From the wicked smile on her face, that hadn't been an accident either. "DON'T WANT YOU WANDERING OFF AND GETTING LOST! YOU GRAB HOLD TOO... DOUBLE INTERLOCK!"

_Grab hold WHERE!?_ Athrun thought wildly, staring gravely at Cagalli's shorts. Spandex would have been looser. There was no way he could grab hold of her belt without... _Aha... so thats how you wanna play it, is it? Very well, I'll bite. You won't shock me that easily, dear._ Athrun snagged her belt and tried very hard not to think about the play of the back of his fingers on the soft skin of her butt. "Dirty minded party girl." He commented under his breath, smiling at her. With some trouble she led the way unerringly towards the bar area. It was like she'd been the one who'd been there before, not him... though to be honest given how overwhelmed he was right now he didn't blame himself for not remembering much back then... he must have been totally lost. After much shoving and edging and bumping into people... almost all of them much more lightly clad than himself... almost indecently so in several cases, Cagalli managed to secure them a space at the bar.

A space was all it was... maybe three feet wide, for the both of them. They were practically smushed together by the people on either side, who barely paid them any mind at all. The bar area was brightly lit in neon blue and purple, making all the drinks look monochrome. By the time he'd finished taking in the visual scene of the bar, Cagalli had already ordered and received two drinks... tall glasses of blue tinted liquid. But perhaps that was just the light. He sipped his cautiously, almost spilling when the person next to him jostled him. He turned to accost them, but then realized that the person had likely been jostled in turn, and so forth and so on for several iterations. No point in getting mad... he was going to get bumped a lot tonight. He sipped the drink. Cool, refreshing, fruity in taste... blueberry, grape, raspberry and a few more exotic he couldn't pick out. And a hell of a lot of alchohol. Vodka, given the almost imperceptable taste... he'd smelled his father drink it a few times. He gave Cagalli a significant look over the rim of the glass.

She toasted him with her own drink, which was identical to his, and sipped deeply. _I didn't come here to get twisted on fruity mixed drinks, Athrun. It's just a happy side effect. All part of the experience. And you'd better drink yours too, or else._ Cagalli sipped again, pointing with her free hand at his glass and then balling her fist in front of her face. _Kisaka will kill me if he finds out that I went to a rave and got smashed. Good. I've had it up to here with choking responsibility... I need to do something crazy before I snap, and this is less destructive than most. And picking on Athrun is going to be so fun tonight._

_One drink can't hurt. And the car is automated, so it will get us home even if I am a little tipsy. And nevermind the physical threat, Cagalli will never let Dearka and Katie and Ysak hear the end of things if I let her get drunk and stay sober. Probably start telling them that I use alchohol to take advantage of her... and from them it'd get on to Kira, who wouldn't be able to tell it was a joke... and then... yeah, safer to get tipsy alongside her._ Athrun decided to send her a message by tossing back the entire rest of his drink in one go. It burned his throat a little, but it was actually surprisingly smooth as it went down. Not a bad drink. _You won't get me embarassed by forcing me to touch your ass, and you won't get me to hesitate over a silly little drink... what's next then? Bring it on._ Athrun immediately regretted that thought as Cagalli drained her drink as well, then promptly turned and yelled something at the bartender nearest her, waving a hand and slapping a pair of high denomination bills on the bartop.

The barkeep made the bills disappear with alacrity, replacing them within a minute with another pair of the blue drinks, as well as a small plastic card he gave Cagalli. She drained her second drink only a little slower than she'd done the first and Athrun forced himself to do the same. _Two... two drinks... two is fine. I can handle two no problem._ Before Cagalli could buy a third round, the music started up again. Athrun was forced to admit, she'd been right. They had come in during a lull. He almost lost his balance when the song... some trance-technoish mix he could barely even pick out from the bass thump and drum beat that seemed to start pumping his heart for him. Seconds after the music started up, the smoke and laser light show kicked in, followed by the strobes. Laughing, Cagalli pulled him away from the bar and back into the press, pulling him by the arm this time, her little joke of earlier forgotten for the moment.

Athrun never did manage to form a clear impression of the dance floor. It was everything Cagalli had warned him it would be, and more besides. It was like a dream... it was more like a dream than his dreams actually. At least them he had some control over, even if it was unconscious. On the dance floor he was just a mote of consciousness cast mostly adrift on a sea of sensation, helpless to do much besides go with the flow. For the first song he was stiff, mostly just letting himself get pushed to and fro by the people around him, while Cagalli clung to him and taunted him by behaving as bad or worse than any wild college party girl in the crowd... he could feel the blush on his face and was glad for the smoke and indistinct lightning. It was a damn good thing Kira couldn't see this... despite his protests about having "grown up", there were still some sides of Cagalli Athrun felt it was safer for Kira not to know about.

_"So what did you do at the Nightclub"_ Kira would ask. _"Oh, you know... had a drink or two, listened to the music, danced a few times. It was fun, you should try it sometime."_ Athrun would reply, knowing full well Kira never would._ Even true... assuming... holy... uh... WOW... uhm... hmm... hold on... I'll get back to that line of thought LATER!_ Athrun felt his jaw drop at the show Cagalli was putting on for him. And it was definitely a show... though quite where she'd learned to... writhe... like that was beyond him. _It has to be the alchohol. It has to be. That is... that is... damn... that's HOT!_ Athrun felt himself freeze up as Cagalli suddenly moved up to him and pressed herself against him, like a cat rubbing up against its favorite scratching post._ She can't be acting like this in public... its... its... indecen... WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING? LOOK AROUND, NUMBSKULL! NOBODY CARES... HELL, ITS RESTRAINED BY SOME STANDARDS... still fully clothed, after all._

"YOU'RE STARTING TO GET IT!" Cagalli yelled in his ear. Shortly before she licked it, drawing her tongue down the side of his neck and down onto his chest. He had to fight to keep her hands on the public parts of him... plainly she'd lost what little sense of self control she normally possessed... there must have bee more alchohol in those drinks than he'd suspected. But damn him, he was enjoying it nonetheless. Enough that it was entirely impossible to hide, given their physical proximity. The smirk she gave him nearly dropped him to the floor. "_Say what you want... I know what you really think." _Is what her smile said to him. He felt his own mind fuzzing a bit as the alchohol hit him too... those drinks WERE stronger than he'd thought.

About halfway through the second song, some metallish-techno being sung in a foriegn language... something romance... french maybe, or german... Athrun realized he was dancing as well. Maybe not the wild, leaping around moshing some people were doing, but he was into it. In some ways, being surrounded by people he felt more able to go a little crazy than he would have even if he'd been entirely by himself... there was always the chance someone would walk in on you when you were alone, while in the middle of a crowd of hundreds his own parents could bump into him and not recognize him. Cagalli was pushed up against him by the press of the crowd, but this time he pushed back, enjoying the mindless feel of skin on skin, enjoying the laughter he could see on her face even if he couldn't hear it, enjoying just being able to share a carefree moment with no world shattering consequences with someone he loved. Maybe that was the real attraction of the nightclub... the illusion of time passing without consequence, of being able to live without worry that it granted you while you were inside.

_So what if Kira would slap me for feeling up his sister in the middle of a crowd... Cagalli probably would too, if we were outside. But the key thing is, we're not outside. Outside is regular life, with social conventions and laws and worries and memories... in here there's just emotionally soaked living in the moment, enjoying yourself for enjoyment's sake for a while. I think that's what Cagalli's trying to point out to me... that everyone needs a place without consequence to let out the sides of them that they keep under tight control most of the time. Well, not always tight control in her case, but she's definitely not THIS forward outside the bedroom, and sometimes not even then!_ Even slightly drunk and overwhelmed by the visual and auditory sensations of the club, Athrun couldn't help but keep thinking analytically. That side of him he could almost never turn off.

The next song started, and they were both surprised to hear a familiar voice. It was a techno-remix of one of Lacus's songs. Which one they couldn't make out, her voice being so loud as to prevent comprehension, not to mention speeded up and even played backwards once. The crowd ebbed a moment and then pressed them together harder than ever. Secure in her moderately drunk... those two drinks had contained the equivalent of six shots of Vodka, which was quite a bit more than her infrequent glass of wine with dinner... sense of invincibility, Cagalli slipped her hands below the waistband of Athrun's slacks. She felt him jerk at the unexpected touch, which only caused her to smile more. She had no doubt that he was panicking, in that constantly calculating head of his, thinking about how indecent it was to be getting off from being touched by a drunk girl who was his wife, while listening to a song sung by his former fiancee, in a public dance hall. Athrun's sense of propriety was one of the best ways to poke fun at him... he was getting much better, but he was still a prim and proper kind of guy at heart.

_Athrun always says that what he loves most about me is my confrontational and stubborn nature... well, I like his strong sense of morality and ambition. He tries to hide it, but he's just not satisfied with what he's got, ever. He always wants more, better, longer... he can never be too happy with success for long. I'll never lack for motivation with him around. And his morality... that's my safety net. The idea of Athrun doing something purely for personal gain is ludicrous... even if he was working a normal job he'd be doing something that helps other people. And as for right now, even if I get completely smashed, to the point where I have no idea what I'm doing or what's going on, he'll never take advantage of me. He'd stop me if I started doing something too crazy, like strip dancing or inviting home strangers. And so I get to be selfish, by partying without worry and he gets to be selfish, because he enjoys worrying about me because then he doesn't have to worry about himself. Two pluses, and we're both not worrying about ourselves, which is the whole point._

Cagalli let the crowd motion pull her and Athrun apart again, just as he started looking like he was going to have to start physically restraining himself from doing something untoward... either pushing her away, which was the most likely... or leaping upon her and taking her right then and there, which was extremely unlikely, but he did do very crazy things from time to time. However, she hadn't been teasing him nearly enough for that... Athrun only did extremely crazy and unplanned things under life or death pressure, or the relative peaceful equivalent. Seeing just how far she could push him before he had to hit the panic button and resort to physical means of keeping himself off her was a form of teasing she enjoyed immensely. Of course, she usually ended up rendering his physical solution moot shortly afterwards, but it was the small victories you always savored the most. She chose not to dwell on the few times when Athrun had turned the strategy around on her, since she had much less success in controlling herself... indeed, she was pretty sure Athrun counted it as a victory when she DIDN'T stop herself from throwing herself onto him and loving him half to death.

Cagalli blinked a few times when she next got pushed up against Athrun. _I must be drunker than I thought. He looks taller and thinner than just a moment ago. And Athrun would never wear his hair in a ponytail, would he? But the eyes and the hair and the skin and the face... they all look the same. Eh... think later, fun now..._ Cagalli put her hands on Athrun's chest and slowly began working them downward. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. That had hardly been the only hand on her for a while now, and the shoulder was actually a very restrained place to be grabbed. If she was the type of girl to take offense easily... scratch that, if she was the type of girl who took offense easily when she didn't set herself up for it... she'd probably be steaming mad right now. She chose to be complimented instead. After all, everyone else was a Coordinator and while Athrun was adamant in saying that merely being a Coordinator didn't make you beautiful... everyone knew that was bullshit. Coordinators were pretty, end of story. Being pawed at by them meant they thought she was worth pawing at, so she took that as a compliment. And imagined that Athrun could split himself dozens of times and was surrounding her. Whatever it took to cope peacefully.

Athrun reached around and began caressing her in return, hands sneaking up the front of her shirt and down the back of her shorts, something he hadn't done yet. The alchohol was clearly doing its job... she'd have to remember to get more soon. His tolerance was going to be higher than hers... he weighed more and he was a Coordinator. On average a Coordinator metabolized alchohol about twenty percent faster than a Natural of equivalent size. Modern medical science had all but cured the effects of alchoholism, but even without that most Coordinators could drink like a fish if they chose with little long term harmful effects. The hand fell on her shoulder again, grabbing harder this time. It was almost painful, like whoever it was was angry about something. She tried to shrug them off again, but there was no success this time. Finally she left off teasing Athrun and looked over her shoulder. Into Athrun's eyes. Cagalli blinked a few times... she'd have to start drinking water now, she was already seeing things. Athrun was on either side of her, front and back. A very dirty thought flashed through her mind and she had to take some time stifling it, but fortunately neither Athrun moved away.

At length she came to the conclusion, somewhat startling, that Athrun hadn't managed to split into two, and hadn't been cloned. He just had a taller, thinner, ponytailed look-a-like. Whom Cagalli had been feeling up, and had been enjoying being felt up by in return. All her jokes to Athrun earlier aside, Cagalli was well aware of the "hands off my girl" mentality of most young men her and Athrun's age. Especially since they were both supposed to be married. The odd fondle or ass-grab in the darkness of a dance floor... that could be overlooked. Engaging in drunken foreplay with a stranger... that was going to push Athrun's buttons the wrong way, and she was well aware of what could result if you pushed too many of Athrun's buttons the wrong way. She jerked away from the stranger, who was looking at her bemusedly, obviously surprised at her sudden reversal in stance.

Then the stranger caught sight of Athrun standing behind her, pretty much at the same time as Athrun finally managed to get a clear look at him in return. There was no sudden start of shock either way... just faint surprise and tenative recognition. On Athrun's part because he realized the look-a-like was a distant cousion of his... on his cousin's part because he was so drunk and high a stampede of pink elephants probably wouldn't have shocked him much. The song ended and Cagalli wasted no time in grabbing Athrun's arms, draping them around her and back up into him so there could be no misunderstanding of their relationship. She could feel her face turning red as she thought furiously, trying to figure some way to explain and possibly defuse the situation. Being drunk was suddenly a handicap. Then Athrun took matters into his own hands, setting one arm firmly around her waist, he gestured with the other, motioning for his cousin to follow. His cousin shook his head and instead gestured for Athrun and Cagalli to follow him. He headed away towards one of the alcoves edging the dance floor. Glancing at each other, Cagalli and Athrun slowly followed.

"So... yeah, wassup, cuz?" Athrun's cousin slid the folding shutter shut across the entrance to the small room. It didn't block out the noise from the dance floor,but it did cut it down to the level they could talk without having to resort to sign language. Somewhere along the few score feet from the middle of the floor to the alcove Athrun's cousin had managed to snag a small gang of three girls and four more guys, who wasted no time in sitting down on the couches lining the edges of the room. Athrun's cousin draped himself down into one of the four armchairs in the middle of the room by the small coffee table, pulling one of the other three up close by and beckoning one of the girls, who was tall and thin with cream pale skin, bright violet hair and deep red eyes, over to sit with him. Actually in his lap as things turned out. Athun and Cagalli took the remaining two chairs, sitting side by side. Athrun's cousin slipped his arm around his girl's waist and toyed with slipping his fingers down her shorts, seemingly unaware of his audience. His girlfriend replied by kissing and mumbling nothing-words into his ear as she snuggled close. It made Cagalli more than a little uneasy, especially since she knew she acted like that sometimes... now she saw what Kira saw.

"You're... Arnold? Donald?" Athrun asked his cousin, trying to place the face, whom he hadn't seen in almost a decade. "Something -old or -ald..."

"Yeah, I'm Arnold. Arnold Zala, or Arnie as my parents call me... AZ to my friends, "Hazy" to my group here. Cause they say "hay, Z", yeah?" Athrun's cousin replied dreamily. Cagalli could see that there was more than word semantics to the nickname... she didn't hang out with the "rough" crowd much anymore, but she knew when someone was high or drunk... both in this case. "You'd be Ath... ACHOO... Athrun, right?" Arnold sneezed violently in the middle of his sentence, but didn't bother to wipe his nose with anything other than his hands. Cagalli suddenly felt the need to wash herself thoroughly... those hands had been... "The real deal, Athrun Zala too, unless I'm seeing things. And I haven't had enough fun to see things yet."

"I didn't recognize you. It's been years since the last Zala family reunion. And you had blond hair then." Athrun replied, keeping his face neutral. He'd heard his father admonishing his brothers for the way they let their kids run wild on several occasions when he was younger, but he'd never paid it much mind. The other Zala's lived on September city, and they didn't come around much, especially once his father started getting heavily into politics.

"Still do, cuz, still do. But with these eyes and this face... man all it takes is a little dye job and I'm a dead ringer for you. Or near enough most can't tell. Gotta thank you man... you being such a famous hero type has made my life heaven." Arnold petted the head of his girlfriend and kissed her for a few moments, while his other hand continued its fondling. Cagalli had to look away, embarassed. She could tell what his hand was doing, the other girl was wearing tight shorts as well and it wasn't the sort of thing you should do in public. Or even in semi-private. But the girl didn't seem to mind at all... maybe because she was drunk and stoned too.

"How so?" Athrun asked tightly, obviously offended by the too public display of affection, if there even was any affection besides physical lust. It was one thing, when he and Cagalli played around a bit, teasing Kira or Lacus with kissing and light touching... but what "Hazy" was doing was grounds for arrest under "carnal knowledge of a minor". The legal age for sex in the PLANTS was still eighteen after all. Okay, so maybe that was a law only like 5 percent of anyone followed, but at least most tried to be less obvious about it!

"Do ya have any idea how many girls wanna fuck Athrun Zala, the war hero? Cuz, man, you gotta get out more. You're a celebrity man... a sex icon in our generation. Guys can you believe dis shit? He don't even know he's got a fuckin cult of hot girls worshippin him... J-Fuckin-Christ man!" Arnold replied. "Thousands of hotties jerking off to pictures of him every night an' he don' even know it... fucking bastard...!"

"So you pretend to be me in order to fool girls into having sex with you?" Athrun asked, very slowly and calmly, though Cagalli could see his fists clenching.

"Hell yeah man! A dream come true all around, cuz! You ain't around to fuckin protest or do the deeds yourself, so someone had to step in and relieve da pressure! Don' take much to fool girls round these parts... got da hair, got da eyes, got da face and the 'nitials... all I got's ta do is sign da checks "AZ" and have it get cleared and my cred's SET, bitch! They practically FORCE me to fuck em! Two at a time even! And that's not even getting into the gifts!"

"Gifts!?" Athrun gritted out, clearly extremely less than pleased at this blatant identity theft. "You con gifts out of these girls!?"

"Fuck man, cuz, they won't take no for a fuckin answer man. They insist! Gotta give the big AZ, war hero and sex god, a memento or two, ya know. I can't turn em down... some of dese girls, man, they got fragile ego, cuz. Turn em down and they go kills themself... I can't live with shit like that man... I gotta cons... consie... I care, cuz, I care bout dem!"

"What sort of gifts?" Cagalli asked, hoping to let Athrun cool off some, though she couldn't see any safe topic to talk about. In a lot of ways this was kind of like what Cervantes did to her in Switzerland... taking her name and picture and using it for his own ends, though obviously Arnold "Hazy" Zala here had less ambitious if no less disgusting goals.

"All sorts, all sorts. Money, food, clothes for me, clothes from them, pictures, movies, toys, alchohol, drugs... you name it, I can find a girl to give it to me eventually. I got so much shit at my place I don know what to do wit it all."

"So you live off these girls then?" Cagalli asked again, contemptously.

"Beats waiting tables, bitch, don' it?"

"You're a damn Coordinator though!" Cagalli protested.

"So fuckin what!? Look around, bitch... ever-bodies a fuckin Coordinator! So what, do that mean I gotta go to school and learn shit I don' give a fuck about just cause I can? Just cause I'm smart and shit? Why the fuck should I do that if I can make ten grand a month fucking bitches who don't know better, getting high and dead-ass drunk every night and sleeping all day? I'm living the fucking life right now... why would I want to go to school and take time out of dis shit? What can school get me I don' get here, huh? It won' buy me drinks, or give me Waft or Spiffy, or fuck me to sleep every night... why da fuck should I go to school? Doesn't do shit for me."

"Don't you give a damn about your own future? Join ZAFT and be a real hero yoursef, instead of leeching off Athrun!" Cagalli shouted. "ZAFT needs people... the PLANTS NEED PEOPLE. How can you be so selfish! Don't you care about what's happening on Earth?"

"Who the fuck cares about Earth?" One of the guys relaxing on one of the wall couches called. He was holding a piece of what looked like cardboard up to his nose,while they watched he ripped the top layer off and inhaled violently through his nostrils. He coughed and jerked several times. "Dat's some damn good Waft ya got us, Hazy. Fuck man, it's a wild ride!"

"Only da best for my pals, Roddy. Only da best." Arnold replied. "Roddy's right doh... who da fuck cares about Earth anyway? We don live there! Fuck the Naturals, man... fuck em hard! They wanna live by demselves, fucking cut dem off like a tumor man! S'what da council's gonna do anyway. Gonna fuck them. Fuck them so hard they won't know up from down. Hell, cuz, won't even need you in a month or two... ain't gonna be shit to fight. Too bad too... if you AZ don't fight and get famous on TV, then me AZ don't get laid as often. Bad shit all round, ya?"

"How do you know what the council's going to do? Somehow I don't get the feeling they send you email updates." Athrun asked, staring at his cousin like he was something he'd found on his shoe.

"Ah man, dat's right though! But I done had me a few flings with some Lacus impersonaters. Ya know, the crazy bitches who think they can ease through life by dressin up an' pretending to be a superstar, taking money and gifts from guys wit more dick dan brains, ya?" Arnold replied, totally unaware of the irony of his mocking statement. "Well, one o'dem does some work as a steno... steogra... she writes shit down for the council sessions, or at least the real important ones that they don wanna risk the electronic recorders for. She don told me... after I fuck her silly of course..." Arnold smirked. "... about da council making a meet about dis big operation where dey going to fuck the Earth till they don know up from down. Gonna use some big sparky bombs and fuck them into da fuckin stone age, cuz. Gonna big a big light show too, gonna turn da "blue and pure world" into a fuckin "rainbow and FUCKED world, hell yeha!"

"Did she say when?" Athrun asked, intently. Arnold shurgged, clearly uncaring about the potential value of the info he had.

"Mebbe man, don' know. I was riding a grade AZ Waft upper at da time, mixed with getting sloshed on three fifths of good ole JD whiskey! Damn, dat was a TRIP!" Arnold shook his head fondly. "I don' know why yer so serious, AZ. Half of everbody I know don' give a fuck about da war... da other half don' know a fuck about da war. Why shou we? Oh sur, deres some flag wavers and miltardy types, but dey got dere own club and dey AREN'T da in clubs. Fuck man, cuz, you're acting like you can actually do a fuckin thing to stop the war. Like you tink you can make a difference. Stupid man, stupid. Just have some fun man. Let da fucking adults take care of it... all their fuckin fault anyway. They got things in hand man... just go out an' fuckin party man. It's what we're fucking supposed to do!" Arnold shrugged and continued to "play" with his girlfriend. His eye fell on Cagalli after a moment.

"Doh I gotta say... I never thought I'd see you hanging out wit a ditzy bimbo like dis one. Fuck man, she ain't even cute! She got good hands, I give you, but da rest of her... shit, cuz, pure shit. Parent's musta skimped on the genecoding... or else dey were just fuckin UGLY! Breasts like apples and only a middling ass... and dat hair... GD man, GD... you fin her in da sewer? Must have a mighty tight snat..." Arnold never got to finish his statement, because Athrun's side kick threw him out of his chair and into the wall behind.

Athrun straightened his shirt fastidiously as Arnold slid down the wall into a heap, coughing blood and tooth fragments onto the ground. His gang barely stirred, all too drunk or high to see the worth in avenging their friend's injury. "I can take having my own name used like an ass wipe, but nobody messes with Cagalli while I'm around. If you can't say something nice, then don't say a damn word at all. I would lecture you, but you're so fucked up in the head right now you probably can't even remember your own parents names, much less anything I say. I will mention one thing though... maybe I can't stop the war all by myself... but at least I'm trying. The odds are against me... but you're not even in the odds, you stupid bastard. Go on, keep pretending to be someone special, keep living like vermin and never attain anything worthwhile... better that someone like you never does make a mark at all." Athrun turned away from his cousin.

"Gotta be da fucking big man. Gotta go out an make waves. Da' was right. You are jus' like your fuckin daddy. Can't be happy wit' shit. Gotta change shit. Gotta "make a mark". Go on yerself, fuckin cuz. Have a fuckin ball making a fuckin difference. Ain't you dat's gotta really live wit da results anyway... nah, you just move on ta da next fight, fucker. You fighting for us, mebbe. Well fuck you, I never asked you to. I don' care about you cuz, other dan you make my life easy. Keep fighting... making your marks, shit. But damn few our age really give a flyin fuck what you do, cuz. Oh, dey care while its on TV, but next day... fuck you, cuz. Fuck you."

"I need some fresh air. Shall we go get some?" Athrun asked Cagalli lightly, ignoring his cousin.

"Ya, dat's right. Go fuckin leave! Git, cuz! Go fuck your fuckin whore somewhere else! Makes me sick, having her aro... eep." Arnold cut off in mid threat. Athrun had crossed the room in a blur, and was now face to face with his cousin, eye to eye even. Both eyes were washed out, though Arnold was stoned while Athrun was in a SEED rage.

"That's my wife you're talking about, Arnold. The only more sure way to get me to pummel you into a hospital is if you start slandering my mother. I married a Natural, that's right. And I love her very much... more than you've ever loved anyone. Maybe more than you even can love anyone, who knows. But lets get one thing absolutely clear between us... I don't care what you do to me, though I detest the very idea of being impersonated by a slime like you. But if you so much as think about messing with Cagalli, either directly or indirectly, I will personally destroy you so badly that not even your drugs will be able to give you the illusion that you're still a man, in any sense of the word. Do you understand me? I don't enjoy beating helpless people... but you're getting real close to forcing me not to care, "cuz"." Athrun stood up again. "Now, about that fresh air?"

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"Are you okay, Athrun?" Cagalli asked, after they had left the club and returned to the car. She'd detoured to he bar on the way out and cashed in her little "gift card" for a take home case of the stuff she and Athrun had been drinking. Though the chance encounter with Athrun's cousin had put a strong damper on things, Cagalli refused to let it ruin the night. If they couldn't loosen up, get drunk and have a blast at the Club, they'd just have to do it somewhere else, like at home. "He was drunk and stoned and just unpleasant... you don't need to worry too much about what he sai..."

Athrun interrupted her by holding up one hand as he programmed route directions into the car's comptuer controls. "He was all those things, but maybe precisely because he was, I think I do need to worry about what he said." Athrun finished his typing and got into the car... though Cagalli was happy to see that he had gotten into the back seat and not the front. Clearly the upsetting meeting hadn't totally ruined Athrun's night either. She got into the back seat as well and leaned up against him. "It's a perspective I hadn't really considered before... what my "peers on the street" think of things. I hadn't realized how apathetic people were. I thought almost everyone was as politically active as the people we've been around. But that's really not the case is it?"

"Tens of millions of people... maybe even hundreds of millions of people DO care!" Cagalli insisted.

"Yes... and hundreds of millions more are neutral, with the remainder somehow uninformed or actively uninterested. Don't get me wrong... I know that what I do makes a difference, that the goal we're all working towards is both right and necessary. The conversation made me want to succeed more than anything else, actually. So I can prove to all the apathetic people out there, waiting for the "adults" to "fix things" that one person CAN make a difference. Groups are made of individuals after all. Maybe my successes will inspire someone teetering on the edge of being like Arnold there into instead being more like me. I wanna show people what the difference is in being Athrun Zala versus pretending to be Athrun Zala. Thousands of people can sign "AZ"... but only a few can make it mean something."

"And its AZA anyway." Cagalli reminded him as the car pulled out onto the street. The radio turned on and tuned to a station specializing in the new rage, Excavation rock, featuring all genres of music "re-invented" from records of more than a century ago. A song came on called "Over and Over" by a band called Three Day's Grace. It was romantic, and as she listened to the words Cagalli could definitely indentify with the lyrics.

"That it is, but I don't think he would have got that. And bad enough that he's making those girls think I sleep around... do we really want him making people think I also cheat on my wife?"

"No one who knows me could ever think you'd cheat on your wife, Athrun." Cagalli snuggled up to him as the car, which was a convertible like most PLANT vehicles, extruded the side windows and top that would turn it into a regular car, in case of a scheduled rain along the road. The sky looked clear however, which led her to believe there was some other motive. "You aren't that brave." She thought for a few moments. "Really though, we could have a word with Alkire and Raine... I'm sure they could "fix" your cousin."

"If anyone is going to hospitalize a member of my family, it'll be me. Besides, I don't really give a damn what he does or says... anyone who values his opinion isn't someone I feel the need to listen to. Eventually he's going to sleep with the wrong person or get caught using drugs and they'll DNA scan him and the jig will be up. I could sue him for slander, but I prefer to think about what all those girls are going to do to him... he won't have a very comfortable life." Athrun smiled as the car windows tinted themselves to the point of opacity, turning the inside into a near cave except for dim light coming in from the windshield. "Our night's not over though, so lets get back into the swing of things shall we? Where were we on the dance floor again?"

"Well, I dunno... I'd hate to pat down another imposter again... you Coordinators haven't been paying me many compliments tonight." _And that's no joke... geez its almost like they want me to feel inadequate about my body! Not every girl has big breasts and a huge ass! And I'm not thin, I just control what I eat and stay healthy. And there's nothing wrong with my hair! And... damn it, they ARE getting to me!_

"What can I say... just being a Coordinator doesn't mean you can't be blind, I guess." Athrun fiddled at her waist for a moment and removed the black leather belt. "Amazing... they DO stay on without a belt. I'd been wondering about that ever since I first saw them. Those can't be comfortable, tight as they are."

"I can take them off?"

"I bet you can't." Athrun leaned to the side, adjusting his position to pull her down on top of him. He kissed the tip of her nose lightly and gathered her hands with his. "Shame on you for feeding me alchohol... you know its a dis-inhibitor."

"And shame on you for being such a wonderful guy... you know its also a dis-inhibitor." Cagalli whispered back. The song changed to "Making a Memory" by Plain White T's. There was a long pause. "Damn you, don't just leave me hanging. And you'd better fix the car first, I'd hate to get home in the middle of something important. It was hard enough getting into these standing up... it would be hell in a car."

"The car won't be heading home for at least an hour. And you just gave me enough of an image to..."

"Shut up already!"

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"So is it ready yet?" Cagalli continued to pester him. They still had a few days left before they were due to meet up with Lacus and Kira and everyone else, and Cagalli was anxiously awaiting the completetion of the project she'd comissioned from Athrun on the first day. They hadn't done anything too exciting since their half night at the Nightclub, though they hadn't exactly just moped around the house either. Neither were usually the stay around the house types. No, they went waterskiing and sailing and played pickup games of soccer and doubles tennis at the sports complexes, or else went out to eat at various resteraunts, though they never did hit the famous Norman's Grill. Cagalli spent money like it was water being distrubuted in a desert, but Athrun managed to save aside enough to ensure they would have food and even emergency travel if they needed it. His wardrobe expanded sixfold, mostly with clothes he'd never even seen before Cagalli shoved them into the closet. She insisted he wear multiple sets of clothing per day, so she could see how he looked. When he pointed out that she could have just asked him to model while she was buying them at the store, she pushed him around until he did what she said.

"Well, no thanks to your badgering, yes, it is." Athrun stood in the doorway to his workshop, which was also his old room. They stayed in the master bedroom, but Athrun worked in his old room so as to keep the details of his project secret from her. He still used the master bathroom while working though... the mouse was still living in his bathroom. Cagalli went in to check it every so often to make sure Athrun hadn't killed it, despite a sworn promise not to harm it on his part. Every time she did so he had to roll up all his plans and hide the item itself, though that wasn't too hard given its size. "And the mouse still lives. It hurts that you don't trust me not to attack it. I only lay awake on two nights plotting its death. That's pretty good I think."

"That's pretty sad I think. That you would even need to plot to kill something like that cute little mouse... yeah, sad."

"Do you want this pet or not? Making fun of me isn't making me feel very giving."

"But making fun of you brightens my day so much!" Cagalli through her arms around him and began rocking them back and forth.

"You can't cutsey-coddle it out of me either." Athrun said sternly.

"Not for roughly six minutes and forty seconds anyway. After that, we're in uncharted territory." Cagalli retorted. "You're not the only one who can do research, dear. I know your limits." She smiled wider. "I'll reduce you to a snivelling ball of jelly if I have to, but you can just go the easy way and show me what you made. Then I can laugh delightedly, kiss you firmly and go back to reading my book."

"I see why you appointed me your diplomatic ambassador." Athrun snorted. "Very well... enjoy this little fella." Athrun brought his hands out from around his back and opened his hands. Cagalli started for a moment, surprised that Athrun wasn't cowering in terror. Then she realized that the object only LOOKED like a mouse. And even then, only at first glance or from a distance. She started chuckling and shook her head.

"Cured you of rodent-phobia have I?"

"No, I still hate rats and mice. But this just looks like one... its merely distasteful. But I just couldn't get the damn thing out of my head. And if I'm lucky, birdie will really start acting like a hawk and that will solve my problem neatly." Athrun tipped his hands slightly, forcing the mouse-robot to run onto Cagalli's cupped palm. The pet sniffed her hand several times and turned around before crouching down in an "at rest" pose. Cagalli touched it with a finger and her eyebrow rose. She petted it a few more times to be sure.

"It's soft. And slightly warm." She commented. She held it up in front of her face and stared at it closely. "You really went all out on this guy didn't you? I can't see any seams at all. If it weren't for the lack of a mouth and nostrils, and the green LED eyes, I don't think I could tell this from a real mouse."

"It's about forty percent bigger than my nemesis in the bathroom there... I could have made it lifesize, but the risk of losing it or crushing it underfoot by accident would be much higher then, and I don't wanna spend hours and hours constantly repairing it for you. The fur is a synthetic material that is water proof and fire resistant, it is also self cleaning to an extent. He can run or climb about as fast as a regular mouse, which is actually faster than you'd think. However, I didn't want him running all over the place, getting into things and potentially giving me a heart attack every few days, so I programmed him to be a heat seeker. As in, he likes to be warm, his favorite temperatures being in the ranges of human body temp. The heat generated by his processor, which I loaded with almost a gigabyte of action commands based on the behavior of mice mixed with some from cats and dogs as well, accounts for why he feels warm. He "sees" in the infared spectrum and has roughly human level hearing. He makes mouse sounds too, and he can purr, just because I wanted him too. He'll purr and vibrate a little, whenever he's happy, i.e. when he's warm and near you."

"You keep saying he, like he's not just a robot." Cagalli pointed out with a smug smile. "He's not delicate is he?"

"As long as you don't stamp on him with your full weight he should be fine. He doesn't break easily, but that doesn't mean you can play catch with him or throw him into walls. He's got a weak a-grav module that slows his falling speed but doesn't allow him to jump or anything. He also can't swim worth a damn, though he's watertight down to about sixty feet, and could conceivably walk around on the bottom of a body of water. I also programmed him to seek you out if he ever gets seperated from you for more than a few minutes without you turning him off. The sniffing thing he did was him recognizing you by the DNA in your sweat. Its a crude sensor, very short ranged, but it should help keep him from getting lost. He's not the most active of pets unless you tell him to play... he likes just sitting and watching things, preferably in a warm place like a pocket or sitting on your neck or the top of your head. Once you give him a name, he'll respond to voice commands, like a dog. Come, Stay, Play, Speak, Roll Over, etc. Or you can tell him to go "Passive" in which he'll do what he wants until you tell him to go "Active" again. Before you give an order you have to say his name or it won't work."

"You haven't named him?" Cagalli asked, smiling fondly at the creature... robot, she had to remind herself.

"I thought it best that you should. I'm glad you like him." Athrun smiled. Cagalli felt a stirring when she looked at him. She'd been expecting something cool... but this was WAY above and beyond the call of duty. This was a masterpiece, as good or better than a normal pet. And in a form that Athrun really didn't like much. He'd built the damn thing and he was still flinching away from it slightly. God, how many guys would do something like make a pet they were AFRAID of for their girlfriend... wife... whatever!? Not many. And that smile never failed to turn her on... the slightly unconfident, entirely unforced nature of it... yeah, could you say "sexy"? The mouse-robot perked up and climbed off her hand and up her arm. It's "claws" didn't even penetrate her skin, she could barely feel the tickle of its presene once it moved onto her shirt. It bumped its nose against the side of her neck and sat there for a moment, nestling along her collarbone and rubbing softly against the side of her neck. God, it was adorable. It purred and the vibration made her flinch slightly. She put up a hand to catch it, but it rode out the sudden shift with ease.

"Squeak, Squeak." The mouse chirped. It sounded just like a real mouse. "I should name you squeaker, but thats just too trite and cutsy even for me." Cagalli said. She tried to think of a good name, but it was hard with Athrun standing there smiling at her, sending her thoughts in entirely different directions. The mouse perked up again and suddenly started climbing down her shirt. She grabbed for it, but missed it as it disappeared down the front side of her shirts. "What's it doing!?" Cagalli had to fight involuntary chuckles... it tickled something fierce. The could both hear muffled squeaks from inside her shirt as the mouse continued to head downwards.

"Well, it's programmed to seek out the point of greatest heat. That's usually your heart area, or your head." Athrun replied, puzzled.

"Athrun! Do you have ANY idea where the hottest spot on my body CURRENTLY is!?" Cagalli pointed out, fighting the tickle giggles. Athrun watched the mouse work its way down across Cagalli's belly and he started to blush.

"Oh! Ah! Uhm... I see the problem. Well, you can tell him to stop, but you have to give him a name first. Just say "I name you:" and then the name. Then you can tell him to "Come" and he'll head back to your shoulder or hand."

"Athrun! He's... he's climbing down my pants! The fur... it tickles so much! I ca... can't think! How... how... THE HELL...!?" Cagalli trailed off as the mouse reached the warmest detected spot and began to purr. And vibrate. "ATHRUN! You made a PERVERTED MOUSE!"

"He's not a pervert. He's just following his programming. It's not his fault you had a hot flash." Athrun was looking away, hiding the furious blush on his face.

"GET HIM OFF! I CAN'T THINK LIKE THIS!" Cagalli doubled over, crying tickle tears.

"But..."

"DON'T GET SQUEAMISH ON ME, YOU BASTARD! YOU NEED TO FIX THIS! YOU'VE TOUCHED THERE BEFORE!"

"But..." Athrun was red as a beet. "What I do when I'm making love to you and what I can do cold are entirely different, I'm afraid."

"YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS, AREN'T YOU, PERVERT!? WAIT TILL I TELL KIRA YOU MADE ME A VIBRATOR MOUSE AND WATCHED WHILE IT MOLESTED ME! HE'LL KILL YOU!"

"The new Kira? The one with the insatiable sex drive and aggression issues? He'll probably laugh. And maybe ask me to make one for Lacus too." Athrun joked.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY!? IF I COULD STAND UP STRAIGHT I'D KICK YOU!"

"Maybe you should just let things play out. I'll drag you into my room, shut the door and come back in fifteen minutes okay? Then you can name him and we can both go on with our days. Once he has a name we won't ever have this problem again... you can just tell him to "Sleep" and he'll turn off for eight hours or until you wake him up."

"THAT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! IT'S BEEN YEARS SINCE I HAD TO USE A VIB..." Cagalli trailed off and her face went even redder than his. "You didn't hear that! Athrun, damn it, help me! If you don't I will..." Cagalli blanked... she couldn't think of threats under this sort of stimulus.

"Okay, okay... before I wind up murdered in our bed, I'll help you. Just lie still. There you go. Now just spread your legs a little... DAMN IT CAGALLI, THIS ISN'T EASY FOR ME EITHER, SO SPARE ME THE DIRTY LOOKS! Okay... just hold still." Athrun swallowed. This was not what he'd intended... she was never going to let him hear the end of it... and god help him if Dearka and Ysak and Katie found out. Or Kisaka. Or Kira, despite Athrun's joke. "Have you thought of a name yet, by the way?"

"I got a few for YOU!"

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Athor Note: Personally I don't feel I did as well with Athrun and Cagalli as I did with the two chapters before it. Oh, its not bad, and I managed to hit several of the points both reviewers suggested and I wanted... but I don't feel like I really accomplished the same breadth of feeling. As in I don't know in what way, besides small details, this romance differs from the stuff I wrote at the beginning of the story. I hope the A x C fans can forgive me this effort as I ran out of space before I could really put in some "SNAP", some deep looks at the inner Cagalli and Athrun. Though the bits with the mouse do get me chuckling. Forgive me, die hard Athrun fans, but I had to give him a flaw or phobia, and rats are as good as anything, plus I'd mentioned it before. Well in any case, on to Dearka and Miriallia, then my OC's and then the groups. Thanks as always for the reviews.


	98. Goldstruck

"All right Dearka, I can't pass that off as coincidence any more." Miriallia said suddenly, as they walked down one of the seemingly endless staircases leading down from the central city-spire precincts of Februarius One into the more residential areas on the leveler outer parts of the number one continent. They could have taken an express elevator, or even a fast moving escalator, but it was Miriallia's first time on the PLANTS and she was determined to get as much of a taste of them as she could... you could ride elevators or escalators anywhere. The same could not be said of walking down quiet and stately staircases lined with greenry and decorative waterfalls and streams while gazing out at a lush rural paradise framed by the backdrop of outer space. And on the PLANTS, with their relatively small sizes, walking down the stairs wasn't too much of a chore, since even the outer rim was only an hour or two away at a walk. The Elsman estate was only about a forty minute walk from the space port and while they could have covered the same distance in five minutes or less on an express elevator and then public transport, they had elected to walk, for previously stated reasons.

The stairways weren't particularly crowded, mostly people heading down from the hospitals and labs of the central spire to residences and apartments nearer the rim, or else teenagers getting off school and heading up to the malls and other societal delights of the city proper. In a lot of cases it was hard to tell one group from the other... everyone was awfully young by Earth standards, and on the PLANTS, where the legal age of independence was 15, most people got serious jobs early. And not things like working part time at a fast food joint or movie theater... such jobs were usually handled by automatic machines or elderly volunteers on the PLANTS. With a Coordinator's ability to learn and grasp complex concepts and processes at an earlier age, combined with the challenging and competitive nature of their educational society, it wasn't even strange for a child fresh out of their parent's home to find work as a doctor's assistant, medical researcher or any one of a hundred jobs that on Earth would be filled by someone in their mid twenties after getting a bachelors degree in college and attended further years of medical school. Miriallia was from Orb, which was a nation that had one of the highest standards of living on Earth and still she was highly impressed by the near idyllic way life on the PLANTS seemed.

"Can't pass what off as coincidence any more?" Dearka replied, returning a friendly wave from a group of nurses headed upslope to the afternoon shift in the hospitals and recovery wards. The group of teenagers, both male and female, were about his own age. He vaguely remembered seeing some of them in his elementary school classes. He didn't really remember, it had been years and years ago, and a lot had happened since then. Being a Coordinator didn't always give you a perfect memoy, especially when you made no real effort to remember.

"That's the seventh group of girls in the last five minutes to wave and call you by name. Ysak had intimated that you were something of a player in your latter days at school and at the ZAFT academy, but I think this goes a little beyond that! I would have hesitated to ask this before, seeing as it really isn't my business... but I'm just dying to know now! Just how many girlfriends have you had, anyway!?" Mir asked, as nicely as she could manage.

"Umm... they could just be waving at me because I'm the only son of the family in charge of adminstering all of Februarius, you know." Dearka returned, declining to wave at another pair of girls who passed them, giggling as they looked at him. He did remember them. Junior high proms, from two of the six he went to. He eyed Miriallia, who was far from satisfied with his answer and was just giving him a neutral stare that he knew meant he'd better come up with a better explanation fast. "Okay, okay... so I dated around a little bit. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Well that really depends. I'd really hate to start thinking about you as the sort of guy who was a man-slut in junior and high school, both because it's demeaning to you and to me." Miriallia said, her voice getting chillier.

"Man-slut!? How cruel a term is that!? I never slept around... I mean, I may have spent the night at a few houses, fooled around a bit once or twice... but it was nothing serious! Believe me, it was just dating around amongst friends! Happens all the time! I never told anyone I loved them, before you!"

"Since that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Miriallia retorted witheringly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not jealous of your past flings... I've had a few myself after all. I do hope I'm not going to hear a lot of stories about you breaking the hearts of a bunch of your "dating around friends" though. That sort of callous behavior would really make me angry at you."

"Judging me from my youth isn't exactly totally fair... I was an arrogant prick growing up!"

"Was?"

"That hurts, you know. Geez, you can behave good for all the time you know a girl, and then she starts prying into your past and suddenly all the brownie points go down the drain! It's not fair!"

"Given your response this isn't the first time a female companion has tried to "pry into" your past, is it?" Miriallia glanced away. "I should be very disappointed in you."

"But... Mir... what... wait-a-minute... you're teasing me, aren't you!?" Dearka accused. Miriallia turned and showed him the smirk she'd been working to hide. "Oh, that's funny all right. Had my heart in my throat and she's giggling. Yeah, you call me shallow."

"Glad to find a topic even you're embarrassed about. Should have seen the look on your face... haven't seen you look that panicked and scared since the battle outside Orb." Miriallia faltered slightly, remembering the battle herself. She shook it off. "Don't be so full of yourself... what do I care what other girl's think of you... you know what I think of you is what counts, right?"

"Oh, yeah, most definitely." Dearka agreed, both because it was true and because it was the only safe answer. "You're really going to have to keep your wicked sense of humor under wraps while we're at my house, just to warn you. I can take a joke at my expense, usually. My mom and dad can't, generally. And my siblings... yikes, I don't even wanna think about you conniving with my sisters."

"Aww, you don't think your sisters and I will get along?"

"No, I think you will. You and Cagalli and Katie would all get along great with my sisters. Which is what I'm dreading. I'm already outnumbered with just you... now there's going to be five against one." Dearka groaned. "When you meet my sisters you'll see why I was always dating around... I had to get revenge at you feminine devils somehow." Dearka shifted the load of the straps of their luggage on his shoulders and grabbed Mir by her hand, both to reassure her and to keep himself from any more less than constructive behavior. If years of being a playboy had taught him anything about girls, learning what they meant when they said "no, it's fine" or "I don't mind you looking and waving at other girls" or other outwardly pleasant and tolerant phrases was it. Mir was better about clearly explaining to him what she considered kosher in terms of his relationships with other girls and what was out of bounds than most of his girlfriends had been, but when a girl started denying that she was bothered by something you were doing, THAT was the time to start taking a good hard look at how she might be feeling, because she probably truly WAS bothered and was likely just being nice in public. Save yourself a lot of grief in the long run... a hard lesson he hadn't learned quickly. The thoughts sobered him quite a bit.

"Don't think I'd relate well to someone who hasn't been along for the ride anyway." He muttered, so low Mir, standing right next to him, could barely even hear a mumble.

"What's that?" Mir mock frowned. "Making smart comments under your breath are you?"

"Why should I need to? You're a Natural... as long as I don't grunt and scratch myself, you probably won't understand me anyway." Dearka replied, casually enough.

"Well, as long as you don't expect me to start picking lice out of your hair, I won't get mad at you for using terms beyond my knowledge." Miriallia rolled her eyes. "I hope you weren't trying to make me mad or upset, because that was really pathetic."

"Coming from me, yes." Dearka replied with a small grin that quickly faded. "But I can't account for everything that the people of Febuarius might say to you. There's a significant percentage of people here that consider Natural's a waste of time and space. They don't understand why anyone wouldn't make their child a Coordinator, and they often have trouble telling the difference between giving an opinion or making an unsolicited slander attack. Course, we don't exactly have that many Naturals around here to offend, usually, but well..."

"Don't freak out if someone gets in my face about genetics in public?" Miriallia sighed, amazed that he could think her so thin skinned. Compared to mobile suits trying to blast her into tiny little pieces, or insane bio-engineered little freaks trying to skin her alive, what was a few biased personal opinions, no matter how personally or harshly delievered?

"Well... that, and also... remember who my family is." Dearka said, eyes on the ground. "My dad's the worst, since he likes to argue and hates to admit he's wrong... but my mom and sisters tend to toss around terms like "Flatscans" or "Slot-Machine Babies" even in casual conversation. I used to be the same way. You know how lots of Naturals are jealous of Coordinators because of our abilities and whatnot... well, there's a significant number of Coordinators who regard Naturals as barely above the level of apes in the trees, on an cultural and evolutionary scale... anti-jealousy, you could call it. Arrogant pity, in other terms. I'll do what I can to remind them that you might consider such terms offensive, but... just... try not to flip out if they say something insensitive, okay?"

"So I have to be the grown up adult then?" Miriallia pouted at him. "That isn't very much fun. I was really looking foward to having a raging hissy fit with your Dad. A real socio-political meltdown to clear the air between us, you know. I think it would do him... and YOU... good." Miriallia watched Dearka turn pale... which, considering his tanned skin, made him look absolutely ghastly... and shook her head. White knight syndrome didn't suit Dearka at all. "I'm a big girl, Dearka. I'll be just fine, don't you worry. I won't go picking any fights, but I'm not going to turn the other cheek either. Something of an Orb national tradition, I think you'll find. How could I ever look Cagalli in the eye as an Orb citizen if I just let my lover's father walk all over me and my opinions just because I'm a Natural?"

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you." Dearka replied quietly, burying his worries. How bad could it be, after all? His dad would blow up at him, he would blow up at his dad, Mir would blow up at his dad, his dad would make a series of cutting personal critiques that would leave Mir in tears, he'd end up punching his own dad out... Dearka forced himself not to think about it. They were supposed to be relaxing, not stressing out more. He wished he was on a battlefield somewhere. By himself. With an entire squadron of Merciless's and Fury's arrayed against him. In a Strike Dagger with broken legs. Anywhere, no matter how dire. Anywhere but walking towards his parent's house, with his Natural girlfriend by his side, who'd as much as stated an intent to provoke his volcanically tempered dad into a shouting match that Athrun and Cagalli would probably be able to feel the vibrations from on December City. The staircase they were descending took a sharp angled turn that his muscle memory remembered well, and then there was no more time to worry... the Elsman estate lay spread out before them. He heard Mir stop and gasp in apparent awe. He supposed he couldn't blame her... his dad's place was something of a sight, at least the first few times.

"This... this is ALL your family's!?" Miriallia whispered in shock. She'd lived on space stations for most of her life, so she was more than familiar with the concept of space being at a premium. Power, water, heating, cooling, air recycling, waste control, food production... all those systems took up a huge amount of space when they were supporting long term habitats for hundreds of thousands of people. Housing generally consisted of apartment style complexes for all but the very well off, and even the most expensive private homes were barely above middle class quality on Earth. So far what she'd seen in the PLANTS suggested that things were less crowded and more roomy here, but she'd been expecting a couple thousand square feet of space, maybe two or three floors, with a small pool or jacquizzi, maybe a garden in front. That was what the Heliopolis Mayor's home had been like. The Elsman estate looked like it had just been freshly transplanted from the hills of Italy onto Febuarius One.

"Pretty much. A lot of it we hold in trust for the city... we certainly can't eat all those crops just by ourselves." Dearka eyed the plantations in question with a familiar and critical eye. Looked like everything but the plum orchard was thriving as usual, and the plum orchard had always had problems with its irrigation and drainage... it was always either dry as a bone or wet as a swamp. That and the crop was frequently picked over by students from the nearby schools on dares, or just looking for a sweet treat for after lunch. Technically it was a misdemeanor to "steal" produce from the Elsman estate, but that really only applied if you got caught... and despite a multitude of motion sensor activated cameras, it was rare that culprits actually got caught. Perhaps because someone had programmed a few flaws into the system to cover his own childhood forays, maybe. And besides, it wasn't like they were uprooting trees or stripping the place bare... it was just a few dozen plums every month or two.

"How... how big is this place?" Miriallia was still staring, goggle eyed, at the checkered expanses of fields, orchards, utility sheds, greenhouses, storage barns, irrigation systems, ponds, groves of trees and other rural, idyllic features that you wouldn't exactly expect to see on a space station. She was pretty sure she could see a vineyard on a distant hill, complete with its own old fashioned manual wine press and other assorted equipment for the making and bottling of wine. Small ATV trucks with hoppers full of harvested crops, or tanks of liquid fertilizers and nutrient suppliments trundled through many fields, and teams of organized people of all ages were visible everywhere, tending plants, repairing mechanical systems or even just walking around aimlessly, just seeming to enjoy themselves.

"Two dozen square kilometers all told. It extends around most of the outer circumference of the city. About a third of it is actually OURS, the rest is owned by the city but operated and maintained by my family." Dearka replied, happy to enjoy himself playing tour guide while he could. "We provide forty percent of the fresh produce for Febuarius One due to our weekly harvest rotation. We grow pretty much anything you can think of, from potatos to pineapples, all of it genetically engineered to stay fresh longer, grow faster, and use less resources while it grows. Most of the plants also enrich the soil as part of their life cycle, generating us roughly five thousand tons of new, crop ready mulch every month, which we usually export to Junius or use for the few crops that are not positively enrichment balanced, mostly the orchards."

"Is it all hand gathered? Isn't that kind of... inefficient?" Miriallia asked, nodding at the work parties picking fruit or vegetation by hand and carefully placing it in personal sacks or ATV carried hoppers.

"Some things we use automated harvesting systems, like wheat, corn and other tall, closely packed starch type producers. But most of the fruits and ground born vegetables are indeed harvested by hand, and you are right, ordinarily that would be highly inefficient... the Junius colonies are almost entirely automated in their production of similar crops. But ninety nine percent of the people you see down there, except for anyone wearing a dark blue set of coveralls, is a hospital outpatient in the last few weeks and months of their recovery process, when they've been judged fit enough to leave the hospital's direct care but still need to be nearby in case of potential future complications or non debilitative treatments. Of course, working hours are generally light, voluntary in many cases, but most people are all too glad to get out of small enclosed rooms and doing something productive again, especially the war wounded. We pay them a minimal stipend, and workers are also allowed an allotment of their choice of the harvest every week, for them and their family, completely free as well. Free fresh produce, even in the PLANTS, is far from a minor reward, when most people still eat frozen or manufactured meals breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was something of a... downward switch for me, the first few weeks of five minute dinners." Dearka made a face, remembering his ravaged taste buds.

"And I assume you... I mean, the Elsman's, do make a tidy profit off all this?" Miriallia wondered, shaking her head. War wounded cycling through as harvest workers before returning to the front lines... PLANT society sure did have its beautifully designed aspects. She'd wondered at its efficiency... what could be more efficient than gainfully employing battleworn and injured people in the relatively simple business of tending, nurturing and providing a source of life for their community? Certainly better than leaving them cooped up in room upon room of tiered bunkbeds, with nothing better to do than go out on the town and get into trouble.

"Well, yeah... it is our land after all." Dearka shrugged. "The city pays us twenty five percent of the profit on crops grown on "their" land, and handles the pay and food supplies of the workers, while also exempting us from taxes on the crops grown on our personal soil, allowing us to sell it more competitively. You'd have to ask my mom for the details... she's the one with degrees in Agricultural Science, Land Utilization Processes, Agricultural Geology, Space Agriculture and Business Accounting. But I think we pull down something like forty to fifty million dollars a year from our crops." Dearka shrugged, to Miriallia's amazement, as if that much money was just "ho hum". "With Dad and my older sister's salaries, it's closer to sixty million a year. Of course, we see about two million of that for family use, the rest gets dumped back into financial markets, personal research projects and charity organizations. My parents are major fundraisers for the Clyne Faction... The Elsman Foundation for Peaceful Lives has been sending Lacus checks for one point five million dollars a month ever since Jachin Due."

Miriallia shook her head, overwhelmed. I mean, she'd known, at some level, that Dearka's family was wealthy and important... his dad was on the PLANTS Supreme Council after all, and was effectively Mayor of all the Febuarius Colony's... but sixty million dollars of income a year, no matter how it was invested or used... that was a LOT of money. And the level of personal education he spoke of... "What level degrees does your mom have?" Miriallia asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

"Huh?" Dearka lost his train of thought for a moment. He'd just been thinking how good Mir would look in shorts, t-shirt and sun hat, working in the orchards or vineyard with him. He was sure his dad or mom would put him to work somehow and not just let him lie around the house anyway, so he planned to head them off by volunteering himself first. Show them that he was NOT the same Dearka that had run away from home two years ago. "We only have one level of degree. We call it "Comprehensive Certification" or C2 for short... I'm pretty sure its close to Doctorates or whatever you call it on Earth. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering." Miriallia rolled her eyes. His mom had five doctorates... four of them related, but she hadn't even know it was possible to get a doctorate level education in Business Accounting. "I don't suppose your mother is... exceptional... for her education, considering her age and social position?"

"Compared to Ysak's or Athrun's mom she's pretty lazy actually. My mom went into semi-retirement shortly after she married my dad, by common agreement, or so I hear. She wanted a big family, and she wanted to be there for all her kids, at least as much as possible. That's why she just runs the finances and the farms. It's really more of a hobby. What's that exasperated look for?" Dearka answered, warily eyeing Mir.

"Your mother has five top level education certifications and runs a multi-million dollar business as a hobby?" Miriallia asked, just trying to ensure her facts were straight. "So that she can spend more time with your sisters and you?"

"Well, she also does a lot of political things in support of my dad, who can be hard to pry out of the lab at times. But yeah, that's pretty much true. What about it?"

"Spoiled little rich boy." Mir shook her head, hands on her hips. "Seriously."

"I'm not a spoiled rich boy! I've been disowned, remember? And I'm quite a bit bigger than you!" Dearka protested.

"FORMER spoiled little rich boy. I don't suppose you had to work a part time job picking up trash and mowing lawns in middle school so you could afford your prom clothing, did you? Or that you had to take out a loan your family will be twenty years in paying off in order to get into a good technical college? Do you even know what the word DEBT means?" Miriallia retorted. "After taxes, before everything else, my parents make about a hundred and thirty thousand dollars a year, maybe eight to twelve of which makes it into their savings account and retirment funds every year. Most of it goes towards cost of living, our house mortage, two car payments and my college loans. Before I was old enough to babysit I did thirty hours a week of chores around the house at two dollars an hour to pay for anything I wanted, like a scooter or a phone. I worked forty hours a week in addition to going to school in Heliopolis in order to pay rent on a small duplex I shared with three other girls, since my parents couldn't afford it. My dad has a Master's degree in Applied Aerospace Engineering, which means he's a supervisor at a suborbital jet transport factory, while my mom has a bachelors in Accounting and one in Law, so she works as a finance advisor for small businesses. Both my parents work fifty hours or more a week, and we don't vacation often or very far."

"Are you... mad at me, Mir?" Dearka asked, puzzled and wary.

"No, I'm not mad at YOU." Miriallia shook her head again. "Just lifestyle envy, I guess. How am I supposed to feel like a contributing member of a family if my education, unless I spend tens of thousands of dollars and decades of time, is going to be roughly equal to that of a twelve year old's and so my income is likely to be about a significant digit smaller than..." Miriallia trailed off, pulse pounding a bit faster than usual. She'd been about to say "my husband's". But that was a way big step forward, so much that she froze up just thinking about it. She wasn't even eighteen yet. Okay, maybe she wasn't a virgin any longer, and maybe she had been through some pretty serious romantic trauma in the past few years, enough to put many girls she knew in strong, supervised therapy. Her entire life was topsy turvy right now, with Orb an occupied nation, unable to contact her own parents, much less begin rebuilding her old life. And if it wasn't already dead, her hope for starting a new life in the PLANTS instead had just been crushed by this casual conversation. She just wouldn't be competitive in this society in any meaningful way. Maybe she could get a job based on her combat experience, but she'd never advance very far and certainly not very fast. If she really was going to potentially have to live in the PLANTS for a long time, perhaps the rest of her life, she'd pretty much have to mooch from her friends to survive, and that left her feeling sick inside. Well, either that or she could become a very permanent part of Dearka's life.

Not that he would mind that, she knew. No, he was hers for the asking, she knew that. The trouble was convincing herself. It made her feel quite shameful at times, continuing this relationship with a man who had once ripped her world to shreds with a casual and unfortunate comment. She'd almost murdered him, a helpless prisoner at the time, and she hadn't felt anything but self righteous and self pity at the time. But despite that, despite all the times she'd teased him forward, only to push him away when he got close, all the times she'd abused his feelings for her, even in small ways, he'd remained steadily determined to protect her. And then it had evolved into a great deal more than just a desire to protect her, and it had taken the intervention of Cagalli and Lacus for her to realize she was still abusing his feelings. And he had accepted her apology, such as it was, unconditionally. He'd treated her like she was the center of his universe, adhering to her every rule and whim, despite his own feelings and wishes as she struggled to build a relationship with him when she still wasn't totally sure of her own feelings.

Oh, there was no doubt that she had deep personal feelings for him. That she loved him. She knew what that felt like, because it was how she'd felt about Tolle. And Dearka had been there for her in a lot of ways Tolle probably couldn't have been. Dearka had trusted her in ways that Tolle would have found hard to do, bringing her into battle not just on the same side as her, but actually alongside himself... and not allowing his own actions to be unduly influenced by her presence, mostly. Say what you would about eternal devotion and other stuff like that, how could you say "I love you and trust you" more than by putting your own life into that person's hands on multiple occasions without even hesitating? Dearka didn't treat her like an inferior, even though he was smarter than her, stronger than her, tougher than her, richer than her, more skilled and talented in most things than she was and was generally a shining diamond compared to her flawed quartz. Instead, he looked up to her, relied upon her, treated her like she was an integral part of whatever he was doing. In combat he didn't coddle her, didn't tell her to stay and wait to be protected by him... he asked that she come along and help him, because he couldn't do it by himself. What more could a girl want from a guy, besides trust, support and honesty, all of which Dearka gave to her unhesitatingly?

But still... still, despite not just that, but the intimacy they'd shared, the mutual gasps and cries of physical and mental pleasure, the closeness of a single bed, a single seat, a single time and place and intention... despite that, she still found herself stopping just short of taking the final step. She knew many of her friends were already crossing that line, or were planning to cross it soon. They had their minds made up, and despite trials and travails, Mir had no doubt that things would work out. Seeing Kira and Lacus happy together, only the blindest and most self deceiving could deny the depth of their bond. Even if they never married officially, they were as good as, even better than. Trying to ascribe to or ask for the blessing of a higher power on their relationship was not only redundant but slightly demeaning. The same for Cagalli and Athrun. Sometimes two people were just MEANT for each other, and you could tell at a glance. Oh, sometimes there would be arguments and blowups, since people were human after all, or it might take time to realize it, but even Cagalli admitted to having been smitten by Athrun from the moment she met him, even though they were enemies at the time... it was only her feelings for Kira that made her at all hesitant or uncertain, or later the loss of her Father. As for Lacus... well, Lacus wouldn't talk on the matter, but when Miriallia looked back on the time when Lacus was a "sort of" prisoner on the Archangel and Kira directly disobeyed orders to return her to Athrun... well, morality of war aside, that wasn't a risk you just took with anyone. Lacus was good hearted and forgiving to an extreme... but she was far from the naive or silly pop star girl many people assumed she was.

But Miriallia was conflicted because she DIDN'T have that sort of total surety with Dearka. She loved him. Loved the way he looked, the way he smiled, the way he held her hand, told jokes neither of them listened too, never let anyone take life too seriously, was there for his friends whenever they needed company, was away from his friends whenever they needed space, the way he talked with her, both on the battlefield and off, the way he panicked over such inconsequential things, while also treating the most dire of situations like it was all a big joke. She loved how he could make her smile when she was depressed, make her laugh when she was angry, help her see the absurd side of things when everthing seemed overwhelming. She loved how he whispered in her ear at night, and how his hands roved and teased, under her control and yet controlling her at the same time, playing her skin and her nerves like a musical instrument. She loved waking up next to him in the morning, with all the sheets on her side and most of the pillows as well, as he pretended to be asleep and played with her fingers or toes. The mental desire was there. The emotional desire was there. The physical desire was there. And she knew he returned them all, in spades and more. But she still couldn't shake the nervousness, and every time she started to hint at that final step, she choked and she still couldn't figure out why. And so she kept Dearka waiting, and felt both glad, because he continued to patiently wait for her like he always promised... and sad, because she was making such a wonderful and giving person sacrifice his life and potential happiness for her. But she definitely couldn't tell him to get lost either... that would be like tearing out her own heart through her nose. It was enough to make a girl want to cry and pound her head through a wall at times.

"Well, I don't think you need to worry too much about that. I've got something of a reputation as a lazy son of a bitch to maintain. Long as you generate some sort of positive cashflow, I promise I'll use up as much of your hard earned money as I can on trivial pursuits, so you can feel properly adult and exasperated at my irresponsibility. Trust me, I won't complain at all." Dearka smirked. "Besides, for someone with the education of a twelve year old, you're awfully cute, especially when you're chewing your lip in rage like that." Dearka began sidling away from her, down the staircase.

"Dearka..." Miriallia trailed off and looked at him right in his attentive face. "I love you."

"Oh." Dearka paused, and then a devilish smile crossed his features. "Well thank you. I'm rather fond of myself too, come to think of it. I'm smart, funny, athletic, charismatic, adorable..."

"Endangered."

"Yes, endange... AHK! Not the head! Anywhere but the head!" Dearka took off down the stairs at a steady lope, as Miriallia pushed and pummeled at his back, both of them laughing loud enough to be clearly heard in the fields several hundred meters away. Several people looked up and then promptly got back to work. Just another pair of silly, lovey-dovey teens. They were all over the PLANTS. Just another reminder of what they were all fighting to protect, once they were pronounced well enough to return to their units. A time which couldn't come soon enough for some. There were rumors and hints already hitting the local grapevines... something big was coming. Soon. What exactly... well, ask twelve different people and you'd likely get close to a dozen different stories. One of them might even be true.

--

For a property as huge as it was on, the actual Elsman house wasn't very big at all. She'd been expecting a huge castle or mansion, but the estate, while certainly extravagent for a space environment, wasn't any ritzier than any of several hundred houses she'd once delievered newspapers to down in Orb. Two levels, with the bottom level mostly underground, perhaps five thousand square feet all told, plus a seperate garage, all done in what looked like white washed adobe bricks, with bronze tinted metallic windows and bright red painted doors and trim. Dearka had said that the upper level was mostly kitchen, dining room, a small lounge area and bedrooms for his mom and dad and sisters. Downstairs was a large entertainment area, storage rooms, utility/machinery rooms, a hobby workshop, and bedrooms for Dearka and any guests. There was also a large walk out patio and garden overhung by a deck from the upper story, and it was actually to there that Dearka led her, not to the front door. Apparently the Elsman family had a tradition of spending as much time outside relaxing when they were at home as possible, due to how much time they spent indoors while at work. It was similar to the tradition of old Latin and Central American nations of taking a break during the heat of midday, called a "siesta", during which all serious activity, beyond non-athletic entertainment or eating lunch, was suspended. Dearka summed it up as "play hard, work harder", which were apparently his father's words.

Despite her strong assertations of earlier, Miriallia couldn't help but feel nervous. She was being invited into a guy's home, to stay for a while and meet his family. She'd spent time at Tolle's house, had met and got along well with his parents, had illictly made out in his room behind a mostly closed door on several occasions... but that experience didn't exactly prepare her for meeting a senior member of the PLANT government and his wife and other children, all Coordinators, in their own home, which was orders of magnitude bigger and more expensive than any house she'd ever been to before. Still, she refused to let herself be totally intimidated by the location... because at least one of them had to be brave anyway. Dearka was looking like a rat trapped in a bucket being lowered into a firepit, and she could actually feel his hand trembling in hers. Her Dearka, who had faced down the likes of Cray Thresher and Zacharis Frost with fire in his eyes and steel in his spine, was shaking with dread at the prospect of meeting his OWN PARENTS. It was almost funny, and more than a little sad. Miriallia used those feelings to bolster her own... by the end of their time at the Elsman house, Dearka would never be afraid to meet his parents again, she promised herself.

They rounded the corner of the house and the patio came into view. It was a charmingly designed place of blue and green brick tiles, with several large shade trees and a central fountain, from which streams of water flowed all across the patio area through small channels, about a foot wide and a foot deep, that etched geometric shapes of shiny, light reflecting water in the blue-green background. It was a deeply peaceful place, with plenty of indirect sunlight and ventilation, but cooled by enough shade from the deck overhead and the trees that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable staying there for long periods of time. The gentle sound of falling and running water all around also served to subconsciously relax people, while the evaporation from the water cooled the ambient temperature still further, down to the high sixties, rather than the near constant low eighties of the greater PLANT environment. The perfect place to eat a lunch after working in the sun for a few hours, or go to calm down after stressful time in the office. There was a small crowd of people apparently doing just those things, sitting in small groups around tables or by the trunks of trees. However, most of those people, older Coordinators mostly, quite a few of them obviously war wounded, got up and left as Miriallia and Dearka approached, muttering polite thank you's and good byes to Tad Elsman, who had been talking with a group of Coordinators clad in the long blue coats of politicians near the center of the patio area.

Miriallia felt pretty much each and every Coordinator there give her a surprised look at the very least, and more than a few gazes were cool or even downright coldly angry, as various Coordinators made their way off the patio area and back into the fields. It was more than just "you interrupted my lunch break" looks... some of these people were actually angered by her presence, plainly viewing her as an enemy just because she was a Natural. She supposed she could understand why some might think like that, given all the terrible things Naturals had done to Coordinators, largely unprovoked... but it was still no fun to be judged before people got to know her. Dearka's hand released hers, but then his arm draped itself protectively across her shoulders and returned some of the more hostile looks with a calmly baleful look of his own as they reached the now largely empty patio area. The group of politicians nodded as Mr. Elsman told them something and they moved into the house as a group, holding computers and sheathes of documents and talking animatedly amongst themselves... though Miriallia still caught more than a few of them shooting her discreet glances as well. She squared her shoulders a bit more, and put her own arm around Dearka's waist. She may be the minority here, might make some people uncomfortable... but that was their problem. She wasn't going to lump people into a category without getting to know them first, even if most of them wouldn't give her the same courtesy.

Dearka's family seemed to appear from the ground like ghosts... Miriallia could have sworn that one moment Mr. Elsman was alone, and then the next he was joined by four younger women with the same deeply tanned skin, purple eyes and blond hair Dearka had, as well as an older woman with black skin, red hair and brilliant blue eyes. Mr. Elsman and his two oldest daughters were dressed in casual-formal wear, and there were a trio of labcoats folded over the backs of nearby chairs that looked to be theirs. The third oldest daughter wore a blue politicians coat and the youngest daughter, the only one younger than Dearka and Miriallia, was dressed in some sort of school uniform, while his mother was wearing a formal jacket and professional skirt, suitable for a lawyer or legal assistant. Mir almost felt under dressed, considering she was in a comfortable skirt, T-shirt and light, short sleeved, open front coat. Dearka was also dressed in just slightly rumpled slacks and a t-shirt, though she had noticed that he'd tucked the shirt into his pants and was wearing a belt today, which was much more than he usually did in casual situations. Of course, this wasn't really a casual situation for him, was it?

"Dearka." Mr. Elsman said shortly, obviously searching for a good way to start things off.

"Dad. Mom. Assorted evil demons." Dearka nodded at his parents and sisters. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything important?"

"Just some city business." Mr. Elsman shrugged. "They can wait. Though I must say, I was expecting you quite some time ago. You took your time getting here." He not quite accused.

"I wanted a scenic tour." Miriallia was quick to speak up. "I've never been to the PLANT's before, and other space colonies... don't really compare."

"We never did like the idea of living like termites in a hive. I'll never understand how... other people... could stand it." The second oldest sister, who had the longest hair, near Lacus style, replied breezily, her verbal correction the only mar. Obviously she'd been about to say something about Naturals, but had caught herself at the last moment. Miriallia almost wished she'd just said what she'd thought... the last thing she needed was conversations full of polite omissions bogging everything down. She was actually interested to know what sort of racial slurs there WERE for Naturals... space-monsters was the only one she knew about for Coordinators.

"It's all in what you're used to, I guess." Miriallia shrugged. "It took some time adjusting from living in Orb to living on Heliopolis, but humans can adapt to pretty much any environment if you give them time, right? My name is Miriallia Haww, I'm very glad to meet you all, and you for the second time, Mr. Elsman, under less stressful circumstances."

"I'm Elizabeth Elsman." Dearka's mom, with her rare combination of black skin and naturally red hair and blue eyes, stepped forward to clasp Miriallia's free hand in both of her own. "It's my pleasure to welcome any woman able to tame my wild son and bring him back to me to my house. Please call me Liz... I hate being called Elizabeth or Mrs. Elsman outside of work. Let me introduce you to our family properly, since the men seem unable to muster the nerve." Liz shot reproachful glances at Mr. Elsman and Dearka, who'd both been not quite glaring at each other over Mr. Elsman's comment on timeliness. "All right ladies, go ahead. You've got voices."

"I'm Kamilla." The oldest daughter, who looked to be in that mid twenties range most Coordinators lived in for the greater part of their lives and had shoulder length hair done up in a pratical bun. "Please call me Kami. And if Dearka tells you to call me Kamil, feel free to twist his nose off to spare me the trouble. I work with my dad in biochemisty and genealogical research."

"I'm Adelle, pleased to meet you." The girl with the long hair said, with a slight sniff and a stiff posture that said to Mir that she wasn't particularly pleased, who looked only slightly younger than Kamilla. "I'm twenty two by the way, in case you were wondering, and everyone is born two years apart. It can be hard to tell, since we don't age as fast as... you people. I also work with dad and Kam, though I'm a cosmetic surgeon by training."

"My name is Lynset. Call me Lyn please." The third daughter had a warm, sunny smile and a mischevious glint in her eyes that definitely reminded Mir of Dearka. "I'm daddy's secretary and thusly the omnipotent ruler of this city. I'm sure we're going to get along INCREDIBLY well. I can't wait to pick your brain, Miriallia, and let you pick mine. I'm certain theres SO many interesting things we can tell each other about Dearka. And there's nothing you can do to stop me, little brother." Lyn chuckled happily, even as Dearka rolled his eyes.

"I'm Marionne. Please, PLEASE call me Mari." The youngest daughter, who would be fourteen if what Adelle said was true, said with a heavy sigh. "I'm in what Nu... you people would call College. I'm going to be working in Artificial Environment Construction. Please don't ask me about it, I'm not sure I can bring it down to the level of a N... I mean, its kinda complex." Mari twisted away from the elbow Lyn dug into her side. "And I don't think we're going to get along at all. I hate Nulls like you!"

"Mari!" Liz Elsman said sharpely. "Apologize this moment!"

"Um, what's a Null?" Miriallia asked with a smile. "Well, I mean, it must mean Naturals like me... but why that word?"

Dearka heaved a heavy sigh of his own and shot a daggerlike look at his younger sister. "It... it refers to the fact that when Naturals have children with Coordinators, the babies are always Coordinators. Genetically speaking, Naturals are always a "zero" compared to a Coordinator's "one" or "two" or whatever."

"Oh. That makes sense... in a nerdy, socially awkward, geeky way." Miriallia smiled and shook her head in amazement. Nulls. It was insulting... sort of... but come ON!? How could she feel bad, especially when it was coming from a fourteen year old? Admittedly one who was at least as educated as she was, but still... fourteen was not the most mature of ages. Hell, seventeen going on eighteen wasn't a very mature age either, come to think of it. "Well... that's just the way of things isn't it? Some genes are dominant, some are recessive. We've known about that for centuries, right?"

"Well..." Mari was wrongfooted, since she'd been expecting ANYTHING but chuckles and a polite and logical dismissal.

"Let's get this out into the open." Miriallia interrupted. "I'm a Natural. Dearka is a Coordinator, as are all of you. However, regardless of the circumstances of our birth, or the choices of our parents during our time in the womb, we're still all human beings, right? We all get old, we all die eventually. We laugh, we cry, we have good days and bad days. I know Naturals... speaking of the greater group... have been intolerant of and actively violent against Coordinators. But I don't hate Coordinators, and the people of Orb, my nation, don't hate Coordinators either, as a whole. As a matter of fact, I really admire Coordinators in general, and one specific Coordinator especially. I'm also hoping to be able to get the chance to admire his family too, and receive their admiration in turn. I'm not asking that you forget your feelings for Naturals as a whole... just try to judge me by what I do, not by what EVERYONE has done, okay?"

"Well, what DO you do then, besides... well... you know... with my brother." Mari blushed, unable to speak her accusation out loud, in front of her family.

"Hey!" Dearka made as if to step forward to accost his younger sister more directly. "Didn't you..."

"Back off, Dearka, its's a perfectly good question." Miriallia pulled him back to her. "I'm not afraid of direct questions. I actually prefer them. By all means, I'd much rather be grilled on my personal life by a hostile audience than shoot at... and get shot at... by people I would probably be friends with if I had the chance." She turned a frosty look of her own on Mari. "However, you'll be disappointed if you expect me to play nice if you don't want to play nice yourself, Mari. I used to be the sort of girl that would let herself get pushed around, but that was a good long while ago. But to answer your question, I was a Liberal Arts student, my major was Film and Photography, with a minor in Journalism. But then ZAFT attacked Heliopolis and I became part of the crew of the Archangel after Heliopolis was destroyed. I served as the Combat Information Controller for the Archangel for its entire service in the first Valentine War, which means I was the person in charge of relaying orders from the Captain to the crew, including the mobile suit pilots, and then relaying the reports from the crew and pilots back to the Captain. It's very stressful, and I had to watch, helplessly, as several people who were... very close to me... died on the battlefields." Mir swallowed hard at the memory.

"You're a soldier?" Adelle asked, somewhat sceptically. "You're a bit young for an Earth Forces..."

"I'm a volunteer." Miriallia interrupted. "My friend was risking his life to protect me and several dozen civilians, and it was really hurting him to do it. So I, along with my friends, volunteered to help the short handed crew however we could, to help my friend. By the time I was given the opportunity to stop, I'd already become a part of the crew, and I've never regretted my decision to stay for long. That's not to say I haven't regretted it at times, but overall... no. I wouldn't have it another way now, unless of course I could have somehow magically stopped the war earlier of course."

"You're really a soldier?" Mari was obviously stunned. "But you're... pretty. Kind of."

Ouch. Okay, so maybe some prejudice DID hurt. Miriallia was trying to figure out how to respond to what was obviously a deeply held opinion Mari didn't even realize was offensive, but Dearka stepped up to bat before she could find a good solution. "Marionne." Dearka's tone was firm and direct, and Mir knew just from that that he was truly angry. Dearka wasn't serious often, and almost never FULLY serious, even in battle... but this was his one hundred percent serious voice. "Watch what you say. We all have feelings that can be hurt, and I'd really not like to see someone crying just when I get home again."

"Well, its not MY fault if she's sensitive! It's just a fact, right?" Mari retorted defensively.

"I wasn't talking about Miriallia." Dearka replied coldly. "Mir can take any stupid thing you have to say without blinking, even if it does hurt her feelings. Mir can take a lot more punishment, verbal, emotional, even physical... than you'd think. More than I can at times. Certainly more than you can, pipsqueak."

"Don't call me that!" Mari retorted, flushing a bit. "I'll get taller!"

"You're missing the point, dummy." Lyn reproached, winking at Dearka and Miriallia over her little sister's head.

"I'm not a DUMMY!" Mari protested. "I get perfect grades in school and..."

"And you're still missing the point." Kam sighed and glanced at the sky, as if praying for patience. "Regardless of your grades, you've managed to make your brother... who's nicer to you than anyone else in this family, if you can remember that far back... really mad, and you've hurt Miriallia's feelings, even if she is too mature to show it. You're being rude and thoughtless to a guest who might someday be your sister-in-law, and she's been nothing but respectful and kind back to you. It's shameful, really. I'm kind of embarassed that you're my sister."

"It IS a statistically proven fact that military women... Naturals anyway... are commonly rated as less attractive than civilian females of identical age and backgrounds." Adelle spoke up in defense of her little sister... mostly just because she didn't particularly care for the impudent mooch hanging off her kid brother much either.

"It's also a statistically proven fact that you can use statistics to make anything into a "fact" if you chew the data through enough filters." Miriallia spoke up. "I'll admit, you four girls are definitely a lot prettier than me. So is Lacus Clyne for that matter. I personally think Cagalli is way hotter than me too, but that's just my opinion. I'm happy with the way I look, and I don't see any real reason to get worked up over someone who I've just met's opinion, even if it does sting my pride a bit. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I firmly believe, and..."

"This beholder certainly sees beauty." Dearka finished for her. "She's definitely prettier than some gangly, breastless kid with a big mouth, theres no doubt of that. And looks aren't even the point at all, kiddo. You think a bullet cares how pretty you are? Or a knife? Do you think it matters so much if you look like a goddess or a tomboy while you're risking your life to save millions of people you've never even met? Can how you look help you when it's life or death for you and all your friends that you can give them the right info at the right time, as close to ten times out of ten as it's possible to get? Can "pretty" save a single innocent life by itself?" Dearka snorted heavily. "You can keep "pretty" like you meant it. Mir's beautiful not only because of how she looks, but because of WHO she is and WHAT she does, and that's the sort of thing that isn't affected by being a Coordinator or not at all."

"Looks aside, son, have you considered the realites of the situation!?" Mr. Elsman, who had been silently watching from the corners of the verbal brawl, spotted his opportunity to make his point and moved in. "Through no fault of her own, Miriallia is still a Natural, with the vulnerabilities and disadvantages thereof. Reproductive disadvantages like what Marionne brought up are just one part of the problem. Natural's are vulnerable to all sorts of viruses and chronological illnesses, especially as they get older. Cancer. Alzheimer's. Dietary onset Diabetes. Heart disease. Kidney failure. The list is huge. Modern genetic science has cured most "hand me down" genetic flaws, but old age is old age. The body breaks down and eventually cannot repair itself, even with outside help. And the age at which that happens is twenty to forty years younger for Naturals than Coordinators, sometimes more! It's a biological fact of life!"

Mr. Elsman's point was one of the things Miriallia herself was worried about, long term anyway. Nobody liked looking at their own mortality, and it was especially hard to look at it when you knew that when you were lying on your deathbed, your partner... husband or just lover, whichever... would still be in late middle age. Still able to perhaps marry someone else, able to enjoy another thirty years of active, medically unassisted life. That she'd probably never live long enough to see a single wrinkle on Dearka's skin, even long after she'd grown used to her own. But the key phrase was "long term worry". She had a good while to come to terms with the end of her life, and she didn't want such morbid considerations to be a determining factor in how she lived her life NOW. Hell, with things going like they were, there were pretty good chances she'd never have to worry about it, because she'd probably get killed by something or someone long before old age became a problem.

"You're not going to like this answer dad, but its how I feel." Dearka said quietly. "At the moment, Mir and I are part of the Clyne Faction. I'm the pilot of a Gundam, and she's my co-pilot. I can't even remember how many times we've been in life or death situations together. How many times she's saved my life. How many times I've saved hers. It's not something you keep track of after a while. We've suffered a major defeat recently, but we are adamantly NOT defeated! We WILL find a way to bring this godforsaken war to an end WITHOUT using genocide or weapons of mass destruction. Don't ask me how, but we will. You're bringing up things like kids and old age and diseases and inevitable mortality and comparative lifespans... it's BULLSHIT, dad. Bullshit. I've done the odds myself... given current battlefield conditions, there's a roughly twenty percent chance I'm gonna buy the farm in the next major battle, and Miriallia along with me, since she sits about two feet in front of me, assuming its ANYTHING like the battle we just lost. If certain other, unnamed, parties get involved, that chance goes up to the mid eighty percent mark, and keeps rising on a secondly basis the longer that certain party remains involved. Do you REALLY think I care so much about fifty years from now? I don't. I just DON'T, dad."

"You cannot live your entire life one day at a time, Dearka!" Mr. Elsman insisted vehemently. "And don't talk about war or you dying while at home! It's hard enough on your mother and I as it is."

"Hard things need to be said sometimes." Miriallia cut in. "You're asking Dearka and I to face harsh realities. Is it so wrong for US to ask YOU to do the same? Like it or not, people die in wars. I don't want to die. I don't want Dearka to die. I don't want ANYONE to die. Well, ONE guy... but he's..." Mir shook off the end of that sentence. "But we're willing to put our lives in danger because we think it's the right thing to do. Dying to bring peace is NOT an option for me or Dearka... but sometimes people don't GET an option. Doesn't matter how good you are, how skilled, how well protected or deserving or how many people love you... death, especially in war, is always sudden and even random at times. I hate it, but that IS how it IS! I always get the shakes before launching, and I sure as hell get them when we get back, even if we aren't even scratched."

"Me too." Dearka added. "I'm not planning on living my life one day at a time, dad. That's not something I can do anymore... not with more than just my life at stake from my decisions. But right now, there's so much I DON'T KNOW and CAN'T CONTROL that planning more than a week or so in advance is just a WASTE of time. Bad enough that I have to worry about my life, and my family, and all of the PLANTS... but I've also got Miriallia to worry about, and the other people of the Clyne Faction and the people of EARTH as well. Any long term plan I make has to include considerations for ALL of them, and if I wanted to make enough plans so I could have one no matter the situation or how it changes, I'd do nothing but plan myself into a COMA! I'm sorry dad, I know you really hate leaving things to chance, hate not having a plan... but you can't treat war like a lab problem. It just doesn't work like that. If I poke at a problem, it's going to poke back... and it might not even be at ME. Let me tell a little story, dad, and I want you to tell me what I should have done. What you would have done."

"You are confronted with someone who is a clinically evaluated homicidal sociopath. He's armed and dangerous and running amuck, killing people at random. You've been pursuing him for quite some time, while he commits various atrocities to goad you... little things like blowing up child care buildings or killing your best friend in front of your eyes, or so you believe. You've finally got close enough to confront him... but he's surrounded himself with hostages, and even though you have a shot at him, if you do shoot, the hostages will be killed too, such is the nature of your weapons. He can't be talked down, and when you try anyway he starts shooting at you... through the hostages bodies. Crippled children. The elderly. Random people off the street. He's the sort of person that will keep doing things like this until someone stops him by force, so even if you retreat, it won't stop him, because he ENJOYS killing. If you stop him here and now, all the hostages around him he hasn't killed yet will die by your hand. If you don't stop him here and now, they'll all die anyway and he'll probably kill you too and get away, to do it all again another day. What sort of plan could I have had to deal with a situation like that, dad? What should I have done? What would you do? And this ISN'T a hypothetical trap or trick question. This is a real life scenario, that actually happened to us."

"You couldn't have seen this coming BEFORE said madman started running amuck?" Mr. Elsman arched an eyebrow.

"If you knew Purgatory Day was going to happen before it did, and didn't do anything about it, I don't care if you are my dad, I'm going to shoot you." Dearka replied harshly.

"You know I don't know anything about being a soldier... that I detest even the idea of war or fighting in one." Mr. Elsman started to reply, equally harshly, before his wife cut him off with a raised hand.

"Tad, dear, please don't try and slide around the question by turning it into a debate about what you know. I can parse it into a biochemical analogy if you want, which you ARE knowledgeable about and comfortable with, but it doesn't change the underlying point. There's simply some parts of life you can't plan for, that no answer you decide beforehand can adequately cover. Panic moments, where you have to act according to how you feel at the time. Your son is trying to tell you that right now, his life is just one big panic moment... but he doesn't necessarily LIKE it that way, though he can't change it right now." Liz Elsman explained, with a resigned tone of voice.

"You're a very wise woman." Miriallia complimented. "No offense, but given what Dearka said on the way down here I wasn't expecting... well..."

"My personal views on those unfortunate enough to be Naturals have little to do with what we're talking about, dearie. I share many of the same concerns as my husband for my son's... and indirectly your's... long term happiness. But I do understand what you're trying to say. I'm familiar with panic moments. I have raised four daughters and a son who sometimes acted like a tweeny girl, maturity wise. And a husband who still acts like he did when he was fourteen, which is depressing at times. But you didn't force Dearka to come home to us just to get into an argument with us, or not just to get into an arguement with us. You came to relax, and to get to know more about Dearka and us, and to allow us to get to know you, since you are an intimate part of our son's life that isn't going to go away no matter how many scientific facts and harsh mortalistic realities we bring up." Liz replied with a small smile. "Thank you for helping Dearka come home to us. I am grateful beyond any words."

"I've met people without families. Dearka doesn't deserve that, even more than anyone doesn't deserve that. My parent's are very important to me, and are a big part of every facet of my life. The thought of Dearka not being able to say the same thing made me angry. And while I may not be the mover and shaker while angry that some of my friends are, there's at least one person who knows better than to argue with me when I make a FIRM decision." Miriallia answered.

"You've got him whipped already? Good job!" Lyn applauded.

"Not surprising." Adelle shook her head. "He always was a wimp at heart."

"Not so much a wimp as... easy to make cry." Kam corrected with a smirk.

"Aww, jeez... I can't even tell my friends that my brother is so tough anymore." Mari pouted. "Not when he get's himself put on a short leash by a Natural."

"Hey! I could do WITHOUT the peanut gallery." Dearka commented. "There's SO much more to it than what you know right now. And I get enough crap from Ysak, thank you. Though he's one to talk, since he's on an even shorter leash than ME, and his girlfriend is ALSO a Natural. A really scary, freaky Natural, but she's still a Natural. It's almost funny actually... the only Coordinator couple I know is Kira and Lacus, and they're the only ones who wouldn't, or haven't, cared either way."

"Cagalli, Katie and I must have got a soft batch." Miriallia chuckled. "We've taken out Athrun Zala, Ysak Joule and Dearka Elsman. Three redcoat elites, defeated utterly by a tomboy princess, a traumatized girl with mental powers and me, a photojournalist in training. I don't see how you guys can have any sense of self pride."

"A photojournalist in training that ALMOST stabbed me to death with a scapel while I was tied to a bed, remember! Don't try and hide the facts... you three girls are FRIGHTENING."

"I sooo have to hear that story." Lyn demanded.

"I think I'll skip it." Mr. Elsman said, somewhat unsteadily. "I really don't need to know MORE about how my son was almost killed by his girlfriend. His Natural girlfriend, after he became a redcoat elite."

"I was TIED TO A BED! Key words... TIED TO BED! That I escaped at ALL is something of a miracle!"

"Yeah, yeah... you learned to keep your big mouth shut though, didn't you?" Miriallia shrugged, somewhat nervously. That certainly hadn't been her at her best, that episode. "And I did stop Fllay from shooting you."

"For which I remain eternally grateful. I'm GLAD to let Athrun keep the distinction of being shot by his girlfriend or one of her friends. And Ysak can DEFINITELY keep the honor of being jerked around like a sock puppet by a telepathic commando girl."

"Did he really just say telepathic commando girl?" Lyn muttered to Kam.

"I'm more worried because he didn't sound like he was joking." Kam replied. "I might have to schedule him an appointment with a friend."

"I am NOT crazy. There's no way I can prove it to you except by holding Kira hostage and pointing a gun at his head in front of Lacus Clyne... which I'm NOT EVER going to do... but believe me... I'm NOT crazy when I talk about Katie and what she can do."

"I understand if you can't acknowledge that you know this term, Mr. Elsman, but Katie said you might know what it meant. Please keep it to yourself though. It would be in your best interest. Katie is an Active Newtype." Miriallia added. She thought she saw a brief flicker of recognition in Mr. Elsman's eyes, but it was so brief she couldn't be sure. Certainly none of the rest of the Elsman family had any idea what she was talking about.

"That's a new one." Mr. Elsman replied evenly. "I'll have to look it up. Or might that be a bad idea?"

"That depends on why you would be looking it up. Simple curiousity isn't a problem. Beyond that... well, you'll have to make up your own mind, hopefully before it gets made up for you." Miriallia replied, equally evenly.

"Dad's talking political again." Mari pouted. She really hated being excluded from conversations. Lyn had once called it "talking over her" and Mari was really sensitive about her shortness, so to this day she HATED being kept out of a conversation.

"Well, as intriguing as that little tete a tete was, I think it's better for us to focus on what we can ALL talk about, hmm?" Mrs. Elsman prompted. "How about we come inside and let you two at least drop off your belongings before we mercilessly interrogate you about every detail of the last two years. And Thaddeus, you WILL have to fob off the city council today. Their business can keep for twenty four hours while you catch up with your son." Mrs. Elsman turned a steady look on Dearka and Miriallia. "I assume I won't be needing to turn out a guest bedroom?"

"Mom!"

"You'd assume right. Dearka is very used to sleeping on the floor. Sometimes even on the floor OUTSIDE the room."

"That happened ONCE! And NOT for the reason you all are thinking!"

"Sure, bro, whatever. Perv."

--

Miriallia wiped the sweat off her forehead and glanced at her watch in the same motion. Only about thirty minutes to go before she could stop. She sighed, arched to stretch her back and restraightened her sunhat on her head. It was slightly disconcerting for her still, it being high noon temperature and brightness twenty four hours a day. It was almost four in the afternoon, and she'd been working in the Elsman family fields since eight that morning, and the sun hadn't moved across the sky, the temperature hadn't changed a bit and there hadn't even been a single cloud of shade. She knew why Dearka and his family all had such amazingly tanned skin now, if this is what they did two or three days a week, if not more, on their off time. She herself had slathered down with high SPF, long lasting sunscreen and she was still reasonably sure she was going to walk away with a good bit of sunburn today. She shrugged, wincing slightly at the tension in her back and shoulder and arm muscles.

"Not nearly as easy as it looks, is it?" Lyn Elsman, who had appointed herself Miriallia's constant companion while she stayed at the Elsman house, at least whenever she wasn't doing her secretarial duties for her father, which seemed to largely consist of denying various groups any time in her father's "busy schedule" with varying degrees of evil relish, said commiserately from the next row over. "Strawberries are SOOO good... but picking them by hand is a bitch and a half. Of course, you couldn't have known that when you volunteered this morning. And if you did, and volunteered anyway just to torment me..."

"I wouldn't do that. You're not Dearka." Miriallia replied with a brief smile. "But you are definitely correct. I feel like I've bent my spine in half permanently. And thirty pound bags of strawberries are still, regrettably, thirty pound bags. How exactly is this sort of torture supposed to be good for rehabilitation?"

"Beats going back to Basic Physical Training. Or so I hear anyway, since I've never been to BPT. It has to really suck though, if its worse than an eight hour shift picking strawberries." Liz grabbed one especially big fruit and popped it into her mouth, chewing with a look of bliss. "Especially since you wouldn't be able to eat strawberries whenever you wanted."

"That WOULD be terrible. These strawberries are incredible. I've been looking, and I haven't seen a single berry that was sickly or over-ripe or under-ripe or malformed or ANYTHING, all day. I hadn't realized genetic engineering could do so much." Miriallia bent and picked one for herself, studying the half dollar sized pinkish-red fruit before chewing it down, immensly enjoying the cool taste of the sweet juice and the just firm enough texture of the flesh. It was the best strawberry she'd ever had to date. Of course, the one she'd picked about ten minutes before had only been beaten out because THIS one was fresher from the vine. "All your crops are like this?"

"All OUR crops are, yes." Lyn replied, stressing the ownership term as she rapidly transferred strawberries from bush to the bag at her side. "But the Elsman crops are higher quality than the mass produced stuff from Junius. Not saying the stuff on Junius is bad, far from it, but these are... you could call them "next generation" crops. Potential advances in agricultural science are tested here before the new strains are mass grown. In crop terms, our stuff is Coordinators, while the Junius stuff is Naturals."

"Oh. So do the Junius strawberries send little ships to burn these fields then? Or threaten to cut off soil shipments to starve them to death?" Miriallia replied wryly. Lyn giggled and shook her head.

"Wow, that's a politically incorrect image if I've ever heard one. Adelle would have shat a brick if she heard you make light of the situation like that."

"Adelle can kiss my "stastically inferior" little ass." Miriallia replied without sympathy. "No offense, but she's a snooty, rotten bitch. Statistically speaking anyway."

Lyn snorted in amusement. "Adelle never did have much in the way of tact. But you're the one who said you wanted us to be direct and not pull any punches. You should hear what she says to Dearka."

"I probably shouldn't. I don't like people picking on Dearka, even if... especially if... they happen to be members of his family. I almost got into a fight with your dad the first time I met him. So far the only truly likeable people in your family I've met are you, Dearka and your mom. And I'm pretty sure your mom is just being nice for Dearka's sake. Adelle thinks I'm scum, Mari thinks I'm some sort of rutting ape and Kam, for all her politeness, is so condescending that I can't stand to be around her for more than five minutes by myself." Miriallia said, bending down to pick strawberries again as well.

"Well, to be honest, I'm not totally sure I'm one hundred percent for you either, Mir." Lyn replied softly. "You're a nice person. A strong person. I like you, really. I even think you might be the right person for my silly little brother. But it's not exactly easy overcoming twenty years of family rhetoric, and almost two and a half years of unprovoked tragedy, much less contemplating the probable future. I know it's not YOUR fault, that you've been trying your best to defend and help us... but its very hard to tell the difference between sharks and dolphins, when you're standing on shore and you can only see the dorsal fins."

"Well, I've only known you for about a week... its not surprising at all that you feel like that." Miriallia replied after a few moment's thought. "It took me most of eight months to warm to Dearka, and the intervention of a couple of my friends as well. I didn't expect to win you all over in a week or two... I'm really just happy that Dearka can come home again, and talk with his family. I think it's probably going to take years and years, if it happens at all, before I really get on friendly terms with your parents."

"Years and years." Lyn repeated. "So you are serious about him then? He's the one? Pardon me for saying so, but sometimes you don't act like you feel that way about him."

"It's..." Miriallia trailed off and swallowed hard. "I wish I could put it into words. He's everything I could ever want, and I can't bear the thought of a world without him... but... I'm worried about the same things your parents are, Lyn. Straight facts are, barring fatal accident, I'm going to die well before Dearka. And I know what that would do to him. I don't want him to hurt like that. Two years without a family was too hard on him already..."

Lyn was silent for a long time. "I didn't want to bring this up, both because its way too personal and because I really don't want to be cruel, but if that's the sort of thing you're worrying about, you need to know this. Dearka is, like my sisters and I, a second generation Coordinator. And second generation Coordinators have, for a still unknown reason..."

"A twenty percent chance of being unable to reproduce." Miriallia interrupted. "Dearka already told me, way back in Switzerland. I know. All my friends know. I felt it wasn't something we wanted suddenly popping up later on in a relationship. None of us were intimate at the time, though Cagalli and Athrun were toeing the line, but still... it's extremely sobering and uncomfortable. Dearka said that your father is working primarily on fixing that... problem, right?"

"Night and day, so much that Kam and I have to drag him out of the lab sometimes so he doesn't collapse from exhaustion. He's obsessed about it. The only things that pry him away on his own volition are Supreme Council meetings, emergency war meetings, and major events, like Dearka coming home." Lyn replied slowly. She was glad Dearka had found the balls to tell Miriallia about that sticky issue, which NOBODY in the PLANTS liked to think about... but there were things Dearka didn't know, since he hadn't talked with his family in years. And there wasn't going to be any easy way of telling Miriallia, beyond harsh truth.

"Well, there are worse things to be obsessed about." Mir smiled slightly, though her smile faltered when she saw Lyn looking at her. "Um, I didn't mean to offend you by that..."

"No, you're entirely right. I was daddy's secretary during the incident with GENESIS. I met Patrick Zala. Fixing a widespread genetic problem is a VERY good thing to devote your life too." Lyn replied. "But dad isn't motivated by altruism. His motivation is entirely... personal."

"I don't quite get what you mean. Mr. Elsman seems like the sort of person that money and status really doesn't mean anything to, especially considering the finances Dearka told me about."

"There's no easy way to say this, Miriallia." Lyn frowned. "You're not stupid, despite what Mari thinks. Let me say it this way. You don't need to waste any money buying condoms as long as you're with Dearka, okay?"

"... What?" Miriallia asked, faintly, her mind shocked into confusion.

"For that matter, neither does Kam, Adelle, myself or Mari, in whatever relationships we have or may have." Lyn turned her face away, not wanting to see the stricken expression on Miriallia's face any more than she had to. "We're all part of that twenty percent. Unless dad and Kam and Adelle and their research group hit a sudden breakthrough, which has eluded our best medical scientists for most of forty years now, we're the last generation of the Elsmans. That's why dad is so obsessed with finding out a way to fix the problem."

"Does... Dearka know about this?" Miriallia asked, trying to sort out her whirlwind of emotions. Children weren't something she was worried about short term... but she did want a family SOMETIME in her life. Who didn't?

"I'd imagine not. Dad only started doing the comprehensive testing on our repro cultures after Dearka joined the military. And though he was... and still is... furious at Dearka, no parent worth the name is going to call up their insecure, teenage son, who's risking his life on a daily basis for not only the future of his country, but his own future as well, and tell them that they might as well castrate themselves, for all the difference it was going to make to the gene pool. I don't think the military would have let him if he'd tried... people commit suicide over news a LOT less jarring than that, especially when they're sixteen and seventeen. Mari doesn't know either, and she'd better not find out from you or I can garuntee that you'll never be welcome in this family."

"I wouldn't do that to her." Miriallia retorted, offended that Lyn could even think she'd do something like that to a fourteen year old girl.

"People say funny things when they're angry. It makes us all wince whenever Mari talks about "Nulls", unknowingly including the rest of us in that category. It'd tear her apart if she knew. I don't know how we're going to break it to her." Lyn shook her head. "I imagine you'll be telling Dearka. Thanks in advance... I wasn't looking forward to dad and mom trying to tell him."

"Um... yes." Miriallia looked at her sack of strawberries with a numb expression. "Uh... do you mind if I...?"

"The sooner the better. Should I tell mom not to expect you two for dinner?"

"That... that would be... prudent, I think." Miriallia replied. She turned to go, before a sudden thought struck her like a hammerblow. "Um... I don't suppose you know... about any of his friends? Ysak, Athrun... Lacus?"

"Dad hasn't mentioned anything." Lyn answered. "And it's really none of your business. They can mail a sample to my father's lab if they want to know. He'll be able to tell them about a month later."

"Okay. Thanks, Lyn. I know it has to be hard, telling me, someone you hardly know, something like that. You have my word, I won't tell anyone but Dearka."

"Get on with you." Lyn smiled, and bent her head to wipe the moisture out of one eye. "The big crybaby is going to need some time... he never was a very strong man."

--

Dearka had forgotten just how much of a stone bitch it was hauling and spreading mulch in the orchards. The decaying organic fertilizer was necessary to keep the soil of the orchards rich enough for the nutrient greedy fruit trees to produce their fruit up to six times faster than similar trees faster than they did on Earth. Like his father had once said, way back when Dearka had just hit puberty and could get the analogy... the mulch was pretty much a sex drug for trees. The image still made him chuckle, even as his back and legs and arms protested from almost eight hours of lifting, carrying, and emptying of eighty pound sacks of the pungent green semi-slush, then using a shovel and rake to spread it evenly around the base of each tree. It had taken him most of the morning to get back into the swing of things, but after lunch he was once again working about as efficiently as he had before he'd run away from home, finishing a tree about every five minutes or so. Orchard duty used to be the bane of his existence, but now he found it relaxing almost. Just straight up physical labor, nothing really to think about, not complex at all. And the bags didn't seem nearly so heavy now.

It was also nice to be able to grab an apple, or pear, or peach or cherry or whatever type of fruit grew on the tree he was working on at the time for a piece of at work reward, whenever he felt like he wanted a short break. He never would have done anything of the sort before... well, not standing in plain view like he was, anyway. His parents took a dim view of pilfering from the crops that were supposed to be harvested... but everyone did it anyway. The stuff was just too good to pass up. He smirked as he remembered the time his father had told everyone they could either be paid to work or eat sparingly from the crop while harvesting, not both... and everyone had immediately just started chowing down on whatever was at hand, now that they didn't have to try and hide their preference anymore. Who cared about minimum wage per hour anyway?

He wasn't the only person working the orchards, but all the other workers were keeping their distance from him. Since they were almost all ZAFT soldiers, Dearka supposed he couldn't blame them... he was, technically, a deserter from ZAFT. No one had yet tried to bring up or press that point... but neither was he included in the banter and camraderie like everyone else was and he frequently caught glimpses out of the corners of his eyes of people glancing at him and whispering to each other. He shrugged and returned to the automated truck to grab another bag of mulch. He could totally understand how they felt. He'd never actually attacked ZAFT forces... that being one of the conditions he and Ysak had made to the Clyne Faction leadership for their help... but he was friends with people that did, and guilt was definitely an associative thing. And it certainly didn't help his image, in their eyes, that he was a "genetic sellout", a Coordinator pursuing a relationship with a Natural. Most Coordinators didn't care who you slept with... love was not a public matter. But some did, and those that did were often members of ZAFT. He'd once been one of them.

As if summoned by his line of thought, Dearka looked up as a ripple of silence and even a few catcalls passed through the orchard, headed towards him. It didn't take him long to see Miriallia headed towards him at a steady trot, an extremely determined and firm expression on her face. She had something she considered serious to discuss then. He was stumped as to what, and he just hoped his family hadn't gone and ganged up on her while he was away. He'd tried to make it clear to his family that he wasn't going to stand for them trying to belittle and drive Mir away because she was a Natural, that if it came down to it he was on HER side, not theirs, but he wasn't sure they really believed him. And despite Mir's assurances that she was fine, that she could handle whatever prejudice his family could dish out, he was still worried... his family, especially his parents, were experts at verbally disassembling people and making them feel insignificant. And Mir did have her weak spots... the guy named Tolle for instance. The ZAFT soldiers certainly weren't making things easy on her... they didn't step into her path, but neither did they step out of it, forcing her to weave around themwhile they frowned and muttered and gave her the evil eye. It was a good thing Mir wasn't Cagalli or Katie... there'd already be blood on the ground if she was like them, he was sure.

"So, what's up? Little early, aren't you? Did you miss me so much?" He asked, as lightly as he could manage, hoping he could perhaps defuse a possible public meltdown with a little humor. He was pretty good at that, or so he liked to think. Course, very few people appreciated it... Ysak and Athrun sure didn't, most times, and Kira would laugh at jokes you found on the underside of bottlecaps, so he didn't count. But he could generally get at least a chuckle or two from Katie or Mir, and sometimes from Cagalli and Lacus, though they were harder, especially Lacus, who had a sense of humor cleaner than his by magnitudes.

"We need to talk." Miriallia's tone gave no room for excuses.

"I figured as much. Was it something someone said?" Dearka swallowed, wondering what he was going to do now... he'd actually been having a not so bad time for the last weeks, reconnecting with his family. He'd left a insecure and angry boy and he felt he'd come back as a man, and it was incredible how differently he saw things now... all the little facets of life he'd been too self centered to see before. Like how late his mom always stayed up, waiting, often in vain, for his dad to come home from the office. How his dad, whenever he did come home, was often sullen and uncommunicative, or else nearly boisterous and giddy, depending on his research results of the day... he'd never realized just how much his dad's work MATTERED to him. Or how, despite his suspicions, his sisters really DIDN'T spend every waking moment planning new ways to torment him, that actually, in a lot of cases, they took the heat from his parents in his place. He really didn't want to have to spark an angry confrontation with them now that he actually appreciated them... but he'd blow up like an Earthshaker shell if he had to, if they'd hurt Mir's feelings badly. He wasn't afraid to confront his parents and call out "bullshit" when he saw it anymore either.

"Yes, but not like you're thinking." Miriallia replied curtly. She looked around, as if noticing the other Coordinators in the orchard for the first time. She cleared her throat. "I need to talk to Dearka. Do you all mind at least leaving hearing distance?"

"Don't see as to why we should be too considerate of what you want, Natural. You guys won't leave us in peace, why should we be so courteous back?" One of the nearer soldiers replied contemptuously. "In fact, we should probably hang around, just in case you've been spying. I wouldn't put it past you and... him." The soldier nodded his head at Dearka.

"I'm not a spy." Miriallia returned, her voice as gentle as she could manage. "I need to talk to him about a delicate personal matter. Is it so hard for you to extend us just a little bit of privacy? I don't deny that Naturals have done terrible things to Coordinators... but I HAVEN'T, okay? I HAPPEN to LIKE Coordinators, as you MIGHT be able to figure out? Hmm, Mr. Smartypants ZAFT soldier? Maybe the image of ZAFT I've gotten... that you're all brash and jaunty on the battlefield, but kind and considerate off it... is that wrong? I thought you were supposed to be BETTER than Naturals? Is it really going to hurt you so much to give us fifteen minutes of verbal privacy for me to catch my breath after I ran almost three kilometers to get here?"

"Well..." The soldier, suddenly singled out by the barrage of questions, looked around nervously. He couldn't have been more than nineteen, and he was one of the older soldiers in the orchard.

"Are you that afraid of me?" Miriallia asked. "I don't even know how to use a gun or a knife. I'm a CIC technician. I'm a seventeen year old girl... am I really THAT big a threat to you? I'm not asking you to go away entirely... just to move further away until Dearka and I can leave. I don't care if you listen, really, but I don't want to embarass a group of strangers, and I really don't want to embarass Dearka, okay? Please?"

"Uhm... do I need to hop out and buy a ring or something?" Dearka asked queasily. Miriallia thumped him on the chest... HARD. Not playfully at all... she'd practically punched him in the ribs. Had he hit a nerve? She sure had. "Ow?"

"Oh screw it, Rich... I don't think this is going to be a subversive conversation. Besides, she's right. How am I supposed to sleep at night, with freaking non-combatant Natural girls accusing me of bullying them?" Another soldier spoke up. "And she did say please." There was a general murmur of somewhat embarassed agreement. It was kind of ridiculous, now that they thought about it. It didn't hurt that she really wasn't THAT bad looking, either. And she was being polite. And whatever their opinion of Dearka Elsman, he was the only redcoat, former or otherwise, in the orchard. And it was HIS land, in a way. The ZAFT soldiers drifted away in ones and twos, trying to make it at least LOOK like they hadn't been collectively shamed by a seventeen year old Natural girl.

"That actually hurt, you know." Dearka commented, as soon as he was certain the soldiers were out of earshot. Before he could say more, Mir had thrown her arms around him and was glomping him as hard as she ever had, which totally caught him off guard. Mir wasn't much of one for public displays of affection beyond the holding of hands or arm around the shoulders stage. He could feel her heart beating, and it was definitely beating in an agitated fashion. He slowly put his arms around her as well. "It's okay though, because this feels really good." He looked down at the top of her head, since she was burying her face in his shoulder. She was really distraught by something... but she'd said it wasn't because of his family. Or not because of something hurtful they'd said. "Seriously... do I need to go out and start making some doctor appointments?" Dearka asked, his stomach doing some loops at what he assumed was the issue. Damn it, he'd been SURE he and Mir had been careful, and with modern contraceptives accidental pregnacy was supposed to be IMPOSSIBLE. He was shocked when he heard and felt her start crying a bit, and she squeezed him so tightly he couldn't breathe for a moment. "Mir?"

"Don't say things like that. It's making this hurt worse." Mir mumbled into his shirt.

"Mir... tell me. Are you preg..." Dearka started to ask the dreaded question of any younger than entirely legal boyfriend. Before he could finish Mir suddenly pushed forward unexpectedly and slammed his back into the tree behind him. "Owww..."

"Shut up, please." Mir ordered, her voice quavering and the tears streaming more freely. "It's hard enough trying to talk when you keep twisting the knife."

"So you ar..." Dearka trailed off when she turned her face up to glare at him.

"No. No, I'm not, Dearka." Miriallia choked back a small breakdown. "I'm... I'm afraid... that's not going to be... an issue for us..."

"Wait... what the HELL do you mean?" Dearka demanded. "Not an issue!? What are you trying to SAY!?"

"One in five, Dearka, like you said in Switzerland." Mir sobbed. "One in five."

Dearka felt like the entire world just dropped out from under him. "But... but there's no way of knowing... that..."

"If anyone would know... it would be your family, wouldn't it?" Mir retorted, her face in his shoulder again. "It's not just you, either. It's your sisters as well. All of them."

"That... THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Dearka protested, shaking his head. "That CAN'T BE TRUE!"

"Lyn doesn't... strike me as a liar..." Mir replied softly. "And if she wanted to hurt us... why would she admit it about herself and your other sisters too? Mari doesn't know yet, and shouldn't know yet, I believe."

"But... but why didn't... why didn't they SAY something?" Dearka asked, his heart feeling like it was clenched by a giant fist. "Why did they tell you, and not me? Why did they have to make it hurt you too?"

"Because your father only found out AFTER you joined the military. You can still barely talk civilly with him... how was HE supposed to tell you? How were ANY of them supposed to tell you?"

"Well... but..." Dearka tightened his arms around her even more. "But why did they have to involve you, Mir? Bad enough to... for ME to know that... that... why take the hope away from you so soon?" Mir felt water dripping onto the top of her head. "I know it's not something we're planning for right now..." Dearka sniffed awkwardly. "... But we were planning on it, weren't we? It was supposed to happen... eventually, right?"

"Yes." Mir answered. "Yes it was. Eventually."

"Then I don't see how I can forgive my family for dragging you into this like this." Dearka said slowly. "It's better to have false hope than NO hope. It was cruel of Lyn to tell you this about me. She SHOULD have told me, no matter how hard it was." He could feel his hands clenching into fists entirely beyond his ability to stop.

"No." Mir's refutation stopped him cold. "No... it was the right thing for her to do, I think. Maybe she was being cruel... but it wasn't to me. This issue is tearing at the heart of every person in your family who knows about it. Your father is practically killing himself to find a "cure", as are your two oldest sisters. Your mother is hurting because of what your father is doing. Lyn is hurting because she's the one who has to be cheerful for everyone else. It had to cut her heart like a knife to tell me, a Natural that your family doesn't approve of, of this issue. She was trying to INCLUDE me in the family, Dearka, even if she doesn't realize it. This is an Elsman family problem, and now its my problem as well. It hurts... but I feel almost honored, really."

"Still..."

"No, there is no still." Miriallia spoke more firmly, her eyes starting to dry. "I told your family I wanted honesty... and boy, did they give it to me. I promised myself... and you... that no matter what happened, I wouldn't falter. And I won't. It hurts... but no worse, certainly, than the thought of us dying in the next battle. And I've been dealing with that for months now. If anything, it gives me just that much more motivation to see things through to the proper end. Who knows... once this stupid fucking war is over, maybe we can put the kind of funding into your dad's research that will make a difference. We've both got a good long while ahead of us, Dearka. I'm not going to give up hope even if there isn't CURRENTLY any hope. I think we both have some experience with finding that something we thought was impossible was quite possible after all, looking back."

"I don't deserve you." Dearka mumbled. "You're much too good for the Elsman family." He slowly slid down the tree until he and Mir were sitting on the ground together.

"Well... I can get up and leave..."

"You can try, but there really ISN'T any hope there." Dearka retorted fondly, blinking his own eyes dryer. "I may not be the smartest Coordinator out there, but I know when I've struck gold. And I'm a really greedy bastard when it comes to gold."

"I told Lyn to tell your parents we wouldn't be back for dinner." Mir said quietly. "No doubt when Lyn tells them what she told me, they'll expect us to be basket cases tonight."

"Baskets are good." Dearka unclenched his fists and started putting his hands to better use. He'd daydreamed about seeing Mir in a sunhat, shorts and short sleeves on the first day here, but hadn't got to see it until now. Sweaty, slightly sunburned, smudged with dirt and plant sap... God, but she was a lovely vision. "I prefer beds, but baskets will do in a pinch."

"We have an audience." Mir squirmed in his lap.

"Oh, I hope so." Dearka leaned down and kissed her lips. "Mmm... strawberries good..."

"I was... actually thinking... of showing up... and surprising them..." Miriallia gasped when he let her lips go.

"Dinner's not till six. It's barely ten past four. And you know what we're sitting on?"

"Mulch? Decaying vegetation? What's that got to do with anything?"

"You know what my dad calls mulch? Sex enhancers, but for trees. It certainly can't HURT matters."

"You aren't a tree. And that was a very crude image. You should be ashamed. I can't believe you just made a JOKE about it, when you were in tears not minutes ago!"

"Not only am I greedy, I'm insensitive, especially about things I can't change. You know that better than most. As for being a tree... well, maybe not an oak... but..."

"Get over yourself already, geez." Miriallia grimace-grinned and rolled her eyes. "Maybe a bonsai, if you use the right kind of magnification."

"I think I'm going to cry again."

"Me too. But it's okay. We'll get through it. We'll make it work, somehow. That's what we do."

"Yeah. That's what we do alright."


	99. Bored, Lovestruck and Heavily Armed

"What do you mean, "it doesn't have MANUAL MODE"!?" The heavily bandaged man half shouted, drawing stares from all over the transportation hub. The equally heavily bandaged woman standing nearby just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest in an unconscious motion that almost doubled her up with pain when she jostled the large bandage just under her breasts. She slowly lowered her arms to her sides, glad that the bandaged man hadn't seen the momentary lapse. He had more than enough on his plate as it was, just trying to find a car. And there was no arguing with him either, despite the painful facts. Plainly put, the PLANTS didn't allow manually operated vehicles, the same as most space colonies. It was a common safety measure. Space was a dangerous enough place as it was, without adding drunk drivers and vehicle pile-ups.

"Sir, please calm down." The harried looking rental clerk, who looked to be in his mid eighties, said with exasperation in his voice. He was the only human clerk, since most transport rentals were handled by computers. And he was only there because sometimes the computers had problems, he wasn't an actual service clerk by inclination or training. "It's illegal to rent manually operated cars. We don't HAVE any to rent anyway. The only place you can get a manual car is from the government, and only then if your job warrents it. Please, sir, there are other people waiting to use the machines. Could you please make a selection, or I'll call the MP's and have you removed."

"FINE! Fuck it!" Alkire grunted, punching in a request for a car. This was total bullshit, but apparently this TRAVESTY was normal in space! THIS was motivation to win the war right here... if he had to forgo driving a car for the rest of his life he was just going to go skydiving naked instead! For a race of people with superior reflexes, mental cognition and eyesight to intentionally LIMIT themselves from the pleasures of driving... Coordinators were FUCKING IDIOTS! "Can you BELIEVE this shit?" He asked Raine, shaking his head furiously, his chest feeling like it was on fire because of his agitated breathing. "Bunch of automotive eunuchs! I offered to pay two hundred GRAND and they STILL didn't have anything for me!"

"That's because they actually don't have anything, dear. Like he said... it's illegal to rent or sell or own a manual car without a special license from the government." Raine replied patiently. "I hear it reduces the teen mortality rate by ninety percent."

"Good for the fucking teens." Alkire grumped, still ruffled as they made their way out to the curb, where their car was already waiting for them. Like most PLANT cars, it was a convertible with an optional soft top. At least he'd managed to find a blue one, so it "sort of" looked like his ferrari. Assuming you were stoned, and didn't know what a fucking ferrari looked like. "Do you know HOW LONG it has been since I actually obeyed a posted speed limit?"

"Get it out of your system now, Robert." Raine sighed. "You're in no fit condition to be operating a motor vehicle anyway, and you know it. You should be in a hospital bed."

"So should you." Alkire grumbled, but he had to admit she had a point. Just taking the elevator down from the spaceport had been hard on him, and he really couldn't afford the energy to be carrying on like he was. Four gunshot wounds in the chest wasn't something you just walked away from, no matter the quality of modern medicine. Most of his insides were being held together with spit, glue, surgical tape and prayers. But it wasn't in his constitution to just lie down and whimper until the pain went away. Especially not after he'd told the kids to have the time of their goddamn lives. How could he pass up the chance to do the same? He wasn't going to let a mere four close range hollow point bullets to the upper chest... "Urg!" He gasped, from the effort of heaving his and Raine's duffel bags into the back seat. Okay, so maybe he'd give it a day or so.

The sedate pace of the car as it slipped away from the transport hub and into Aprilius One traffic was a constant wound to his adventurous soul, but the pure, undeniable beauty of the PLANT was a pretty damn good salve and distraction. "Remind me to clock Ysak one too, later. Katie was right, he did neglect to mention anything about paradise when he talked about home."

"It is breathtaking." Raine agreed, reclining her seat and slipping on a pair of sun shades. "For the moment."

"Wouldn't have expected YOU to be a downer." Alkire commented, doing likewise, belaying his outward attitude of distrust of automated vehicles. He just didn't LIKE them... he didn't deny that they worked very well. He typed in a request for the car to take them to the highest quality hotel it could find and then let himself relax. "Something wrong?"

"Despite the fact that we both almost died, Victor is dead and we're officially trapped in a space colony that's going to experience massive social chaos and starvation riots in a month or two?"

"We've been through worse. Except for Victor." Alkire replied, with a wince. "He got Asmodeus though."

"Asmodeus let himself be got, and we both know it." Raine closed her eyes. She'd take in the sights later, when she was feeling better. "He wanted to die... but I don't think he really, deep down, wanted to take us all with him. He could have done that if he'd wanted to. He wanted to die... but he also wanted us to stop him. He'd made his point."

"His point?"

"That what chance did we have of stopping the Isolation, who'd beaten HIM, if we couldn't do the same? That, and to bear in mind that people are never truly defeated, until they let themselves be defeated. He was giving us some advice. And a warning. Well, and trying to kill us all, but he stacked the deck in our favor. He screwed the Archangel over good and proper... but he sacrificed himself to do it. And, if it hadn't been for the unexpected presence of that ZAFT Gundam we salvaged, the Isolationists would never have attacked us. Hell, they'd probably have HELPED us kill Frost. He was giving us all a last lesson in what to do when you have no other options. When all you can see around you is death... it becomes a matter of choosing How you're going to die, to what purpose you're going to spend your life."

"That's a pretty heavy point. Do you really think we're at that stage?"

"I don't know. He seemed to think we were, obviously. I'll admit to a bit of crisis of faith at the moment."

"It's gonna sound strange coming from me... but I got faith in the pink princess and that thick headed bastard Kira." Alkire said after a few moments. "And the rest of their hopeless bunch of libertines, idealists and patriots. We ain't got no ships, no guns, no knives, no transport, no backup, no support... NOTHING to our names... and they STILL ain't giving up."

"Because you gave a pep talk. They were down in the dumps and ready to roll over until you shamed them into feeling better."

"Yeah. About that. Don't tell anyone this... but I was SO TOTALLY being sarcastic. We got OWNED, plain and simple. We simply DON'T have the forces to make a difference! But before I could get to the punchline, everyone got cheery. What the FUCK was I supposed to do, dash their hopes?"

"Reverse psychology at its best, eh?" Raine cracked an eye and smirked slightly. "You missed the turn."

"What!?" Alkire grabbed the wheel and stamped his foot down on a brake pedal that wasn't there. "Oh. Oh, funny. That's fucking real funny, Raine. You're a real card. Why the FUCK they put a steering wheel on these things when it doesn't DO anything... its torture. This is a fucking police state. Big brother is already fucking with my head! And you're HELPING! What am I going to do with you?"

"I'm sure you'll figure out something appropriate once we recover enough to share a bed again." Raine smiled. "Until then, you get to live in fear."

"I shoulda gone with Kisaka."

--

"All right! Take thirty two. Get those fucking dancers in place! And do this lively this time, you overpaid unionized bastards!" The music video director shouted from his crane operated observation chair. He really wasn't choleric with anger, but music video directors were EXPECTED to be foul mouthed, pushy bastards, and he was dedicated to upholding the proud tradition. Thirty two takes to get a major hit single turned into a viable music video would be something of a record actually. He was privately expecting something in the lower triple digits, speaking from long experience. Another four or five days at least, then a few weeks more for the digital additions to be worked in and the product to be finalized. There was a lot more to the music video industry than just grabbing a band, some cameras, and a suitable location... it was like shooting a small movie really. With all the hardships that implied. Though he was fortunate this time. Despite their wild cult popularity, the ladies of Avaunte Noctem, the new "IN" band on the goth-industrial music scene of the Eurasian and Atlantic Federations, weren't anywhere near as "prima donna" as most of the pop and straight rock bands he'd worked with in the past. The reviewers raved that their "off stage" personalities as "everyday girls" was a major reason for their success, but the director didn't really see much difference between off and on stage. They were just nice, courteous girls who really loved their music.

He was just about to cue the band to start when a completely unexpected wrench dropped into the works. As a matter of course, all cell phones and other personal communication devices were supposed to be turned off during film shooting. Enforcing that rule was one of his chief headaches, and one of the few problems he had with this band. They were all in their young to mid twenties, and they had reacted with real horror to the thought of being cut off from their cell phones. He'd managed to eventually compromise with them to let them keep the phones on, but on silent mode. He checked each phone at the start of each day to ensure it actually WAS set on silent, just as a precautionary thing of course. After the first two days, they'd actually realized he was serious, and from then on they'd followed the rule, though somewhat unhappily. Like he'd said... they were nice and courteous girls at heart. Thus, when he first heard the rather bloodchilling rising howl of some sort of predatory beast rising from directly beneath him, he turned to chew out some hapless staff member.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE!?" The director demanded. "WAS I UNCLEAR ABOUT THE CELL PHONES!? SOMEONE IS GETTING REAM..." he died off in mid tirade as none other than Wrenn Nostaliviche, the leader singer and star of the band, raced off stage to grab her cell phone, which was shaking and howling like it was possessed by some sort of hellish animal. The director was stumped as to what to do now. He couldn't chew out Wrenn, since she was the one who'd HIRED him and his company. But he'd made himself VERY clear about the phones. He frowned... he'd inspected that phone earlier, and it had been on silent. And Wrenn hadn't touched it since then. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ms. Nostaliviche..."

"SHHHH!" She hushed him imperiously, holding the phone to her ear with an expression of surprised delight on her face. "I wasn't expecting you to call anytime soon. I'm in the middle of a shoot right now you know? Well, yeah, you did know. You would. I'm going to get in trouble you know. What? WHAT!? REALLY!? But you said... REALLY!? Um... but I'm in the middle of a shoot right now. Oh. Oh. Yeah, you have a point. I guess that would work, if it was a direct order. You're sure? Okay... just a moment."

The director had been getting a progressively worse feeling as he listened to the phone call. He had the suspicion that... "Mr. Director, I'm really sorry, but something unexpected has come up. I need to leave. Right now."

"A family emergency, Ms. Nostaliviche?" The director prayed it was something like that. The contract had provisions for such things.

"Well... not really. But I NEED to go. I don't get chances like this much."

"Ms. Nostaliviche, not to be blunt, but you don't get chances to do music video's much either." The director retorted, as gently as he could.

"Yeah I know. But this is WAY more important, I'm sorry."

"Can you tell me what it is?" The director groaned. This was a fifty million dollar contract. He really couldn't afford to delay this.

"Um. No. That would be bad. But you should be getting a call soon that will make everything better."

"Ms. Nostaliviche, if you walk out now, our contract will be voided. Neither of us can afford that." The director pleaded.

"Oh, I'm not quitting the video. I'm just... putting it on hold for a bit. Like, a week or so."

"It's costing my company two million dollars a day to hold this shoot, Ms. Nostaliviche. We have at most two days of squirm time." The director explained, slowly and heavily. His career was toast if this contract went down the drain.

"Oh. Hold on a sec." She put the phone up to her ear again, and the director started to sigh in relief. Averted disaster by a whisker. He was getting too old for this shit. "There's a financial problem at this end. Two mil... oh. Oh. Of course you considered that. Okay, no problem then. See you soon." The director caught his sigh before he could hex himself. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!

"It's being taken care of, Mr. Director. Executively, or so I'm told." Wrenn turned towards her band and waved goodbye. They were all staring at her somewhat enviously, but they wouldn't talk. They all knew very well what that ring tone signified. Only one person on Wrenn's phone had that tone, and he didn't officially exist. Wrenn didn't have a boyfriend. She had a Hellhound, and he was a very scary individual. And very sweet too, once you got to know him. Assuming you didn't pry into his life, or otherwise cross him. They all wished THEY had boyfriends like him, even if he only came around every couple months for a day or two. Or, extremely rarely, called out of the blue and could pull enough strings to yank Wrenn out of the middle of a major music video contract with no damage to her... and their... careers. "I'll be back in a week or so. Don't have too much fun without me!"

"Where are you going, Ms. Nostaliviche? Can you at least tell me that?" The director begged. "Or who it is that is calling?"

"Oh, Mr. Director, I wish I could. But I don't want you to die." And with those somewhat troubling words, Wrenn Nostaliviche, goth-industrial superstar, was haring off out of the building, cell phone pressed to her ear, the expression of an excited schoolgirl going on her first date with the hottest guy in school all over her face.

"Oh fuck me." The director put his face in his hands. He felt like he was going to cry.

"Director! Director! You have a call on your office line! It... it's the President!"

"What the hell does John want? How the hell does he know to call NOW? Motherfu..."

"No, the OTHER President. World President Argyle is on your office line! He says he wants to talk to you about... finances?"

"What... the... fuck...?"

--

"This is the place? Doesn't look like the kind of ranges I'm used to." Alkire complained, as the car pulled into a semi-crowded parking lot on Maius Eight. Unlike most of the other couples or groups, they weren't staying in any one place for long, but were rather hopping through as many of the cities of the PLANTS as they could, spending a day or two in each seeing the sights before moving on to the next city. It certainly made the time fly by, though they had spent four full days at the beginning pretty much stuck in a room on Aprilius, sedated and mostly confined to beds while they did their best to heal. They still weren't anywhere particularly near to fully well, but both of them were feeling antsy after almost a week of enforced sloth. "It's just a bigass old hanger bay."

"Think urban combat, dopehead." Raine replied. "We're lucky they even HAVE a range... most places in the PLANTS use laser lights and electronic harnesses."

Alkire shuddered as if in pain. "Please, don't even talk about such horrid places. Lasertag is for toddlers and cripples. It just AIN'T REAL."

"And paintball is? Last time I checked, you didn't bleed blue, even if you ARE obscenely rich."

"Of course paintball is real. Getting a hardened waxy ball to the gnads at eleven hundred feet per second is about as REAL as it gets. At least, without serious hospital time thrown in." Alkire replied with a cheery grin.

"Speaking of hospital time, don't we still need some?"

"You can cut the act, dear. I know you're hankering to pretend to waste a whole bunch of arrogant Coordinator wankers as much as I am." Alkire managed not to stumble as a twinge of pain rebounded around his chest. Pain was weakness leaving the body, right? Well, he hadn't realized there was still so much weakness in him, given all that had happened to him. He wondered when he'd finally get it all out. "Let's go in. I'll buy you a swanky new sniper rifle?"

"You sure know how to talk to girls." Raine rolled her eyes, but let him lead her by the hand into the shop under the sign stating that this was "Hideki's Mega Paintball Emporium" in proud ten foot neon green letters. Maybe she was twisted, but she was kind of looking forward to having some fun obliterating a bunch of "oh so good" teenagers. Coordinator teenagers was just icing on the cake. The shop was decently big, but not particularly busy. The medium height, rather plump Coordinator of asian descent with a wild chin beard standing behind the check out counter barely even glanced their way. That would probably be Hideki then. They wandered up and down the aisles of gear, pointing at various pieces and either nodded in agreement or shaking their heads to indicate a veto by one or the other.

Yang Hideki watched the middle aged couple browse through his inventory and he sighed. Look, look, look. That's what usually happened. Most serious paintballers bought their stuff online these days, or made it themselves. He had a whole bunch of rental guns, but they rarely saw any use. The couple seemed to complete their inspection of his goods, and he didn't see a single item in their hands. He needed to post a sign that said "minimum purchase of thirty dollars required to browse" or something. Seriously, maintenance and cleaning charges on the range were eating him alive, and the only thing keeping him afloat was occasional training contracts from the ZAFT Scouts junior infantry groups. Hideki was so caught up in his morose thoughts that he was slightly startled to see the couple standing in front of him, with slightly predatory grins on their faces.

"Uh. Can I help you?" Yang asked, recovering himself. How the hell had they gotten all the way from the back corner to the desk without him seeing them? Well, now that he looked closer they did sorta give off that "military" aura.

"Oh, I hope so." The man, with his hazel eyes and brown-blonde hair said cheerfully. His date, or girlfriend or lover or wife or whatever, with the short black hair and blue eyes, just nodded. "But before we go any further, I need to ask some questions. Like, what are the rules of the range?"

"Er..." Yang found himself unnerved by the woman's thousand yard stare. Military all right. Maybe SERIOUS military, not the usual desk jockey's that sometimes stopped by. "Standard one hit to the torso, head or limbs to knock out, judges discretion. If out, you're out till end of game or ten minutes pass. Shoot a judge or judge-camera, which are bright orange, you can't miss them and you're out for a game. We play three team free for all mostly, red, green and blue teams. Paint from your own color doesn't count as a knock out. If you're out, you have to walk with your hands up to a clearly marked waiting area. Excessive shooting of people who are out will get you ejected from the game."

"How big is the range?" The woman asked.

"We have two. Both are triple fortress style square courses about fifty meters on a side, with open ground, multi-level outbuildings, fortresses and low ground trenches. Lots of obstacles and barriers. Lots of close range stuff, but there's definitely room for a sniper duel if that's your thing. We discourage climbing on the course obstacles, but it's not illegal."

"Gun rules?" The man asked, after trading a wide and decidedly malicious smile with his wife.

"Full auto is fine. No frozen or dried paint allowed, use of such will get you ejected from the course with no refund. Maximum velocity of twelve hundred FPS at ten meters, we have calibration cubbies just inside the main building door. Wearing face shields or eye protection is mandatory, but other protective gear is optional. Your body after all. Do you have gear or do you need to rent it?"

"Rent? No, no... I don't like renting. I'd hate to have something I borrowed get broken. We're buying." The man replied amiably. He plunked down a hand written list in front of Yang. "We'll start with these, and we might come back for more depending on how it works out."

Yang studied the list and his jaw dropped. "Um, sir... you realize this is several thousand dollars worth of gear, right?"

"You take paper, right?" Alkire's grin was tremendous as he plopped a three inch neatly bound stack of paper money onto the counter.

After collecting their purchases from the shocked almost speechless propetier, Alkire and Raine lugged their cache outside to help each other put it on, with the assistance of a roll of duct tape, some bungie cords and a few other odds and ends from one of Alkire's "emergency provisions" bags that he'd managed to smuggle onto the PLANTS. Nothing in the bag was a "weapon" per se... but it wouldn't take him long to make a surprising number of makeshift weapons with the material at hand if he had to. Something Vlad had taught them all, from his vast experience in terrorist ops, where he would frequently arrive with nothing but the clothes on his back and maybe a single small pack, thoroughly inspected, of personal belongings. No high tech measures could get through PLANT transportation security, at least not with total certainty, so being able to work low tech, with everyday items, was essential.

At length they finished helping each other dress and adjust their weapons and stepped back a bit to admire their handiwork. It really wasn't all that much different from how they helped each other dress for going into real combat, except that the guns were toyish looking, since making paintball weapons in the shape of real military gear was something only the government could do legally. Raine had a "sniper" type gun, though in paintball that just meant it could launch a ball about as far as you could throw a baseball, just faster and in a mostly straight line. It was a semi-auto burst weapon, firing three balls every time you clenched the trigger. Raine also had two pistols and several paint grenades, plus several hundred rounds of ammo and the armor, which consisted of torso and back plates, arm and shin guards, gloves and a full face helmet. Alkire wore identical armor, but had only one pistol and a more "normal" paintball gun that fired either semi-auto or fully automatic, though his "tweaks" had adjusted that to three round burst as well. He also carried several paint grenades, and a massive amount of ammo. The other contestants waiting for a game to open up were looking at them askance, obviously wondering who these "hardcore" old geezers were. Nobody else there was over twenty.

"Care to make a wager?" Alkire asked, as they pulled on faded and worn green numbered jersy's. Alkire was number twenty two, Raine was thirteen. "I bet I waste more teens than you."

"Don't set yourself up for failure, love. If you can kill a third as many of them as me, you should count yourself lucky." Raine replied with a gentle smile. "I bet I get shot less than you do."

"Um... no brainer, miss SNIPER." Alkire retorted. He thought for a moment. "No, wait, we'll do that. Loser buys dinner?"

"It's your money anyway."

"It's the principle of the thing. Namely, you lose, I win." Alkire smiled wolfishly, which Raine returned. After about ten minutes of trash talk and dangerous looks that had everyone around them fearing that they were about to start shooting each other right then and there in the waiting area, they joined the rest of their twelve person team, who looked disgusted at having not only the "old" people but the "girl" on their team. Not that girls were necessarily BAD at paintball... but there was a strong stereotype. Shortly afterwards they were admitted onto the course, each team entering from a different point right behind their fortress. They were given a minute to spread out before the game started, during which time Alkire made good progress towards the blue base, while Raine found a comfortable spot on the roof of their own. The buzzer sounded... and the thirty four Coordinators playing were treated to a small slice of real warfare over the next nine minutes and thirty seven seconds.

Alkire was crouched behind a "V" shaped hip high obstacle in near the middle of the field when the game started. He paused, counted to ten and then popped out, gun out at tactical present. Three precise bursts later and he ducked back down again, as a horizontal rain of red and blue paint blasted into the other side of his barricades. Still, there was less blue fire than red fire, since he'd taken out three of them with bursts to the neck and facial areas as they tried to bum rush to the middle of the battle zone. They obviously hadn't seen him arrive at their intended target area, because they'd been running full tilt while shooting at the red base, and his shots had caught them from the blind side, so much so that the closest, who couldn't have been more than fourteen, actually tripped and fell over backwards in surprise.

"Blue 12, 82, 64 you are OUT!" The judicial announcement systems blared. "Green 6 and 19, you are OUT!" Alkire frowned... looks like he had some reckless dopes on his side too. It was just a game, but in his mindset, those were still friendly casualties that could possibly have been avoided. "Red... Red... holy shit... Red 10, 57, 73, 28, 31, 11, 99 and 7, you are ALL OUT!"

"Showoff." Alkire mumbled into the cell phone he'd rigged under his helmet so he and Raine could maintain voicecomms during the fight. Maybe not strictly legal... but there was no rule forbiding it either.

"They aren't making it very hard." Raine replied. He heard the faint "chuff-chuff-chuff" of her gun firing.

"Blue 45, you are OUT!"

"No concept of how to use cover to advance. It's like shooting religious terrorists." Raine added, smoothly tracking her gun around as the other teams seemed to get the hint and hunkered down from their wild initial charges. "Spray, pray and scream your head off till I blow it off." Raine lofted a few bursts through the second floor windows of the Red fortress, hoping for a lucky strike. There was ALWAYS some bastard who thought they were clever holing up in the base. Always. "By the way, you're about to be flanked."

"I'm on it, I'm on it, geez." Alkire groused, shoulder rolling out of cover, on the Red side, since that was the side now missing two thirds of its players. He left behind two paint grenades, which detonated just as the three Blue players leaned over their barricade and sprayed the area he'd just been heavily... and incidentally being taken out by the multiple ball flinging grenades.

"Blue 42, 15, 20, you are OUT!"

Alkire was just about to peek up and see if Blue team still had anyone gung ho left when a red ball slapped into the barricade only a few inches from his head. "HELLO!? You asleep at the switch? I just almost got my HEAD blown off!?"

"Long as it isn't some vital part." Raine retorted, her eyes calaculating the angle of the shot even as she pivoted around to face the Red fortress again. "Aha. Just don't move. I need some bait."

"Use one of the fucking teens! I'm outta..." Alkire barely managed to throw himself forward as a line of red paint plish-plopped along the ground towards him, tracking up into and through where he'd just been crouching. He hit the ground and the breath "whuffed" out of him in a single gasp... his chest was still mighty sore, even if most of the damage was internal. "I'm gonna feel that in the morning..."

"Not nearly as much as that poor thirteen year old will." Raine answered, a twinge of guilt in her voice. "It'll teach him to flip up his face shield to get a better view though."

"R-red 8... you are OUT... and do you need medical assistance?" The judge's voice rang out uncertainly. Alkire could hear the high pitched, tinny sound of a youngish kid wailing about his eyes and face being ruined.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, CRYBABY! I didn't hit your fucking eyes, you just got paint in them!" Raine shouted indignantly. "Shouldn't have taken off your fucking mask, newbie!"

"Your parents were big fans of tough love when they raised you, weren't they?" Alkire commented, shaking his head in bemusement. "I am so not letting you be in charge of disciplining the kids ever again."

"I have no intention of letting you spoil them to death either. Sometimes you have to be harsh to get the best results."

"You can cut the hardass sniper act... I know you got a soft, chewy center just like those candy ba... holy fuck! Ack!" Alkire ducked as far down behind the cover of a barrel as he could, as green paint blazons erupted all around him. "Cease fire! CEASE FIRE! This is a friendly! I'm on your side!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. My fingers must have slipped. It happens when I let my "soft, chewy center" come to the fore sometimes."

"Yeesh... temper, temper. But at least you acknowledge you have..." Alkire edged out of cover, headed back towards the green base. He chanced to look up to where Raine was concealed on top of the base, and he had a sudden awful premonition, which was proven justified less than a second later when the green paintball blasted under his face shield and chin strap and struck him squarely in his adam's apple. "Ow...!" Alkire croaked, which was about as loudly as he could manage, falling backwards, hands clasped to his bruised neck.

"Oops. I guess you got shot. Looks like dinner is on you tonight, dear."

"Wasn't it... always going to be..." Alkire hacked and coughed a bit as he dragged himself back into cover again. Damn, he was going to be hoarse for hours.

"Like you said... it's the principle of the thing. Namely, you lose, I win."

--

"You know, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, Cy, but when you called out of the blue and said your boss had ordered you to take a vacation, and you pulled me out of my first major hit single music video production with your phone call, I was kinda expecting to go a little farther away than the nearest mall. Like uh, Hawaii or Japan or something." Wrenn pointed out, toying with her belt buckle almost shyly. Not that she was particularly shy, in fact usually quite the opposite. But Cy wasn't someone you criticized lightly. Not because he'd blow up and get angry or get in your face about it. She'd never seen him even raise his voice, much less freak out like that, even when directly and repeatedly insulted. But because, if you were going to criticize him, you usually ended up with the situation turned around on you, because of aspects of the situation you didn't know about yet. Like when she'd brought up the production costs her director was worried about, only to find out he'd already taken care of those details. Sometimes it was really intimidating having a boyfriend who was so far ahead of the game than everyone else that she could never really be sure if anything was really happening naturally, or because he'd planned things that way.

"Yes, well, I wasn't expecting to take a vacation, so you'll have to excuse the improvised nature of this excursion." Cyprus replied, his attention nominally wandering through the display windows of the mall, while his real attention was focused upon the girl... young woman... next to him. It was amazing how just a few changes of makeup and a different set of clothes could make for a wonderful disguise. Normally, if Wrenn Nostaliviche were to walk around in public, she'd rapidly be mobbed by dozens, if not hordes of adoring fans and eventually media. But change her clothing style from goth to semi-casual and change her makeup a little and no one had even glanced at her twice yet. Of course, it helped that she was clinging doggedly to his arm, since it was still a well known fact that Wrenn Nostaliviche had no romantic entanglements, and was even rumored to hate men in general. "I'm in the process of working some things out, but for the meanwhile, the mall will have to suffice. Besides, from what I hear from a friend at work, malls are wonderful places for the socially maladapted to ease back into society."

"Ooh... friend at work eh... what's her name then?" Wrenn nudged him playfully. Not that she expected Cy to have any other female friends. Well, maybe he had female friends, but not like her. For some reason, which she was unable to fathom but was disinclined to worry about too much, Cy apparently only had eyes for her, relationship wise. Of course, that might have something to do with the relative length of their relationship... going on five years now, she probably knew as much or more about him than anyone else besides he himself... and some of those things she knew weren't things you could just talk about with anyone. Cy was the strongest person she could imagine, intellectually, spiritually and most certainly emotionally... but that didn't mean she couldn't see how vulnerable he was at times too. Maybe that was why he liked her so much... since she could see his vulnerabilities without being scared of him. She'd never worked up the gumption to actually ask though. Sometimes, the real reason might not be something you wanted to know. With Cy, that was often the case.

"His name is Markov Ashino." Cyprus replied shortly, as they wandered, mostly aimlessly, through the mall concourses. It was the middle of the day, and the mall wasn't very busy... mostly shoppers out during their lunch break or teens either out to lunch or skipping classes for the day.

"Oo, full name... he must be a special friend then." Wrenn only half mocked. Cy didn't talk about his work life, or his work friends with her very much. She understood why... his work was not like most people's work, and he didn't have many happy stories or memories concerning it to share with her. Those he had, usually after much cajoling and pleading on her end, usually left her feeling bittersweet, so she'd learned not to pry so much. "I don't suppose I'm ever going to actually get to meet any of your other friends, am I? I know you don't want to "put me in danger", like you say, but really, how bad could it be just to have Thomas and Richard over for dinner sometime? I don't have to exaggerate when I say that some of the other girls in the band wouldn't mind snagging a boyfriend like you too."

"The only other boyfriend who'd be anything at all like me would be Markov, and he's already taken." Cyprus told her, his lips twitching in a brief almost smile. "Though Thomas and Richard would be very pleased if I were to extend your invitation to them. You'd be surprised how many fans you have in my unit."

"So it's decided then? Wedensday maybe?"

"No."

"No? But didn't you just say that they'd be happy to..."

"We all still have jobs to do. If President Argyle hadn't specifically and personally ordered me to take a vacation, I wouldn't even be here... there is no way I could justify taking Thomas and Richard away from their duties for an unrelated social event. Maybe once the war is officially over."

"You know, if I didn't know you like I do, I'd be really pissed at you." Wrenn elbowed him sharpely again. "You almost sound like you aren't happy to be here, y'know!"

"Markov recently asked for advice from me regarding his relationship with his certain young lady. Imagine, if you will, someone who has had a life so utterly abnormal that even things like wearing clothes properly and obeying traffic signals is foreign. Romance has him entirely confused, of course. He wasn't even aware of the concept until recently."

"So what did you tell him then?" Wrenn asked. Used to be, she'd have been wrongfooted by this apparent sudden change of topic, but she was used to the way Cy talked and reasoned now. Well, sometimes. He was building up to a point, something he didn't want to just blurt out and say. Guy's always complained about how girls never just told them what was wrong or what was bothering them directly, that they always had to deny something was wrong at all, or else approach the problem sideways, which inevitably led to more conflict or worse conflict. Just her luck that she, a direct girl, had managed to land one of the most frustratingly indirect men alive. At least romantically speaking anyway... from his stories, she knew that he was entirely the opposite when it came to work.

"I told him that there was nothing wrong with a soldier pursuing romance during a time of war. That the seeking out of pleasant company in order to maintain your emotional equilibrium is both understandable and acceptable. However, I also made sure to warn him that, if his feelings for this girl are as deep as I suspect them to be, that he should be very cautious in just how deeply he lets himself become involved. Soldiers like him are always deployed on the very front lines of combat, where death can be both random and sometimes unavoidable. I told him that he should be careful of going too far too fast, lest he chance making his girl suffer from the heartbreak of attending his funeral." Cyprus stared at a nonpoint about a half foot above Wrenn's head.

"Cy, if you're trying to tell me that you want to put some space in our relationship... even though we only see each other in person about two weeks total out of the year... could you just come out and say it?" Wrenn asked. "You've never hesitated to tell me what you wanted from our relationship before, why start now?"

"Because, sound as my advice to Markov was, after quite a bit of consideration, I find it doesn't ring true in my own heart." Cyprus told her. "If I were to practice what I'd preached to him, I should not be here right now. Yet, I find myself entirely unable to NOT be here right now. When Sai ordered me to take a vacation, my thoughts instantly went to you, and could not be shifted. Thus, I'm forced to conclude that you have become quite a bit more to me than just the mutual destressor I placated myself into thinking this relationship was."

"And frankly, that scares you, doesn't it, Cy?" Wrenn interrupted. She noted the faint expression of surprise, which most people wouldn't have even begun to notice on his usually implacable face. "That you, despite your walls of remorseless logic... or perhaps because of them... have managed to actually fall in love with someone. And not just a little either. That you value them so much that, when given any choice at all, you go to spend time with them, rather than any of the hundreds if not thousands of other ways you could be spending your precious free time." She grinned at him happily and hugged him. "Thank you, Cy. I feel much better now, even if you're being a dope about saying it. I love you too."

"It does bother me, yes." Cyprus allowed. "I hadn't thought you had so much influence over me. There's only ever been one other person to have so much influence over me, that they could affect my thinking and my desires so much that I didn't even realize I was being affected until afterwards. After I realized what had occured, I burned that influence away remorselessly... only to find that, in the process of so doing, I allowed someone else to take his place at my controls."

"Um, Cy, you're getting a little hard to understand, even for me. And when your voice gets cold like that, you start to... uh, uhm... well... you don't need to remind me what a dangerous person you are, okay? I get it, I really do. I got it since the first day I met you, when you dug that ricochet out of my upper groin and saved my life, and then I saved yours by stopping you from bleeding out from that stomach wound. And lets not even go into all the other stuff you've told me... and not told me... about yourself since then." Wrenn said, burrowing even closer to him.

"Wrenn, I am potentially one of the most dangerous weapons on this planet. With my training and my motivation, among other things, there are few people I could not eventually kill, few governments I could not eventually topple, and few ways anyone could stop me without massive collateral damage. In my way, this person that Cyprus Finch has forced himself to become is far more dangerous than a mere nuclear weapon or bio-engineered plague. I am not unstoppable... nobody is unstoppable... it's merely a matter of what amount of resources must be given up in order to stop them... and that amount is very, very high when it comes to me."

"Cy, could you just get to the point?" Wrenn mumbled, suddenly not feeling so good after all. "Are you trying to tell me that you want to break up or something? If so, could you say it in plain terms, at least?"

"No, I don't want to break up." Cyprus retorted harshly. He dropped his arms around her and hugged her back. "And that's what scares me. If anything were ever to happen to you, I don't know what I would do. Well... men sometimes say things like that because they really have no idea what they would do. I, however, know exactly what I would do. I just don't want to do it. Because if I did, I'd be just like that man who once had so much control over me. Thankfully, he is now dead, which I have confirmed with my own eyes. There is yet one more person like him on the loose, and until that person is destroyed, there will be no peace, no matter what happens between us and the PLANTS. But if I were to lose you, there then would be two such men on the loose, and I'm not sure the world could take that. Forgive me for my oscillation, but I really don't know what to do or how to say it."

"How about we get some ice cream?" Wrenn opined. She could easily imagine the look on his face... he wasn't the only person who could confuse people with a sudden topic change. "I find it helps, whenever I'm confused by something. Plus, ice cream is good."

"Ice cream is good for clearing up confusion. That's your solution?" Cyprus sounded faintly disbelieving. "You're holding the reins of a Hellhound in your hands, and all you can talk about is ice cream?"

"What's wrong with ice cream?"

"... Nothing. Nothing is wrong with it at all. In fact, I think it's a good idea. The kind of idea I never would have had. The right kind of idea, for someone who holds the reins of a Hellhound, I think." Cyprus kissed the top of her head lightly. "Thank you, Wrenn."

"Ummm... sure. Glad to do... whatever it was I did. But... where's the ice cream?"

--

"Looks like this is the place. Huh, not even a sign out front. These people are still very new to the whole concept of recruiting, aren't they?" Alkire commented, looking at the nondescript office built into the stripmall like complex. He was still shaking his head somewhat, given what he and Raine were planning to do, mostly on a lark. But then again, he was kinda curious... and this wasn't the sort of opportunity that presented itself more than once in a lifetime, most likely.

"Given that their military is almost entirely made up of volunteers, most of whom signed up during times of emergency and crises, I'm not that surprised that they haven't refined their recruiting techniques very much. All they've had to do was put out internet adds and maybe a few TV commercials, and those only to tell people where to go to sign up." Raine replied. She eyed him with a hint of suspicion. "You're not getting cold feet are you? This was YOUR idea after all."

"I dunno. Enlisting in ZAFT for kicks sounded so good last night... especially after the four vodka martinis. Standing here now though... I feel kinda like a civvy again, for some reason."

"Humph. I never would have figured you for the kinda guy who suffers from stage fright. It's not like we're actually joining up or anything you know. I doubt we'll make it much past the physical exam, with these wounds. I'm personally looking forward to hearing how you're going to try and explain away four gunshot wounds to the upper torso. A deep stab wound like mine... theres lots of ways to impale yourself upon some sort of object. It's less easy to accidentally acquire four bullet holes."

"Well, if you're looking forward to it, I can hardly deny you that pleasure, can I?" Alkire mustered his fragmented nerve and led the way into the building. The inside didn't look much like a recruiting office either, at least not like the ones he was used to seeing down on Earth, all hung with posters and banners and bumper stickers proudly proclaiming this or that about the various branches of service and the opportunities awaiting those who dared sign away their free will for the privilege of serving their country for four to six years. No, this place reminded him of a tax office for some reason. It wasn't very busy, he and Raine looked to be the only potential new recruits on the premesis. They didn't have to stand there long before a smartly dressed recruiter in the standard off green and tan ZAFT ground forces uniform bustled up to them and ushered them over to a desk.

Alkire eyed the man, who was well built, a real physical poster child sort of person, with tanned skin, shocking blue hair and yellow eyes. He had to blink glare out of his eyes when the young man... and he was a young man, certainly not much older than twenty one... smiled at them in a friendly fashion. If there was one thing he hadn't yet gotten used to on the PLANTS, it was encountering people with hair, skin and eye colorations that were entirely unnatural in positions of authority. Like this recruiter for instance. Yes, his hair was cut in a military fashion, if a bit longer and wilder than Alkire was personally used to seeing... but come on... blue hair, yellow eyes? What sort of image of professionalism did that send? Well, unless the majority of your people had white hair and blue eyes at age seventeen, or green hair and green eyes, or purple hair and green eyes or purple eyes and brown hair or... maybe blue hair and yellow eyes wasn't so strange after all, considering the people Alkire already knew.

"I'm Sergeant Gideon Wayne, of ZAFT's fourth Homeland Defense Security Force. I assume you're here to find out about why it's a good idea to enlist in ZAFT? Well, either that or our free donuts, but since people don't usually find out about those until later, I'll assume the former, okay?" The recruiter said cheerfully. It took Alkire a moment to realize that it wasn't an act... this guy was just a cheery bastard. A natural for recruiting work. Most people who went into recruiting secretly hated the job, or else at least had to force themselves to be pleasant to the civvies, whom most veteran military people regarded with a sort of envious diffidence, especially during wars. Plainly, even after just a few seconds with this guy, Alkire knew that this wasn't going to be at all like the time he'd joined the AFAF, or especially like the time he'd joined EFSOU.

Noticing that Alkire was a bit wrongfooted by the cheerfulness of the recruiter, Raine stepped into the conversational gap. "You'd assume right. We've only come to the PLANTS recently due to... well, I'm sure you know why. We've dithered around for a bit, enjoying the sights, wondering why we never moved here before... but we can't exactly forget about what's happening down on Earth either. And it's not in either of our natures to just stand back and let things happen if we can do something to help."

"Yes, thats the same attitude we've gotten from a lot of the new arrivals, if you don't mind me saying so." Sergeant Wayne replied. "I personally would have thought the Earthlings would have realized what was going to happen when they uprooted all those people and forced them to move up here, paid compensation or not. Our recruitment numbers have been higher since the start of the Isolation than any time except right after the Bloody Valentine. Of course, numbers don't make up for experience, but our training programs are top notch and as long as we continue to acquire motivated and passionate recruits it won't be long before we can get this war back on the right course."

"Well, I won't argue with you there." Alkire spoke up. "Although, and I hate to be blunt, but at least from what I've been picking up in the news recently... both here and on Earth... it seems like we're kind of on the back foot right now, you know?"

"We've had some fairly major setbacks recently, there's no point in denying that." Wayne answered, modifying his speech patterns and train of conversation slightly. These weren't fresh out of college kids after all... appealling to national pride, righteous indignation and personal losses worked well enough to clinch most people of his age group, but both of these people seemed to fit more into the "well informed adult" category, which took a bit more of a serious conversation to entice. "But the Alliance hasn't exactly gotten away scot free either. And we still do have the technological edge."

"Some edge, if you don't mind my bluntness either." Raine retorted. "The Alliance attacked Carpentaria three times. The first two times they tried swarm and overwhelm tactics, or else tried to use WMD's. Both of those attempts failed, due to the technological edge you speak of. The third time they sent a force of roughly equal numbers and they crushed our forces in a matter of hours, without using any WMD's or having a numeric advantage. To me, that suggests not only an incredible narrowing of the technology gap, but some serious tactical and strategic changes to their operations schemes."

"You're both very well informed." Wayne commented, reassessing the two potentials again. There didn't look to be much special about them phsyically... late twenties to mid thirties he guessed, physically fit from some sort of occupational exercise, well tanned from a lot of time outside in the sun, with loads of self confidence and obviously keen minds. Prime recruits, really, even if they were a good decade or so older than the usual recruit. ZAFT could use some more older, more mature and experienced people, that was for sure. Wayne decided to skip the initial talking up... these people were here for a reason, they didn't need to be convinced or cajoled into signing up. "Well, I have this whole spiel in my mind to go through, but I think it'll largely be wasted on you two. Why don't you let me grab some forms for you to fill out and we'll go on from there?" Wayne was already digging through his files for the prior skills and aptitudes forms. He handed the documents across to them, and was about to hand them pens when he saw that they already had their own. Bonus points for being prepared. These people were getting donuts, he was going to make sure of it.

Wayne patiently waited while the couple... he assumed they were a couple anyway or at least intimate friends... filled out the forms. He used the time to fetch a big box of powdered and glazed donuts from the back room...usually they were reserved for the staff of the office, or for people who'd already completed the process of signing up, but he'd already had to discard many of the standard incentive packages just from looking at the two of them, and so he felt donuts might help keep them friendly and open. They were good donuts after all. He passed the box of pastries across to them in exchange for their completed documents and commenced a brief speed read thru of the contents. It was something he was good at, browsing through the crap and extraneous information to pick out the real gems that mattered, that he could work with. After a few seconds his mind caught up to what his eyes were reading, and he had to start over again, reading much more slowly and cautiously. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of wide eyed perusal, he looked up at the couple again, as they somewhat smugly munched on the free donuts.

"These are some impressive resumes, I must say. What exactly do you do for a living again, Mr... Majesty?" Wayne asked, slightly numbly.

"Construction Engineering and Law Enforcement. I was also in the local milita and war re-enactment group. I'm afraid my personal philosophy runs somewhat to the tune of militant survivalism. I hope that's not going to be a problem, is it? And it's Alkire. You can call me Al if you want, Sergeant."

"Um, right. And you, Ms... Belaruse?"

"National Park Ranger, Fish and Game Department. I was in the same groups as Alkire, and I'm also a semi-professional target shooter and practising black belt in four different martial art styles. My name is Raine. Just like the stuff that comes from the clouds."

"So I'd not be going to far out on a limb if I said you both already know your way around a gun pretty well, correct?"

"Guns... explosives... man portable artillery... various sorts of nonlethal weaponry... a little bit of hand to hand combat..."

"... Knives... hatchets... bows... pretty much every type of sport rifle you can name... pistols... most martial artsy weapons... yeah..."

"And you say you've taken some courses in evasive and stunt driving, Al? You ever driven anything besides a squad car or ATV?"

"Sergeant Wayne, I don't mean to brag, but probably the only thing I've never driven or piloted is a mobile suit. I have my private piloting license and I'm currently qualified on basically every form of smaller than commercial airline atmospheric craft on the market, including most VTOL's. I can do tracks, tires, ground effect hover, even most forms of boats, though I'm still working on sailing." Alkire had a cocky grin plastered on a face smeared with white frosting.

"I'm pretty good with most ATV's and the more rugged kind of jeeps and trucks. Not much for airplanes or anything like that though... I can ride in them just fine, but fly them... no thanks." Raine had a smug look of her own. "I've also got a lot of backpacking experience... I'm used to being able to survive by myself out in the woods for a few weeks at a time, covering twenty to thirty miles per day on foot, hunting for food on the way."

"Well, color me impressed then." Wayne could barely believe his good luck. He'd make recruiter of the month if he could sign these two, no doubt about it. It was almost like they were built for joining the military. And they weren't just dumb grunts either, no siree... he could offer these two beasts anything from special operations to basic infantry to combat construction to maybe even the Mobile Suit core and they'd eat it for breakfast. "You have any particular preference for where you'd want to serve, when you join?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure we're both interested in the Special Operations side of things. I worked Homicide and SWAT, so the nitty-gritty stuff isn't new to me." Alkire replied confidently.

"Definitely. Nothing like shooting, skinning and eating all sorts of animals for sustenance on a daily basis to get you over the sight of blood and guts. Well, that and the occasional search and rescue for lost hikers or children attacked by wild animals. It can be a hostile world out there if you're not ready to defend yourself."

"And you'd like to stay together, I'd assume?" Wayne asked, checking off a box on their sheets. Spec Ops wasn't the easiest speciality to get into... those people trained with the Redcoats after all... but even if they ended up washing out, they'd still be good for pretty much everything else... and there was just something about this pair that made him think that maybe Spec Ops would be just right for them.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Alkire asked, actually curious to see how ZAFT handled this sort of thing. In the Alliance, it would be a major problem, a major no-no, having two intimate people in the same command, maybe in the same chain of command. All sorts of bad juju with regards to favoritism, or perceived favoritism.

"Probably not. ZAFT has a much more fluid command system than the Police or Federal institutions you're used to working for... and given the relatively youthful ages of our senior staff, at least compared to those of the Earth militaries, I think you'll find we're much less anal about intimate partners being in the same command. As long as it doesn't affect your performance, most Team Commanders don't give a rats ass who you sleep with or why. Obviously, there are some limits... but those limits are often decided by individual Area Commanders, so it all depends on where you eventually get assigned. From what I hear, if you can make it through the Spec Ops pipeline, given that we have so few people in that speciality, they don't care if you sleep naked on park benches, alone or with company, as long as you keep doing your job satisfactorily."

"That sounds refreshing." Raine commented, which it did. She'd never understood why so called "professional" militaries were so stuck up on not keeping intimate partners in the same unit. Yeah, sure, some people couldn't hack it when their wife or husband or lover or whatever was in danger and they broke down... but if people could demonstrate that they COULD handle it, what was the point in degrading unit efficiency by keeping those people apart? She much preferred this system of trust until proven untrustworthy, rather than assumed untrustworthiness from the start.

"Yes, I hear that a lot. And if you end up making it into the Redcoats... yes, they do recruit from Spec Ops sometimes... you can pretty much kiss the rule book goodbye. Well, maybe not goodbye, but we have so few Redcoats left we really can't afford to just get rid of them over stupid things like underage drinking or wild parties... especially given the kinds of stresses we usually put them under. I'd probably want to get hammered most nights too, if I had their level of responsibility. Though with you two I don't see that being too much of a likelihood... I actually prefer attached recruits... they usually get in less trouble than singles." Wayne ticked off a few more boxes. "All right, let's just do a quick physical exam and then I think we might be ready to start signing some more serious paperwork. Is there anything you'd like to declare before we get started? Prior medical problems I mean? Even if its drugs, remember, we can get waivers for things like that. I don't need to remind you that ZAFT is desperate for people right now, especially highly qualified people like yourselves."

"I knew this was going to be the sticky part." Raine said in an aside to Alkire. "Do you want to go first or shall I?"

"Why don't you show me how it's done, sweetheart."

"Okay. Well, first off, don't worry, Sergeant, I'm not a drug addict, current or former. Not to say I haven't tried a few, now and again, but never more than once or twice, and not within the past fifteen years. I do drink though, sometimes heavily, depending on how bad the situation is, but I've never had any alcohol related incidents either."

"Well, that sounds pretty standard actually, Ms. Belaruse. We might have to go over the specifics on those drugs in a little more detail, but I really don't see it becoming a problem, especially since it happened over a decade and a half ago. Are you otherwise physically fit?"

"Well, there's the sticking point." Raine, showing no concern for modesty, quickly unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off, revealing the thick bandages around her ribs and chest, and the other bandages around her collarbone area. "You look like you've been around a little bit, Sergeant. Do I really need to explain what kind of wounds these are? I also have a similar wound to the collarbone injury on my upper thigh."

Wayne had a sudden bad premonition steal over him. He'd not been on the front lines for quite some time, but he'd seen the pictures and read the writeups for some of the training accidents from the Maius bases. Unless he totally missed his guess, he was looking at a deep stab wound, of the sort usually only inflicted by a bladed weapon, and a pair of gunshot wounds. Minor gunshot wounds perhaps, but gunshot wounds were gunshot wounds, unfortunately. They didn't look terribly recent... but considering she was still heavily bandaged up, they couldn't have been suffered that long ago either. "I don't suppose you tripped and fell down some stairs while holding a knife and a gun, did you?" He asked, somewhat weakly.

"You should see the other guy." Raine said, sweetly enough. "Don't shit yourself though... it happened down on Earth, not up here."

"You're not really a park ranger are you?"

"I'd like to be, someday."

"Well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag then." Alkire stood up and shrugged off his own outer shirt. He chuckled grimly when he saw Sergeant Wayne's saucer wide eyes. "Yep. That's four... count em... four gunshot wounds to the torso and upper chest. Teach me to leave my kevlar vest on the rack, eh? JHP's too. I really should be dead, come to think of it. And you probably DON'T want to see the other guy, trust me. And I got mine in the same place she got hers, just a few minutes afterwards."

"So pretty much everything you two just told me was a lie then?" Wayne asked heavily, his hopes for recruiter of the month now suddenly as empty as the box of donuts.

"No, not at all. Just the bits about our former occupations. Everything else was either an under or overstatement. Much more of the under type." Raine replied. "Don't look so sad, Sergeant. Its not your fault we're a pair of cruel tricksters. I'd actually say that I wouldn't mind joining ZAFT... I like your system much better than I like the Alliance's. I just don't think you guys would let me, is all. Well, that and we're both kind of already under contract to someone else."

"You're mercs? I didn't think there were any real mercs left in the world." Wayne shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, mercs would be putting it a little strongly. We're Irregulars, you could say. Clyne Faction Irregulars, to be precise. And Naturals, in case you were wondering." Alkire corrected, putting his shirt back on. "Pardon our joke at your expense, Sarge. I'm agreeing with Raine though... I think ZAFT's got its head in the right place, from what you told us. Who knows, maybe after the war is over, if you guys still need people, I'll come around again."

"I could have you dragged to the brig for falsifying official documents." Wayne pointed out, having totally failed to see the humor in their so called "joke".

"You could try, Sarge, you could try. You're talking to a pair of people who didn't get invited to be part of the Hellhounds only because our political ideologies didn't match up with Asmodeus's though, bear in mind. Yeah, we might both be hurt, and hurt kinda bad... but do you really think we'd have walked in here if we didn't think we could walk out again without too much trouble?"

"Maybe so, Mr. Majesty, but all I have to do is wait for you to leave to call the MP's. Maybe you could take me out pretty easily... I'm just a logistics sergeant after all... but in your condition, you won't fare so well against a reaction team from the base."

"Ah now, lets not try and get ugly okay? Sure, we had a chuckle at your expense, but its no reason to get all pushy. We didn't sign anything binding, didn't swear any oaths. You're out a box of rather nice donuts and about forty minutes of your time, thats all. And you didn't look all that busy to me when we walked in. If nothing else, you're going to have a pretty crazy story to tell your buddies tonight, right? And if you wanna get right down to the quick of it, Sarge, I got bigger, nastier friends than you do to call on."

"Like who?"

"Uhm... Athrun Zala?" Alkire just tossed a name out at random from the repetoire. Wayne snorted and shook his head.

"Whatever. Even if you DO know Athrun Zala, which I doubt highly, I don't give a bent penny anyway. For one, he's something of a traitor to ZAFT. For two, I'm not female, and thusly I don't have an irrational love for him that overrides all other concerns."

"Ouch, that's pretty harsh. I can't wait to tell him about that." Raine chuckled gleefully.

"Okay, okay... how about Ysak Joule then?" Alkire offered.

"Traitor and war criminal you mean?"

"Dearka Elsman!?"

"Double traitor. Really not making me feel good about letting you walk away, you know, Mr. Majesty. If that really is your name."

"It is for the moment. Uhm... let's see... Andrew Waltfeld?"

"Commander Waltfeld's status is currently in limbo, pending investigation into his actions as commander of the Eternal. He doesn't currently have a single iota of authority. I think I might need to make some calls. For public security's sake, you know."

"Lacus Clyne! I'm playing the Lacus Clyne card! There's no WAY you can tell me THAT doesn't mean something to you!" Alkire cried, somewhat desperately.

"I respect Miss Clyne very highly. But she's a civilian and also has no authority over me. Besides, Miss Lacus wouldn't condone this joke in poor taste of yours, I don't think. Even if you could call her, and convince me that it was the REAL Lacus Clyne... given the number of die hard impersonators out there you'd be surprised how hard it is to tell... she'd probabaly be more on my side than yours, Mr. Majesty."

"I'm trying to give you an out here, Sarge, that doesn't involve me knocking you over the head and binding you up with duct tape! Why the hell do you keep shooting me down!?"

"You ate my donuts, Mr. Majesty. Those are very expensive and precious donuts. I can't let you get away scot free now that you've tricked me out of them."

"He's fucking with us. Goddamn, you got some balls, Sergeant." Raine commented with a smile. "Buy the man a fucking box of donuts and lets get out of here, Robert. I can't believe we just got the run around from a fucking recruiter. We need to go back to basic and get our asses whupped again."

Wayne waited for the two mercs-irregulars-scary people to leave before collapsing into his chair with an attack of the shivers. He couldn't even reach over to pick up the thick stack of bills the man... Alkire... Robert... whatever his name really was... had placed on his desk to pay for new donuts. He really had thought for a moment there that they were going to just shoot him and dump him when he got in their face about their joke. They could have, and probably gotten away with it too, if they were half as skilled as he hoped they weren't. He debated picking up the phone to actually call the MP's... those were some dangerous people walking around right there. In the end he decided against it. Maybe they really did have all those friends they said they did. And besides... he needed to go buy some more donuts, in case more potential recruits walked in. It wasn't like this was the strangest thing to ever happen to him during his time as a recruiter.

--

"Um, okay, Cy... I remember complaining about how going to the mall wasn't very exciting or... uh, well... romantic, I guess... but I really, really don't see why we're showing up to the airport at ten pm. Especially the military airport." Wrenn pointed out, as she got out of the taxi. Showing up to pick her up in a taxi wasn't really the most romantic of ways to start a night off either, in her opinion, but that was how Cy was. Not necessarily cheap... it was more a small limo than just a taxi... but she'd only ever gotten picked up by him in his car like once or twice. It wasn't like he had a crappy car either... she wasn't much of a car person, but even she knew a Rolls Royce Sport Deluxe wasn't something the average guy on the street kept in his garage. It was just that Cy really didn't like driving. Or so he insisted, though he was as good at driving as he was at pretty much everything else he did, or so it seemed to her.

"You'll understand eventually. You'll also want to put this on." Cyprus replied, with a slight enigmatic grin, handing her a heavy winter jacket, complete with gloves, hood and a face warmer flap.

"You know Cy, that while a mysterious man is sometimes very sexy, you're ALWAYS mysterious, so it loses some of its charm over time. It's almost seventy degrees out... a perfect night for maybe a windbreaker or a long sleeved shirt... I think this coat might be overdoing things a little bit, don't you?"

"Trust me. I've been making preparations for this all week."

"All week? When? I don't recall anything of the sort."

"Some people don't sleep more than three hours a night."

"Some people need to learn how to RELAX..."

"I am relaxed. You should see me when I'm being serious."

"I HAVE!"

"Well then you should know better."

"Oooooh... you'd better hope I like whatever this surprise of yours is. Or else I'll... I'll... I can't threaten you."

"You be surprised what I can consider threatening, when it comes from your side of the bed. Cold feet for instance. I really don't like cold feet. I'd almost perfer to be stabbed with a knife, rather than brushed with a cold foot at four thirty in the morning."

"I'm going to be giving you a cold shoulder if you keep making fun of me. It's not my fault I have poor circulation when I'm sleeping."

"It's not my fault either. I do whatever I can to keep your circulatory system working in high gear, I think you'll recall." Cyprus checked his watch and then nodded slightly to himself as the small plane taxied into view, engines already warmed up. "Put the coat on, please, Wrenn. It is seventy two degrees right here... but where we're going, its considerably cooler."

"We're going flying. At ten pm at night." Wrenn commented, somewhat flatly. "Sometimes, you know, I really do wish, despite everything, that I had a boyfriend who took me out to eat at moderately priced resteraunts in the middle of the downtown city. Just like most girls. But no. I had to get the guy who charters airplanes from military airports at ten pm at night, and wants me to wear winter clothing without telling me why."

"Anyone can eat at a resteraunt. Besides, they aren't safe. I can't even tell you how many people I've gunned down, poisoned, run over, strangled, stabbed or otherwise killed while they were out eating at mid priced, downtown resteraunts. If you want good food, I'll cook it for you. Just ask."

"Oh yeah... maybe I should have also asked for a boyfriend who WASN'T a paranoid super elite soldier-assassin." Wrenn shook her head, but followed him up into the passenger compartment of the plane.

"Compared to some people, like Major Jones, I'm actually a very trusting individual. I use my real name all the time, for instance. And I prefer the term "justifiable pragmatism". As I said... I, personally, have killed many people at such places. I could never feel comfortable eating in one myself, much less with you along."

"Most girlfriends would be really creeped out if their boyfriend casually talked about how many people he's killed, at resteraunts or not." Wrenn pointed out as she sat in the mostly bare passenger compartment next to him, after putting on the coat. She twined her hand in his and leaned against him as the plane taxied onto the runway and immediately started accelerating towards takeoff.

"Fortunately for me, my girlfriend seems remarkably tolerant in regards to that subject. Most of them deserved it, of course."

"Cy, all joking aside, please never tell me who deserved it and who didn't, okay? I'm interested in what you do... to a degree... but there's some things I really never did want to know. Like the time you lost your virginity. I could happily have gone my whole life without that story. It still makes me queasy, you know."

"You pried it out of me with alcohol and sexual favors, yet you complain now? I did warn you."

"And I didn't believe you, and I was WRONG, okay? Happy?"

"No, I'm not. It was a mistake on my part, and I loathe making mistakes like that. Please bear in mind that things really don't get much happier than that the farther back into my past you pry, all right? Really, it is for your own good that we not talk about it."

"This is really not helping the mood, you know." Wrenn pointed out. "Maybe we should talk about the future instead?"

"The future?"

"Don't arch your eyebrow at me like that and play stupid! You know exactly what I'm talking about! How long are we going to keep things... like this, Cy? Don't get me wrong, this is all like a dream to me... the best kind of dream. It always is, when we're together. But we're not together very much. A couple days every few months. I mean, I know you're busy and so am I... the band's getting really popular recently... but, I really, really would like to start seeing more of you in my life, ya know? Take this beyond a casual fling every couple months? I know I got a rep for not having a boyfriend... but that doesn't mean I can't lose that rep like an old coat with no regrets."

"It wouldn't be prudent."

"Prudent be damned! This is love isn't it!? What does prudence have to do with it!?"

"Do you have selective hearing? Or just selective memory?" Cyprus asked, calmly enough. "I'm a soldier and an assassin, Wrenn. I kill people for my job. Mostly people that deserve it, for one reason or another, often ones the public doesn't get to know, but it's not always like that. I live my life in constant danger of reprisal attacks and counter assassinations, not to mention any of the actual on the job hazards. My future life expectency is measured in years, not decades, by any informed observer. Anyone who is intimately associated with me also invites any and all forms of retaliation against me against themselves."

"Well I didn't expect it to be problem free! I have a few problems with stalkers myself, being famous and all that!"

"It's not YOU that is the problem, Wrenn. I can protect you, Wrenn Nostaliviche, to a degree I find adequate. But I can't protect Wrenn Nostaliviche, international media star, to any meaningful degree. Not without abandoning everything else in my life that gives it meaning. But by the same token, I realize how important your band and your friends are to you, and I cannot find it in me to ask that you give them all up just for me and my admittedly overprotective fears."

"So you have thought about it though..." Wrenn trailed off speculatively. As usual, he was ahead of her, and she was only now catching up to worries or problems he'd been considering for days if not weeks and months. "That's all I was hoping for. That you'd consider it."

"When I can think of an answer that is satisfactory for both of us, rest assured, I will not delay in telling you about it. Until then, I'm going to have to ask you to bear with me."

"Well, okay. But I'm going to be thinking too, you know. And you'd better not just shoot my ideas down out of hand either. You aren't the only smart one here."

"I have never shot an idea down out of hand in my entire life. It is truly amazing just what sort of crazy plan can end up working when you don't expect it to. Thomas is especially good at plans like that."

Before Wrenn could reply the intercomm crackled to life. "We're almost to the target zone now, Sir. You'll probably want to get ready, if you aren't already."

"Thank you Corporal, I will." Cyprus stood up and put on his own heavy coat and gloves, over which he then put a bulky looking harness.

"Um, okay Cy... spill it. What's that? And what the heck is a target zone? Where are we?" Wrenn demanded.

"We..." Cyprus finished buckling the harness on, and began buckling a second, smaller restraining harness to his chest and stomach area. "... are currently about twelve thousand feet above sea level and about fifty miles out to sea. It is currently cloudless, calm and quiet, with visibilty of roughly horizen length, unimpeded. This harness I am wearing is a modifed paragliding harness. And the target zone is the ambiguously assigned point in the sky where you and I will leave the plane behind. It's about time this finch taught his wren how to fly, I think."

"WE'RE GOING SKYDIVING!?"

"Paragliding is a bit different, but insofar as the fact that we will be jumping from this aircraft with only a few dozen square yards of specially constructed fabric to slow our fall to a survivable extent, yes, we're going skydiving."

"But we're fifty miles out at sea! There's no LAND to LAND ON!"

"Thusly the yacht."

"The yacht?"

"The yacht."

"You HAVE A YACHT!?"

"Me, personally? No. The President, yes. And he isn't using it."

"W-why?! SKYDIVING!?"

"There's a meteor shower predicted in this area tonight. It won't be visible in the city, with all the reflected light. From what I hear, its going to be quite a spectacular display. It should be starting roughly thirty seconds after we exit the airplane."

"You arranged a meteor shower?! For ME!?"

"Er... sure. I guess you can think of it that way. If by arranged you mean found out about it and took the time to make sure we could see it..." Cyprus's explanation was lost in the powerful hug she crushed him into. It didn't take too long to secure her into the frontal carry harness, and even less to explain what she had to do... namely, don't undo any straps, don't wiggle or kick too much and basically just sit there and enjoy the view. He stepped to the doorway, somewhat awkwardly, since Wrenn wasn't being very cooperative... she seemed more interested in snuggling up against him than helping him move... and opened the door, letting blasts of freezing wind gust into the passenger compartment. He stared down at the dark ocean below, and glanced up at the brilliantly starry night above, considered the warm weight of the woman strapped securely to his front and smiled. This was the sort of love he understood. He pushed off from the doorway without a single moment more of hesitation, even as the first meteor cut its flaming way through the upper atmosphere, a streak of sparks scattered across a world of potential.

--

"Okay... so are you going to tell me what the hell is the deal with this sudden excursion, Robert? We've only got a day or so before we have to meet up with all the kids again at Lacus's place. Why the sudden interest in going out exploring?" Raine asked, her head craned over awkwardly as she endeavored to fix Alkire with a steely glare in his pilot's seat of the two man survey shuttle he'd rented. It was hard, because she was strapped securely into the front copilot's seat, so much so that even turning her head took effort and skill. And she wasn't feeling much inclined to loosening her restraints either... Alkire was just the sort of guy who'd wait for her to get almost turned around before pulling a barrel roll or loop-de-loop for kicks.

"C'mon... it's SPACE for crying out loud! Its not like we get to come up or out here that often you know. Maybe it's just backdrop to the kids, but to me this really is a special place. Final frontier and all that. And this shuttle is a joy to fly." Alkire replied with a grin.

"I could have sworn I told you I never wanted to go along on one of your joy rides ever again. Bad enough how you pilot or drive in serious situations, I prefer not to have the contents of my stomach painting the interior of EVERY vehicle I ride in with you at the controls."

"That's not very fair. Where's your spirit of adventure, Ms. Park Ranger? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of hardcore sniper, right? Little bit of turbulence gets to you, does it? Turbulence like this?" Alkire began weaving the shuttle back and forth, up and down in harsh, jerky motions. "Uh oh, looks like we hit some space rapids... we might be stuck like this for a while. I hope you didn't eat anything that'll taste bad coming back up."

"Robert, you're moving up several places on my hit list for every second you continue to harass me like this. Don't think I won't shoot you someplace nonvital for revenge if you prov... provoke me enough." Raine swallowed heavily as Alkire spun the shuttle into a three hundred and sixty degree axial roll while also veering sharply "up" and "to the left" of her current "down". That was one of the real reasons Raine didn't like space... she dealt with things in a solid, tangible universe, where location was fixed, not relative. You were either above or below your target, to the right or the left, behind or in front. Such things weren't subject to change on a moment's notice, except in the rarest of cases. They most certainly weren't subject to change depending on something as simple as your own perceptions... no matter how much you wanted to disbelieve it, you couldn't do anything BUT fall down out of a tree... the ground couldn't fall UP to you. In space, something like that could happen. She really didn't like space.

"Oh really? What exactly is a nonvital location anyway?"

"Anything I don't need for my own pleasure, currently. You'd be shocked how many different places on the human body can be shot away without actually causing immediately life threatening damage. Well, beyond shock and blood loss that is."

"Yeesh, I should file for spousal abuse." Alkire brought the shuttle back under normal flying patterns. Fun was fun, but once Raine started making threats it was a good time to stop. Because after she started making threats, and then STOPPED making threats, THAT was when shit was going to go down for real later on. Not that he expected her to ACTUALLY shoot him, nonvital place or otherwise... well, not with real bullets anyway... but there was also the teensy fact that she was a master of hand to hand combat as well, and could probably turn him into a pretzel in under a minute if she was ticked off enough. Besides, he'd actually wanted to come out here for more than just getting his hand back in with regards to zero-G piloting, something he had a sneaking suspicion he might want to be brushed up on in case the kids needed to travel somewhere in a hurry. Like back down to Earth, to magically kick Sai and the Isolationists back into the stone age. Well, not saying it COULDN'T happen... he just didn't see how. "Can't you just enjoy the view a little bit? The stars are so close and bright, you can even see some of the planets way more clearly than you can on Earth. Landscapes don't get too much more spectacular than this, you know!"

"I suppose, if you're a fan of bleak emptiness, a toxic environment that is almost instantly fatal to humans, and hard radiation exposure." Raine turned her head forward again and looked out at the stars. That was another disconcerting thing to her. There was no end, no horizon point. She was just looking out, and out, and out... forever. Forever, in any and every direction. Bad enough feeling small when you looked at a mountain, or sailed on the ocean or walked across a desert... those were big places that made you realize just how small and relatively inconsequential you were... but at least you could quantify those. Measure them. Bound them, limit them. Space wasn't like that. You just kept getting smaller and more insignificant the longer you looked at it. She had enough morale problems without being forced to confront just how small she was compared to the universe at large.

"You don't have a very romantic soul, you know that?" Alkire commented after several moments of thought. He eased up on the controls, slowing the shuttle into a drift. "This is a beautiful, scary, frightening, belittling but ultimately refreshing environment to me, Raine. It's the ultimate study in contrasts... peaceful to a safe observer, totally deadly if you're actually out in it unprotected, absolutely cold and plasmatically hot at the same time, sometimes within millimeters of each other. It's a limitless environment that we are very much limited too. It's everything and nothing. I can't help but feel tiny and ultimately inconsequential when I look out into the depths of space... but whenever I come back, it helps me realize just what a huge impact on the lives of all the other small, ultimately inconsequential people I can have. We're all small and inconsequential together... and that means my actions do have consequences for my peers, which is to say, everyone who is also small and ultimately inconsequential."

"Never would have figured you for a poetic type, Robert." Raine commented. "And there's more romantic places to bring a girl, don't you think?"

"Space affects me oddly, I'll admit. And I disagree... I can't think of any place more romantic than the middle of space, you and I, in a small pocket of existence, surrounded by the bane of our existence, with just ourselves and a little bit of technology to rely on for our safe return. No one to disturb us, no neighbors coming to knock on the door, no other couples nearby, no tourists with cameras, no police or authority types to charge us with indecent conduct in public. Comm system is off for the moment. It's just you, me and the whole fucking universe watching babe."

"You're a twisted man, Robert." Raine retorted fondly. "But our standards of romance are wildly different. You seek your romance in times of peace, looking for locations and activities that are deeply meaningful to you. It's very... normal, I guess. Given how abnormal you can be, it makes a nice contrast. But for me, romance isn't something that is planned, doesn't have to be in any meaningful location and often occurs during moments or activities that most people would consider highly unromantic. Romance to me is when one person shows their love for another in an exceptional, perhaps unintentional manner during a time of stress or crises. It's going to sound odd, but I think one of the most romantic moments you and I have ever had together was when we were fighting on board the Archangel to stop the Tiamat terrorists from blowing up the bridge. I don't like pain, Robert, but to me, the single most romantic moment came when I was fading out and you jabbed your thumb into my shoulder wound to wake me back up so you could get the information you needed to give me the first aid that saved my life. It couldn't have been easy for you to do that, but you did it anyway. Because you love me."

"Well..."

"I'm a hardcase, hardass sniper bitch, Robert. I'm just a quiet one, most of the time. Moonlight dinners, panoramic views, deeply philosophic discussions... they have their places and times... but you're much more likely to touch the depths of my heart if we're both in some sort of life or death situation, where only our skills, luck and stubborn refusal to give in keeps us going. Maybe there's something wrong with me, that only during times when all seems lost I can open up my heart in full enjoyment, but that's how I am. I never have as much fun as when all the chips are down and all that's remaining to do is shoot, and shoot and keep shooting until I either die or there's nothing left to shoot. Send me a fucking clip full of SLAP (Saboted Light Armor Penetration) rounds with a heart drawn on it for Valentines Day, not some sappy card or candy, capische? Paint a fucking pineapple grenade in pink and white and yellow for Easter, and you'd better believe Christmas dinner won't be storebought, but fresh from the fucking fields and glens. That's the sort of woman I am."

"Christ, Raine, can't make it easy on a guy, could you?"

"Where's your spirit of adventure, Mr. Majesty?"

"Well, I suppose you do have me there, Ms. Belaruse. Though I don't understand one thing..."

"If its only one thing you don't understand about me, I haven't been doing my job right."

"If you'll just let me finish..."

"No, I don't think I will." Raine unbuckled her restraints and slowly removed her flight helmet. "Better lock down the fucking cockpit, Mr. The Universe is Watching, cause it would really suck to have hard vacuum interrupt us during a heated moment."

"Heated moment? In here? This place is the size of a fucking bathroom stall!"

"If Dearka and Miriallia can manage in their Mobile Suit, there is utterly no reason we cannot emulate them in a two man shuttle."

"Yeah... but he's limber, and eighteen, and a Coordinator and all that good stuff."

"Improvise. You're good at that."

--

Author Notes: Well yes, I have indeed returned, alive and... alive. Lots of personal problems on my end making writing consistently hard. Medical stuff I won't trouble you all with. Still, I am continuing to plug away at the story. I'm glad so many people liked the Dearka and Miriallia chapter. It was hard for me to write that one, actually. It really didn't turn out too much like I was planning it, probabaly because my outline did have enough stuff in it for a good sized mini-story, rather than just a "slice of life/romance chapter". Still, obviously, its generating good reactions, so thats pleasing. And yes, it is a little bittersweet, but I think thats appropriate. What real romance doesn't have a bittersweet moment every now and again? Besides, they are seventeen and eighteen, and despite my admitted liberal views on age appropriateness for sex and potentially families, thats still a bit too young in my eyes for a serious family, so it'll be some years yet before this problem rears its ugly head again in a real fashion. As for making its own ministory... well, I wish I could do that, but if I ever want to finish this story, much less get started on the others, that's not going to happen from me soon. Feel free to write one of your own, I don't mind.

As for there being more to the Dearka and Miriallia story, of course there will be. There won't probabaly be a chapter dedicated to them and them alone for a while, but I fully intended to extend their private little subplot in parallel with the main storyline, just as I will for all my pairings. Same thing for his family, and Ysak's mom, probabaly bits and pieces of Athrun's family and maybe even some OC's from Lacus's family (Canon never says whether she has any cousins or whatnot, don't see why she wouldn't/couldn't). They probably won't appear THAT often, at least directly, but you'll be hearing about them, certainly. They aren't throwaways, like poor, confused Sergeant Wayne in this chapter. As for whether the other couples will suffer the 20 percent problem... well, I haven't made up my mind. And that's all there is to it so far.

Yes, now I'm doing my two OC chapters. This one with the "military types" of Alkire/Raine and the more recent couple of Cyprus/Wrenn, who I am, if you haven't noticed, trying to draw parallels between, or at least likenesses. And then the next one, with the rest of my "bad" OC's, being Sai/Vanai, Ashino/Jean and of course, good old Zacharis Frost, who doesn't get to have a girlfriend for obvious reasons. That one will serve as a sort of wrapping up/stage setting for the climatic arc, along with the chapter afterwards, which features all the good guys together at Lacus's house. And after that, we're down into the time when you can start playing those wonderful Gundam "Final episode" music scores, because Chaotic Cosmos is going to go out with a bang and light show.

Finally, I'd like to thank you all for bearing with me during my longish absence, and thank you for your continued reviews, which I find both heartening and frequently inspiring. Please continue making suggestions and observations, by all means.


	100. The Blue, The Pure and The End of All

The very instant the buzzer went off, Ashino was already moving, out of bed, long kinfe whipping out from the sheath hidden under the pillow. He was almost halfway to the door before he realized what was going on, that it was just the doorbell and not an emergency klaxon. Before he could stop himself, ingrained reflexes had him flattened up along the wall next to the door, one hand on the knob, the other gripping the knife over his head, poised to strike downwards and outwards at any threats that presented themselves. Transitioning from rest mode to alertness mode dumped raw adrenaline and stimulants into his bloodstream and he felt his breathing start to become shallow and rapid, while the air itself seemed to become both more clear and slightly more solid. All of this happened without any conscious desire on his part. He consulted his internal timepiece and figured that he'd been asleep for only a little more than two hours... more than enough to be considered well rested, at least in his terms. Truly, it was sleeping longer than four or so hours a day that was hard for him, not staying up too long. Something which drove Jean batty sometimes, or so she said, since she wasn't the sort of person who liked waking up at four am, or so she continued to insist.

He wasn't expecting any callers at this time of night, and he hadn't heard his cellphone or pager go off either, both of which nosies would also have woken him up in less than a second. He wasn't really a light sleeper, per se, it was just that while he was asleep his senses were still in perfect working order, not dulled at all, so he could hear, taste, smell, feel and sometimes even see just fine while his body and mind were "asleep" or "resting". Another thing that Jean said made her feel kind of "weirded out", since apparently sitting in a chair with your eyes open, listening to her so called "music", reading a book but actually being ninety percent asleep was somehow uncommon. Never mind that such sleep learning had been how he'd received the majority of his technological and academic training. He shoved his introspective thoughts aside for the moment and yanked the door inwards with no warning whatsoever, at roughly the same time the person outside was off balance, reaching forward to ring the buzzer again. Just like he'd expected and calculated. Ashino's free hand darted out to grab the slim wrist nearest to him, in preparation for dragging the person forward either into a grapple or onto the point of his knife, whichever seemed most expedient. That is, until his eyes and memory informed him as to who exactly he was about to stab.

"Jean!" Ashino exclaimed in constrenation and surprise, his hand already grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her forward, off her feet and directly into his torso. He folded backwards immediately, knowing that otherwise Jean might be injured by being pulled into his considerably more than just solid body, especially given the sort of tug he'd given her arm and wrist. They both ended up on the ground, thankfully with him on the bottom, barely even bruised by the sudden, hardly controlled fall, his hand still on her wrist, her other hand just to the side of his head, her entirely too soft and interesting body lying across him like a blanket. His knife hand was poised above her, though he took care to rotate the knife as much out of view as he could, hiding it behind the muscle of his forearm. Jean had never been particularly bothered by the sight of weapons in his hands before, but Ashino had read that most girls didn't take lightly the sight of knives or other deadly implements casually held in hand by their friends. Perhaps especially considering he certainly looked like he'd been about to stab her, which he had been, regrettably.

"Ash... hello." Jean muttered, thoughts more than a little unsettled and awhirl at being quite literally pulled off her feet and inside Ash's temporary quarters, which were in a upscale apartment complex in the outskirts of Denver, which was the new Capital, since Washington DC was still a ruin. She chuckled a little, noting the surprised and slightly disgruntled expression on his face. It wasn't that he was displeased to see her, she knew. Well, she was pretty sure she knew anyway... that's what he adamantly insisted it was, and he really didn't have much talent for lying to her, so she believed him, mostly. It was the look he got when it was something HE'D done that displeased him, when he'd either reacted in a way he considered wrong or objectionable, considering the person he was trying to become. "Guess you're as happy to see me as I was hoping. Maybe even a little bit more so."

"To be honest I hadn't the slightest idea you were dropping by. You really should call before just dropping by. But yes, I am happy to see you. I'm always happy to see you." Ashino replied, as always refreshed and pleased at just how much he meant it when he said that. Given that only months before he was still stumbling over the words "love", "romance" or "like", at least when they came to refer to Jean, being able to say "I'm happy to see you" and mean it felt like great progress.

"You have that "I just almost did something I thought I had under control and wouldn't do again" looks on your face, Ash." Jean pointed out. She looked down at him, and smirked a bit, reaching up with her non-held wrist to straighten her glasses on her face. "And unless my glasses are broken, you also appear to be only clad in boxer briefs. Were you asleep by any chance?"

"Yes, I was asleep." Ashino admitted. He saw the way she was looking at him, and noted that his core body temperature was rising a bit, and his skin was starting to flush a little. Common reactions when Jean was around, especially in close proximity or direct physical contact. Not that HE was embarassed by how he was clad, of course. He was pretty sure he was incapable of feeling embarassment, at least when it came to clothing or lack of it. Not that he didn't eventually intend to figure out what was the logic behind such emotional feeling, it just wasn't a very high priority. And it did have its uses to have situations where everyone else was tongue tied with embarassment and he was able to act normally.

"Oh well, I suppose that explains it then." Jean's smile grew in a way he found most entrancing. "But while it's fun, lying here on the floor of your entryway with you, especially in just your boxers, unless you're planning to do a little bit more with me, maybe you should let me get up, huh?"

"Time out." Ashino said, his phrase for when he was confused by something and wasn't sure his response was the right one, socially. "What am I supposed to do when you say something like that, in a situation like this?"

Jean sighed and rolled her eyes, rolling off him and pushing herself to her feet. "Well, that depends, Ash. Mostly on you, and how you're feeling at the time. If you're embarassed, you'd probabaly want to just let go and apologize for yanking me around like a kite on a string. If you're feeling a little more adventuresome, you coulda said you like me just where I was, and we could have kept the moment going. Or, god forbid somehow, if you were feeling independently amorous, you could have just kissed me and let things flow naturally from there."

"I see. And which of those is preferable?" Ashino asked, sitting and then standing up likewise.

"Again, it varies, just like most social situations. There really aren't just three options you know, those were just examples. Sometimes you just have to go out and say what you're thinking, even if you don't know if it is right or wrong. That goes triple for you. I know you have troubles, so I'm not going to take offense if you say something that might not be appropriate... though for me, your girlfriend, to be lying on top of you in the situation we were just in, there really ISN'T anything you can say thats very inappropriate." Jean shook her head, wondering as always just when Ash would get to the point where he wouldn't need guiding. Not that it wasn't fun, and even enlightening at times, to explain the strings and reasons behind even the simplest of social, much less romantic overtures, but it certainly wasn't easy being the one who had to initiate stuff ninety percent of the time. Not that she had any intention of giving up... but... "So what WERE you going to say anywa... hey, is that a knife?"

"The reason for that expression you saw on my face." Ashino admitted. "I think I dreamt that the door buzzer was an emergency launch klaxon."

"Were you about to... stab me?" Jean asked. She noticed the slightly uncomfortable look on his face. "It's okay if you were. You didn't after all. And I really should have called ahead, you're right. If anyone should know better than to drop by your place at night time, unannounced and unexpected, it should be me. I guess I should just be glad you weren't doing any gun maintenance before you went to bed, huh?"

"Sorry?"

"Don't apologize, Ash, especially when you don't know why you're trying to. You didn't do anything wrong."

"That doesn't mean I cannot apologize though. I've learned that at least."

"You know, someday, some biographer is going to look back, sixty-seventy years and comment how it was unfair of me to socially adapt you into being such a sweet, biased towards making girls happy sort of guy. Unfortunately, I'm not so pure hearted that I'm just going to stop either, because I enjoy you how you are."

"I enjoy me as I am too, thank you. And I am betting there are much worse things to be biased towards, than making girls happy." Ashino replied, putting the knife down on the small kitchen table. His apartment wasn't anything special... well, that's what all the human people who came by said. A third story affair, with a small kitchenette that fronted onto a living room and the entry hall with a small laundry/utility room tucked into a corner, then a set of stairs going up to a second level, more a loft than anything else, with a bathroom, bedroom and storage space. A one or two person apartment at most, and even then it was sort of cramped, by some people... namely Ramierez and Glory's opinions. In Ashino's eyes, having lived in what was basically a single room cell for most of his life, with a single cot and a grated drain in the corner for a restroom, it was a veritable palace of luxury. He even had his own TV and sound system, though the latter played mostly dead air, since he had no idea what kinds of music he liked, and the former was usually only tuned to the news, since he hadn't the cultural knowledge to get much from any other sort of programming. "So, what brings you here anyway? I thought you would be in school."

"Eh, yeah, I was." Jean shrugged that little nuisance away. "I'm taking a little break though. Figured I should spend my time doing other, more productive things, you know?"

"More productive than getting a good education?" Ashino asked, mildly confused. That was why people went to school, wasn't it? To learn things, so that they could go on to higher forms of education, then onwards to getting jobs so they could live their lives, earn money and contribute to society? Ashino did not himself go to school... he was far too busy for one thing, and his friends assured him that he already had more than enough practical knowledge to get a job in many fields, and not just military related ones either. But that didn't mean he didn't want to go sometime, for the experience if nothing else. After all school was where Jean learned a lot of the social stuff she taught to him... obviously it was a place of great learning and culture.

"Gosh, you sound just like my parents, you know that?" Jean sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know I need to get a good education, so I can get a good job and all that bullshit. But really, I think some concerns override even THAT priority, don't you, Ash?"

"There are concerns that can override other priorities, yes." Ashino agreed. He wasn't sure if she was making a general statement or was actually searching for agreement about a specific thing from him, but he'd found that if nothing else, Jean was a more agreeable person when they were both thinking the same thing. Or believed they were anyway. Besides, he didn't see any harm in agreeing with her... it was true after all. "Things like wars and major political crises, right?"

"And helping your clueless boyfriend get his life together, because he doesn't know how to do it by himself." Jean prompted.

"Ah, yes, that too." A sudden thought occured to Ashino. "I don't suppose your brother and parents know you've decided to fly here from New York to see me and accomplish this task you've set yourself, do they?"

"I didn't run away without telling anyone if that's what you mean. Come on, I'm not the sort of girl to do that. I left them a note in my room. And it's not like I'm running away for good or anything... I'm just taking a week off or so. To work for charity. All the same though, if you do get a call from my parents, it might be a good thing if you didn't mention I was here." Jean twisted her hands somewhat nervously.

"I promised your parents I would never lie to them." Ashino pointed out. "That was one of the conditions they set me for "going out" with you. Though we don't really "go out" much, at least given how you define the term."

"Oh come on, no one expects people to realistically never lie. And if you really can't lie, then just omit information. There's nothing illegal or wrong in me doing this... you aren't holding me against my will, we're not having sex, we're both underage anyway, and its not like I'm not learning things from YOU too, you know. I promised my History teacher I'd write a report on President Argyle, since he's like the youngest President in history by such a huge margin. And my Physics teacher is practically drooling over the idea that I might be able to give a presentation on some of the new lightwave based tech the military is using. Falala's or whatever?"

"FRALA's. And that's sensitive and confidential military information. Regardless of the fact that I know it in detail, I cannot tell it to you. And if I did, you'd have to sign a contract with Sai and Cyprus watching, to not divulge it."

"Oh, don't be so obtuse. I don't want you to go telling me any secret stuff. Just the basic idea behind it. Ask Sai or Cyprus how much you can legally tell me. I don't want you to get in trouble, Ash, I'm just pointing out that I'm accomplishing more than just selfish goals in showing up here like this. Not that I don't have some selfish goals too... I really do like being around you, Ash... and I do need a place to stay... and your apartment IS just big enough for two people after all..."

"Time out." Ashino said suddenly, all his instincts sending him bad vibes. "Emotionally, I find myself agreeing with you. Having you around, living here with me would be very pleasant. Exceedingly pleasant. However, intellectually and instinctually, I'm seeing a lot of red flags. I don't think it would be very fun if the police decided that I had kidnapped you and tried to come in and rescue you. I might hurt them by accident. Eric probably won't be very happy with me either, come to think of it."

"He'll get over it. He's got his own girl problems to worry about." Jean asserted confidently.

"He has girl problems? Really? I hadn't noticed."

"You really shouldn't find that surprising, now should you?" Jean looked around the apartment. "Wow. Nice job on the interior decoration."

"Thank you."

"I was being sarcastic, Ash. The walls are bare, the carpet and floor are original products, even the curtains are original. You don't have any dishes in your sink, and knowing you, probably none in your cupboards either... you still eat with disposable utensils and paper plates at best, don't you? You do have a TV and sound system, which you probabaly don't listen to, and only use to watch the news in those few moments when you don't know the news before the newspeople do. They say that how people keep their rooms and homes can give you insight into how that person thinks and what their soul is like, and looking around, I'm forced to agree with that. Fortunately, it's not all bad. In fact, its mostly good. It's much easier to build good habits up from nothing, rather than having to tear old bad habits down first. I suppose I could go upstairs, but I really don't need to... I can already tell you how your room is likely to be laid out and how it's decorated... which is to say, except for a few pictures of me and you, it isn't." Jean noticed the somewhat crestfallen look on his face. "Oh, don't look like that, Ash, I'm not criticizing you... its hard for you to do stuff like interior decorating, I know. That's why I'm here. And to buy you some new clothes... I bet you're still wearing those rags I bought you in New York, right?"

"They're very nice clothes..."

"They're a season out of date. You can't wear them anymore."

"But..."

"Don't question me on this!"

"... Okay."

"Oh, and could you be a dear and get me something to drink please? I wasn't able to afford anything but coach class, and for some reason they aren't serving drinks anymore. I'm parched."

--

"Yo Ashino, how goes it?" Ashino looked up from the simulation report he'd been glancing through to occupy his hands and surface thoughts, while the rest of his mind was eagerly looking forward to the end of the day, when he was due to go shopping with Jean, for both clothing and interior decoration purposes. Then they were going to go out to dinner somewhere downtown. Somewhere mid priced, or so Jean was insistent. Apparently the mid priced places were better for romance, at least in the ways she was trying to teach him. Places where the food was good, the bill's reasonable,and the standards of conduct not so squeamish that you couldn't get away with a little kissing and fooling around as long as you made sure no young families were around. A small part of him noted down this new eagerness, which never manifested itself except when Jean was in the same geographic area as him... when she wasn't around, he really didn't care how long he worked... yet when she was, he even left early sometimes. Very interesting. It would bear due consideration at a later time.

"Mr. Ramierez, Mr. Glory, hello. Getting off shift?" Ashino nodded at the two former Hellhounds, now senior members of the Presidential Security Forces, who had rounded the corner together and greeted him.

"Oh wow, not only does he say hello, he even asks a social question! He's learning fast, he is!" Ramierez commented with a nudge to the lower ribs of the much larger Glory. "Won't be long now before he'll be slanging it with me and the homies, ya?"

"Ignore him, he's been up half the night helping with the babies. Little kids unhinge the poor bastard. Reminds him on what he's probably never going to have." Glory said with a shake of his head. "And just call me Thomas, or Tom. You're not really part of my chain of command, Markov, and technically speaking you WAY out rank me anyway. Saying Sergeant-Major or Mr. Glory all the time is just WAY too formal for my tastes. Even the Lt calls me Thomas. Course I call him the Lt no matter what when we're at work and most times away from it, but thats a whole 'nother story."

"That's pretty cold, Sarge-Major. Not only that, but it is entirely untrue! I have utterly no problems when it comes to women or babies. Certainly not the production of one with the other!" Ramierez protested. "And please, call me Richard or Rich. Or hell, even Ricardo or Ricky if you want and can stomach the vocabularly... generally respond to anything beginning with or sounding like RIC." Ramierez waited a beat. "And you can respectfully shut up, Sarge-Major. I don't respond to THAT form of Richard."

"Aww... the Corporal's getting touchy... how cute. Want me to stop out and buy you a bow and ribbon for your sensitive little ass, Nancy?" Glory replied with a grin.

"Uh, what form of Richard are you talking about?" Ashino asked, completely lost by their banter, though he had picked up on a few things they'd said. He figured he might as well ask them... he'd gotten good advice from Cyprus before, why not his subordinates?

"The form I don't like." Ramierez was quick to reply. "Begins with a "D"."

"Ends with "Dick"." Glory added.

"D-Dick?" Ashino asked, truly confused. "How does Richard turn into..."

"Nevermind." Ramierez rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Above your pay grade, man. Ask that nina of yours sometime, maybe she can explain it."

"Ah, I will then. I'll be seeing her in a few hours anyway." Ashino replied. Both Hellhounds had been on the verge of walking away, but they stopped and came back to him when they heard that, which was good, because otherwise he would have had to chase them down to get their advice.

"Coulda sworn she was in New York, going to school. Yet you say you're seeing her in a few hours?" Glory asked. "I mean, not that I'm trying to pry into your business or anything, man, but... I just don't like being out of the loop. Like to keep my thumb on things, especially things that involve the happiness of my friends."

"No, its fine. In fact, I was hoping to ask you two for some advice regarding her. Jean's always telling me I should be seeking out other forms of social knowledge from my peers and the people around me, so if I could ask for some of your time maybe?"

"Markov, my friend, you have come to the right place." Ramierez said with a huge grin. "There are few greater experts on the social interactions of men and women than the Sarge-Major and myself. We will be only too glad to give any advice we can to a friend in need. Isn't that right, Sarge-Major?"

"Entirely." Glory nodded his head in relative enthusiasm. He was tired, but this looked like it was going to be a LOT of fun. Of course, Ashino was entirely too easy of a target sometimes, but sometimes you just had to take the easy shots anyway. Like when they walked right into your line of fire. It wasn't even really your fault anymore, at that point in time, or so he believed. Besides, what was the worst thing that could happen? "So, what do you want to know then?"

"Well, we're going out shopping for clothes and interior decorations for my apartment later today. But that's not really what I want to ask about... I'm reasonably sure I know what to do in those situations, and even during dinner later on. But Jean always asks me to try and be more spontaneous and romantic... and I have no idea how to do that. What can I do to be spontaneous and romantic?"

"Oh. That's all? I thought you were going to ask us how to try and get her pants off or something hard." Ramierez chuckled and shook his head.

"It's easy?" Ashino wondered.

"It does depend on the girl a little bit, but yeah, its not that hard." Glory rumbled. "Like the Corporal says, getting the girl into bed with you is usually considerably harder than just giving her a romantic night out... although the latter usually does have a higher chance of ensuring success of the former."

"I... don't think I have any... carnal interest in Jean right now, actually..."

"You like kissing her, right? Holding hands? Hugging?" Ramierez prompted.

"Yes..."

"You've got carnal interest, my man, you just don't know it. But that's okay, because you're seventeen and she's seventeen and even if its not a felony to fool around with both parties at that age, it's still cool that you don't want to." Ramierez was quick to reply. "Now, an important part of romance is setting the mood. Or, in the case of spontaneous romance, sensing when the mood is right. Simplified, its like this... you kiss a girl when she's happy, you're gonna get kissed back. Kiss same girl when she's sad or pissed off, you're gonna get slapped. Now, obviously girls get happy for different reasons, but there are some common themes that the greatest majority like and its generally safe to start with some of those. Things like moon or starlight walks in peaceful areas, going to beaches, going shopping, going to fancy resteraunts... I advise a fancy place for dinner, those mid priced places are fucking deathtraps..., going to sappy romance or drama movies, going to the theatre, concerts, etc, etc."

"That's a pretty big list." Ashino observed, wondering how he was going to fit stuff like that into his nights and days with Jean.

"Its only a tiny portion of the list, actually." Glory corrected. "And most of them will probably be hard for you to utilize properly, given your rather exceptional personal circumstances... i.e., you haven't the slightest fucking clue on how to be normally social. You're getting better, admittedly, but you've still got the social skills of a particularly well behaved fourth grader. And I'm not saying that to be mean, its just how you are right now. See, the mood doesn't just have to do with location or what you're doing with a girl... it also depends a lot on you. How you act. How you talk. If you're witty, suave, charming, sexy, interesting, etc. It can be affected by how you dress, how she's dressed, how you're dressed compared to how she's dressed, how agressive or passive you are when doing things like ordering dinner, if you can make her laugh and not just at you, how you style your hair, how pushy or shy you are with regards to things like kisses and hugs... its a whole different battlefield out there."

"For you though, I think we might have to recommend the supported course of action. You obviously, through no fault of your own, haven't the slightest idea of what to do for setting the mood. The Sarge-Major and I on the other hand, are past masters at it. We will thusly put together a recommended plan that you will follow, utilizing the resources we provide you, as a sort of training regime. I have several mood setting strategies that are utterly garuanteed to set the proper romantic mood your dear Jean is wishing for, and combined with the fail safe measures the Sarge-Major has, there is NO possibility of you losing out. Isn't that right, Sarge-Major."

"Totally. Completely garuanteed to work. I take a different girl home most every night of the week. What kind of record could be better or better speak for itself than that?"

"Wow, that IS pretty good. Thanks!" Ashino watched Ramierez and Glory nudge each other slightly. "Say... you wouldn't be trying to put one over on me, would you?"

"Markov, Markov, how could you think so little of us? We have your best interests at heart here. My record isn't nearly as pristine as the Sarge-Major's, but I've had dozens and dozens of girlfriends over the course of my life... I've got so much practice at picking up women I'm surprised they don't PAY me to do it, thats how good I am. I swear on everything I hold holy, even my precious Lamborgini, that we are not screwing with you when we say our practices work constantly for us. There shouldn't be any reason they shoudn't also work for you. Right, Sarge-Major?"

"Yeah. Of course. I swear on my brand fucking new silver Porsche convertible, my methods get me girls at every bar I go to. I don't have to sleep alone unless I want to." Glory affirmed.

"Oh. Sorry for doubting you. You guys are the experts here after all. You don't tell me how to fly Mobile Suits, I should probably not tell you how to give romantic advice, right?"

"That is exactly the right spirit, Markov. Now, here's what you gotta do, and listen real close now..."

--

"Hello Markov, you're in even earlier than usual today." Cyprus noted, surprised to find Ashino waiting for him in his office when he got there at five am. Markov was usually the second or third person there after Cyprus, though as of the last few days he'd been coming in later and later, probably because of a certain feminine entanglement that had dropped into his lap a few days ago. Some people might be bothered by the fact that the current third in command of the Isolation military was a seventeen year old, socially unrefined, love-addled teenager, but then again of course, Markov Ashino was far from a regular teenager. And even love-addled, late meant forty minutes before work officially started, so Cyprus certainly wasn't going to raise his eyebrows, especially given his own problem children... like Ramierez. How the man managed to slip into the Hellhounds, the most elite unit in the Earth Alliance Military, without being able to be punctual or more than barely acceptably dressed was a constant wonder to him. Of course, he could hardly just throw him out either, because the results the man produced were undeniable. And, truth be told, for all their personal differences, Cyprus rather liked Ramierez and his friendly, accepting nature. The Hellhounds needed at least one person like that. And besides, without Ramierez, Thomas would be bored out of his skull, and likely wasting time trying to pry into Cyprus's own life instead.

"Well, Jean making me sleep outside my own apartment has a little bit to do with that actually." Ashino replied, feeling unaccustomedly prickly and irritated. Not that sleeping outside had particularly bothered him on a physical level, even if passing cars on the highway did wake him up every three minutes, give or take ten seconds. And he COULD have gotten back into the apartment if he'd tried... it was just a normal wooden door and normal windows after all. But Jean had been QUITE upset with him, and he really didn't feel like going through the bewildering emotional trauma of trying to explain things to her while she yelled at him and threatened him with all sorts of punishments. He'd just been following the script Richard and Thomas had given him, using the same materials they'd given him. It was supposed to be failproof. They'd promised that it was going to be failproof. And he'd ended up sleeping outside his own door for his trouble. It had taken him a while, but, right around 3 am or so, he'd finally been forced to come to the conclusion that, since Jean was very tolerant of HIS messups, that meant that because she was intolerant THIS time, it must have been the plan from Richard and Thomas that had gotten her so upset.

"I don't suppose you've been talking to Ramierez and Thomas recently, have you, Markov?" Cyprus asked, pinching his nose slightly in anticipation of a slight headache. He could afford such gestures with only Markov around, one because he was very similar to Cyprus in thoughts and methods, almost like a little brother in a lot of ways and two because Markov didn't have the awed prejudices most everyone else did, where they expected him to be inhumanely unflinching and controlled, all the time. It was tough at times, maintaining his public facade of absolute impenetrability.

"How did you know that?" Ashino asked, suspicion written plainly on his face. He hadn't realized Cyprus was keeping such close tabs on him, he certainly hadn't seen any observers, mechanical or otherwise.

"I'm not having you followed, Markov, be at ease." Cyprus sat down in his chair, somewhat heavily. "Of all people, you're one of the few I don't need to have followed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Besides, this isn't the first time I've had this particular problem crop up. In fact, its almost a regular event, or it used to be, back when the Hellhounds were still recruiting new members that is." Cyprus didn't feel like explaining his off handed compliment. "You've just gone through something of an informal indoctrination event. Many units have them, especially elite units, high stress ones where you have to prove yourself before you can even apply, much less actually become part of the "team". The regular military calls it "hazing" and has strictly forbidden it for reasons of bad morale and some hazing going bad, resulting in injuries, even deaths. However, in Spec Ops, no good commander worth the name is going to force his people to hold to every silly standard or rule, as long as the major ones are followed and his troops use common sense with their little informal events. If I recall correctly, now that you've been "initiated" by the Sergeant-Major and Corporal Ramierez, the unofficial master of indoctrination ceremonies, you are now a "Full" Hellhound. I hope they didn't cause too much of a problem for you?"

Ashino thought back... the look of surprise on Jean's face, which gradually soured into disbelief, then a little bit of anger, then outright anger, then finally screaming fits of rage that ended up with him sleeping outside his own door. "I don't suppose you know what NC-17 means, do you? Jean wouldn't tell me in any comprehensible manner. Ramierez said it was "Named Clients version Seventeen", and that it was one of the best romantic comedies ever made. She sure didn't like it very much though. And I don't recall any jokes being made either... just a lot of people taking off their clothes very rapidly and for not very good reasons."

Cyprus coughed a few times, and half turned away to collect himself. "I... don't suppose they told you to, "talk up" how great this movie was, and how many times you'd watched it before, did they?"

"Yes, they did. They were very adamant that I stress just how much I thought the film was quality cinema. I didn't like lying, since I'd never seen it before, but they told me that sometimes, to set a romantic mood, a guy has to... "exaggerate or otherwise bend the truth of things". They assured me that their methods would work. Every time I started feeling doubtful, they brought up the fact that they get girls to come home with them willingly multiple times per week, so I could hardly argue with that kind of experience and strategy."

"Next time, Markov, I'd advise you to ask them WHY exactly they bring home MULTIPLE girls per week. Why isn't just one enough? They certainly aren't sleeping with more than one at a time. Where do the girls go afterwards, do you think? If Thomas and Ramierez are such romantic experts... why aren't they married like Sai and Vanai are?"

"Are you telling me that they actually aren't romantic experts?"

"I'm telling you, Markov, that there's a difference between romantic love, which is what you were looking for advice on, and picking up drunk chicks at a bar, which is what they do."

"So they were lying to me then?"

"Mostly. It would have been hard not to, even considering your naivete."

"Ah. Well, then I feel much better. I don't suppose it would be unfair of me to have considered retaliatory actions then?"

"Define "have considered"."

"Pre-emptively taken."

"Ah."

"I didn't have anything else to do at three this morning. Since Jean had locked me out of my apartment and wouldn't speak to me."

"You didn't hurt them, did you?"

"Never. I don't like hurting humans, especially co-workers. I feel the nature of my retaliation was just, considering the oaths they swore. In fact, assuming they adhere to their normal daily schedules, you should be getting calls soon from them." Even as Ashino spoke, Cyprus's phone rang.

"Why don't you get it." Cyprus decided. Ashino shrugged and picked up the phone. He listened to the very loud, very frenetic blare of noise for a few seconds, before he pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out to Cyprus.

"It's in Spanish. Loud, very fast Spanish. I can't understand a word he's saying." Ashino reported. "From his tone though, I'd image he's regretting his oathbreaking."

"That and perhaps plotting your death. Ramierez only switches to Spanish when he is truly enraged. What did you do?"

"He swore an oath on his Lamborgini. However, he won't be driving it until he replaces all the windows, scrubs off the spraypaint, replaces the tires, the brake lines and most of the interior. Which I didn't steal or break, I merely removed and left on the sidewalk."

"Given where Ramierez has his apartment, they were probably stolen after you left."

"Oh. Oops."

"I don't suppose..." Cyprus broke off as the phone rang again. He put Ramierez, who hadn't stopped his blue streak yet, nor, as far as Cyprus could tell, repeated himself, on hold. Cyprus answered it first this time. "Hello Thomas. Car trouble? Oh, thats very unfortunate. Yes, yes I know its new. Yes, I can imagine that you would be. No, I don't know who did it. Who has the guts to vandalize YOUR car, Sergeant-Major? You're going to be running a little late coming into work then? Yes, I understand. Thank you for calling. I'm sorry about your car." Cyprus hung up somewhat heavily. "It WAS a brand new car, you understand? Next year's pre-sale model, with all the upgrades."

"Cars can be fixed. Especially considering I didn't break anything. I really wanted to, but I thought that might be petty."

"Markov... I know you aren't very good with financial matters, so I suppose I can forgive you for not considering this... but do you have any idea how much money it is going to cost Thomas to have his paint job stripped, redone, rewaxed and repolished? That's after he pays to have the engine reconstructed, of course."

"Did I mess up a little bit? Is it a lot of money?"

"I'm going to say that you should take the day off, Markov. Go work from home. Or better yet, take Jean out on the town. Go somewhere nice and make up with her. Buy her a gift on the way home. Flowers, chocolate, maybe even just a nice big breakfast. Something to help you say you're sorry for being taken advantage of by your peers. Because, regardless of your problems, this is somewhat your own fault too. Thomas and Ramierez are good people, mostly, but that doesn't mean you should try and involve them in your romantic life. I'm glad we could all learn this lesson with only a single bad night for you, and several tens of thousands of dollars worth of damages for them."

"Are you seperating me and them?"

"I'm putting space between potentially volatile powers, in the interest of perserving the sanctity of these offices. Whether or not a full on Isolation becomes necessary I will determine after discussing with Thomas and Ramierez just WHY it is a bad idea to play practical jokes on people with no concept of social or financial responsibility. The last thing I want is for there to be any lasting bad blood from this incident, so I would expect that you might have less money in your accounts after today than you would otherwise have had. Not that it means much to you anyway."

"That sounds fair, I guess. I figured I should probably come in early to tell you about this... I figurd that if you heard from Thomas and Richard first, they might try and stack the facts against me. Plus, I didn't have anywhere to go but here."

"Yes, Markov, thank you. Now go home, eat breakfast and then leave the city. Come back late. Perhaps so late that you might not even come in according to your normal daily schedule tomorrow. Be a little spontaneous... like evasive maneuvers, even if you can't see any enemies around. Just to be safe."

--

Sai put down his pen with a giant, internal sigh of relief. That was the last document he'd promised himself that he was going to do today. It was late, but not nearly as late as he usually stayed up working. This President of the World job was for the birds. That, or older politicians who didn't have stunningly beautiful and sexy wives, or two young children who were the pride of their father's eye, to serve as far more pleasant distractions from the tedium of being the most powerful person on Earth and Earth Space. Seriously, he could now, slightly, understand why God never showed himself to anyone else... the paperwork by itself would be truly hellish for that kind of media firestorm. Having absolute power pretty much seemed to mean that you just had absolute responsibility for all the bullshit that went down, making the tottering apparatus of a world government somehow work all day long without breaking down or blowing itself up. He really, really seriously wished he could delegate his responsibilities, to a council maybe, like the PLANTS used, but outside of the military sphere, he didn't have anyone he could trust, besides Vanai and maybe one or two other people. And while Vanai was already pretty much his vice president, by sheer volume of work if not actual title, he didn't like putting more responsibility on her shoulders than he had too... she had Matthias and Jessi to worry about too, and they were more than enough for anyone.

He didn't even have truly functioning legislative and judiciary branches yet... those who hadn't been wiped out by Frost had fallen in the media bonanza caused by Sai's initial confrontation with Asmodeus in Hawaii, and while new representatives were being elected, and new judges being appointed, it wasn't an instantaneous process by any means. Unlike Cagalli's restructuring of Orb, his political system was merely badly damaged, not utterly uprooted and destroyed, so he hadn't the option of starting from ground level and building upwards, which would have made things so much easier. And there was always, always the issue of trust. So few people truly adhered to his ideals for an Isolation Plan. So many only paid lip service, and then worked to restore the status quo of special interest groups and financial based government. Two things which Sai himself was working to eradicate as much as possible, even though he knew it was likely hopeless. Four hundred years of the status quo wouldn't disappear in a single term, no matter what sweeping changes he instituted.

All he could hope for was getting the Isolation fully in place and then making it fully self sufficient from the Governments of the world. If he could do that at least, take the toys away from the toybreakers and bullies, then he could at least feel like he'd actually accomplished something. It was shaping up to be a much bigger task than he'd initially thought. Really, it was getting harder all the time, especially now that the Isolation of Earth had been successfully completed, with the re-re-annexation of Orb. Where before many people who would otherwise have been causing problems, like they were now, were silent or cooperative because of the strong, central leadership he provided during the power vacuum from Panama and crisis at the Moon, now that there was relative peace, all out political war was brewing, despite his best attempts to keep everyone united. Everyone wanted a bigger slice of the damn pie of power, whether it was economic, political, military or even territorial in some cases. Sai just wanted to throw all the pies into one big mishmash and flush it down the nearest toilet. That'd teach em. Course, he couldn't do that... but it was nice to dream.

Speaking of dreams, tonight was supposed to be one. He'd been putting as many of his top people on vacations or paid leaves of absence as possible during the last few weeks. Both as rewards for all the hard work they'd done so far, and down payments on the rewards they wouldn't be able to get for a very long time afterwards, because they were about to enter the most critical phases of the Isolation Plan, where the PLANTS would likely make one last, desperate attempt to break the Alliance stranglehold. Some people were easier to reward than others... Cyprus had to be forced by direct order to leave, for instance. Sai appreciated the gesture of course, but really, if his top military advisor was worn down to the quick, they were going to be doomed. And even Cyprus Finch could get worn down. Getting Ashino to take a break wasn't easy either, though he was actually fortunate on that score, because Jean Kellson had taken it upon herself to fly out to see him for a while. Maybe it hadn't been fully ethical of him to quash any and all attempts by her family and local law enforcement to locate her, but, goddamn it, his top Mobile Suit commander needed a vacation too and so he called it "needs of the nation" trumping "needs of high school graduation". He'd put the whole fucking school on a delayed semester if he had to.

Just about the only person whom he couldn't put on an actual vacation was himself, but that was to be expected. He was doing everything he could to lighten, limit or redistribute his workload though, at least for a few days. Enough to give him a few extra hours a day with his friends and family. It was always incredible to him just how revitalized he felt with an extra thirty minutes of time with Vanai, Matthias and Jessi each day. He couldn't even begin to imagine life without them anymore. It wouldn't be one, he was pretty sure. It had been a long and hard road to where he was now... he'd lost a lot of friends, both to deaths and to differences. A lot of people he respected highly now hated his guts, and perhaps even wanted him dead. He'd been forced to do things he never would have imagined he'd have to do... but he'd done them when necessary, and he was certain that history would prove that he'd been the one who was right. It was just a matter of hanging on long enough for his changes to become permanent. Five, maybe six years ought to be enough. At least, he hoped and prayed as much. He wanted his life back, after all.

He was just standing up when his desk pulsed and flashed a light signal made up of golds, blues and reds. "Aaahggh! God FUCKING damn it!" Sai slapped the desk with his hand in constrenation. He debated just ignoring it... no one would be able to call him on it. The visual signal flashed again. Gold, Blue, Blue, Red, Gold. Sai plunked himself back down in his chair. Gold leading, followed by two Blue's in a row. This was something somebody considered critical level intelligence. Not necessarily military intelligence, since there was only one Red, but to put Gold on either end of the code meant it was pretty damned urgent. He so desperately wanted to leave and get on with the rest of his evening... but he couldn't. Not and feel at all comfortable for the rest of the night. He accepted the message into his computer, while also turning off its "recieve" capability. This was the LAST fucking message, for real now. Now the only thing that could get in would be a Six Gold, meaning that the PLANTS were nuking them all right then and there, or something of similar consequence, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't need a desk to tell him if that was happening.

"Report from Polar Recon Unit?" Sai muttered questioningly, opening the first of several vid documents. It showed a lot of white. Snow, ice, airborn snow and ice... grey clouds. He couldn't make too much out of it. It was only after the view zoomed and refocused a few times that he could make out a tall, spindly, almost skeletal shape admist the blizzard. He leaned in closer as the view zoomed in, closely watching the scale. Twenty plus meters tall, whatever it was. And he had a pretty good idea what it was. He'd had forces scouring the globe for the lost ZAFT Gundam pretty much ever since Orb had formally surrendered. After seeing the battle footage of it with someone like Kira at it's controls, the thought of such a thing being under the control of Zacharis Frost, and no one knowing where he was... it kept him up sometimes at night, he wasn't afraid to admit. He never would have thought the maniac would go to Antarctica with it though. There was NOTHING in Antarctica... no bases, precious few scientific outposts, little more than a wasteland of ice and a few very well adapted animals. Of course, that also apparently made it a pretty good place to hide, since, according to the date stamp, this video had only been taken two days ago.

It raised the question of what Frost was doing, just hanging around in Antarctica for more than two weeks now... everyone who even slightly knew the freak always stressed his lack of patience for delays or complex plans. Sai was still considering that when the image on the screen suddenly tilted, swam and then fuzzed out in a wash of static. There had been no sound during the whole clip, but Sai felt he had a pretty good idea what had occured... whoever... or hopefully whatever... the Polar Recon Unit had been hadn't been hiding near well enough. It was frightening sometimes, just seeing how sharp Ashino's senses were... and by common assent, Frost's were incredibly more acute. Obviously acute enough to locate whatever the Polar Recon Unit was in the middle of a blizzard. Sai closed the staticky clip and looked through the rest of the file. It didn't take more than a few minutes of watching other video clips for an icy hand to grip his heart tightly.

The next clip was dated twelve hours after the first. It was labeled "JIHAD", and showed, for about three minutes, the still slightly smoking ruins of that former Blue Cosmos stronghold. It was only because he was watching closely that Sai saw the flicker of grey and red eyes before the screen dissolved as well. So Frost was at JIHAD then... what was there? Nothing, not even the old Blue Cosmos mainframe, Sai was pretty sure. The next video was ten hours after that, and called "Northern Argentina". It was mostly jungle, and Sai couldn't make out any sign of the ZAFT Gundam. Nevertheless, the screen dissolved to static about a minute and half in, in the same fashion as the other two had. There were two more video clips, one labeled "South Ecuador" stamped very early that morning and the last, time stamped around noon, called "Panama". Sai watched both clips, neither of which lasted longer than twenty seconds before staticking out.

"What the hell is this? Where the hell is he going? Why hasn't anyone else spotted anything?" Sai asked the silent office. "Where DID this come from? I wasn't aware of any forces operating in the Antarctic region... I'd written it off as unlikely that he'd go there. Obviously I was wrong to do so, but still... I wasn't aware of any such effort. And if Recon units are disappearing as often as these clips would indicate, SOMEONE would have raised a big red flag by now. Bodies or wreckage would have been found. Reports missed. I would have heard of SOMETHING. But this... this is coming out of NOWHERE! Who sent this?" Sai closed the file to look up the address the file had come from. He stopped short. There wasn't one. The address slot was blank. "What the hell!? WHAT THE HELL!?" Sai jerked backwards from his screen as his message programs, background, desktop, hell the whole fucking computer went dead. His screen was black. Black, black... he was reaching for the reset button when a simple message appearing in bright blue letters on the black screen.

"He's coming for you. They're ALL coming for you. Be prepared." Sai read. "What in the name of..." Sai trailed off as the message went away, to be replaced by three big digital timer displays. The one on top was lightning blue, counting down the hours to a point in time roughly a week and half away. It was labeled "Angry Sky". The one in the middle of the screen was bone white in color, and it was counting down hours to a time about a day before the Angry Sky timer ran out. That one read "The End of All". The last timer was bloody crimson in color. It sat at zero, as if waiting to start. It read "Fin", like what some movies had at the end to indicate that they were over and done. Sai watched the timers count down for several minutes before he tried to restart his computer. It didn't work. As soon as the power came back on, the timers were there again. No matter what he tried to do, even completely unplugging the machine and replugging it back in, he couldn't get past the timers. It was like the whole OS had been re-written, turning his computer into one big digital timer, and that was it.

"Sai...?" Sai jerked, waking himself from a sort of half daze, half trance. He'd been staring at the timers like they were counting down his own life, for who knows how long. He didn't know what to think... was this real? A ghoulish practical joke? But what sort of person had the skills to hack the Presidential computer? Kira MIGHT be able to, assuming he could tap a land line somewhere. Maybe Athrun too. But they WERE up on the PLANTS, he knew that for a FACT. Besides, neither of them would send a message like this, a combination of a warning and a psychological taunt that was unsettling him to his core. And certainly never about Frost, of all people. Frost was NOT a joking matter. "Sai?" Sai forced himself to concentrate on the here and now. Vanai was standing in the doorway, already dressed in her evening gown, a certain impatient look on her face all he needed to see to know that he'd been sitting there for a good while.

"Oh. Hello, love." Sai turned the power off to his computer as he stood up. Practical joke, serious warning or psychological ploy, he didn't want to burden Vanai with it, and there didn't look to be much more work he could get done anyways, if the computer was as fucked up as it appeared to be. He debated calling Cyprus, but decided against it. Those timers were set for weeks. A few more hours shouldn't make that big a difference, one way or another. Besides, he was tired... exhausted even. He'd be much better able to evaluate the veracity of what he'd seen in the morning, after some refreshment time with his family. "I guess I kept you waiting again, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Vanai commented, her irritation slowly mellowing to slight concern. Sai always looked so stressed out these days. He was shouldering way too much of the burden himself, was her opinion. She'd told him as much, and he even agreed with her. But who else was there to give it to, like he'd told her? Cyprus and Ashino and other friends were already loaded down to the max with things concerning their own specialities. And she herself was kept busy for most of each day already, with the babies if nothing else. She had staff to help take care of them, yes, but she didn't want her children to be raised by surrogate parents... she'd had incautious friends who got pregnant do that, or who were raised like that themselves, and she'd never liked the results of that sort of thing... children who didn't know their own parents were just sad, in her mind. Her own father hadn't always been a major presence in her life, but he'd never tried to fobb her off on anyone else either. Certainly not the perfect parent, but she liked to think she'd turned out all right. "Are you feeling all right?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. If it's still an issue in the morning, I'll talk to you about it then." Sai replied, shrugging off her concern and replacing it with a big, slightly cocky smile. Kind of like he'd used to do, back when they were still first getting to know each other. All of a year and some months ago that was, it felt like forever and a half. How far they'd come indeed. From being basically a fugitive to leader of the entire World in less than two years. His biography was going to be insane. "I'd like to concentrate on being happy tonight, if I can. Assuming you can forgive me for keeping you waiting that is."

"I don't know. I really hate waiting." Vanai smirked at him, but accepted his kiss, and the embrace that followed. "Hmm, not a bad start to an apology though."

"How are they?" Sai asked, just holding her close for the moment.

"Sleeping. It's been a long day for the both of them. They miss their father. He works too much."

"He does. And he's really sorry about it. There's a lot of work that has to get done."

"There's ALWAYS going to be a lot of work that has to get done, Sai. Your children won't be babies forever."

"And with that stinging admonishment, I should probably hurry and go see them then, while they still are."

"It might be prudent, yes. I'm certainly not giving you any more for a while."

"A while, huh?"

"Ask again when you aren't working more than two hours a day. The next Argyle can be YOURS to raise."

"That much fun, huh?"

"You'd better believe it. Now, lets get going, eh? It's only ten o'clock... the night is young, and you've got more than children to tend to."

"I feel like I'm dreaming."

"That's ALL you'll be doing if you don't get a move on."

"Yikes! Yes, ma'am."

--

"Okay Ash, spill. What's the deal behind this sudden trip into the mountains?" Jean asked, scrunched up next to Ashino in the crowded shuttle bus. "You're not running away from another practical joke gone bad, are you?"

"I did not flee. I was sent away peacefully. And Thomas and Richard's cars HAVE been fixed, and they have sworn that there is no hostilities between us any longer. They were chuckling in a quite threatening manner at the time, which makes me doubt their sincerety, but no, this isn't another forceful seperation between me and my co-workers." Ashino replied, calmly enough. He hadn't expected the bus to be so crowded. He'd gotten a tipoff from Cyprus earlier that day... actually very early that morning... about a long lasting meteor shower that was due to occur in ther northern hemisphere that night. Well, technically it was already ongoing... Cyprus was already enjoying it over in the North Atlantic, Baltic Sea area, where he was apparently vacationing... they just couldn't see it in Colorado because it was daylight. But the shower, mostly bits and pieces from the debris belt, was due to continue for several days as about thirty thousand tons of various space debris reached the point of terminal decay in their orbital path and were reclaimed by the Earth's gravity. Much of it would burn up in instants in the upper atmosphere, but there were enough larger fragments to provide an apparently spectacular lightshow to anyone who could get far enough away from a major population center that the reflected light wouldn't blind them anymore. But Jean didn't know about any of it, and he was testing himself to see how long he could keep it a secret.

"Yeah, okay, whatever. By WHY are we going into the mountains then?"

"You'll find out."

"Don't you dare be mysterious with ME, mister! I can read you like a book!"

"Then you shouldn't need to ask me then, it should be obvious, right?" Ashino was puzzled slightly by her reactions... she really could read him pretty well... better than he could read her certainly, by orders of magnitude. But if she really could read him so well, she should have already figured it out. But she hadn't. That led him to believe she was actually bluffing. That gave him some confidence. He knew how to bluff. He'd had to... no way of survivng around Frost or Cray or the other high end BCPU's if you couldn't bluff and make yourself seem tougher than you were.

"Tell me!"

"No. You'll find out."

"Teellll meeee. Tellll meeee!"

"You will find out. Be patient."

"I don't wanna be patient! I wanna know now! Teelll meee! Please!? I said please."

"You did. So what?"

"So what!? Didn't your... right, nevermind. You wouldn't have gotten that social more, would you?"

"Hmm?"

"Forget it. Just tell me! Why! Tell me why! Please!?"

"I'm actually having more fun not telling you when you act like this."

"Tell meeeeeeee!" Jean butted him in the chest with her shoulder and draped herself onto his lap, writhing back and forth slowly. "I know you wanna tell me. You dooo. You doooo... stop denying yourself... you wanna tell meee..."

"What are you doing?"

"Well, standard methods aren't working, so I'm turning up the heat a little bit. If I can't wheedle it out of you, perhaps I can be so annoying about it you'll tell me to save yourself the irritation and embarassment?"

"I haven't felt irritated since Thomas and Richard played that joke on me. As for embarassed... why, now?"

Jean sighed heavily. "You're a tough nut to crack, when you wanna be, you know that, Ash? Okay, fine. We'll play it your way. I can wait. You'll tell me when the time is right, of course?"

"Of course." Ashino and Jean sat in mostly companionable silence for about fifteen minutes.

"Okay, screw this. The right time is NOW!"

"Hmm?"

"Don't "Hmm" me! I taught you to do that! Tell me why we're going to the mountains!"

"That would ruin it." Ashino replied, as seriously as he could.

"Ruin it? You mean... there's a surprise planned?"

"Yes."

"Will I like this surprise?"

"My experience with you and my fervent calculations say yes."

"Does this surprise have anything to do with why you packed your bag seperately from me, and are carefully keeping it safely tucked behind your foot?"

"Probably."

"Probably? You suuure its only probably?"

"What's with all the questions? I thought you preferred demands."

"Demands weren't working. So now, I'm going to play twenty questions with you. I don't want you to tell me what the surprise is. I'm going to guess. You're going to say yes or no. Does that sound okay?"

"Do I win if it takes more than twenty questions?"

"Provisionally, yes. But it won't. You're terrible at concealing things from me. I'll know in just a few minutes. Now remember... you have to be honest."

"I'm always honest, when it comes to you."

"I know. You're the sweetest thing sometimes, Ash. All right, here comes the first question. Does it have to do with..."

The game of questions persisted for most of the remaining trip, which took three hours. Finally, the shuttle stopped, just after reaching the continental divide. Altitude fourteen thousand and a few hundred feet. It was just a few minutes after dusk, and Ashino checked the time compared to the notes he'd taken from Cyprus. The first major shower should be visible in about... six minutes. Perfect timing. The bus had taken a little longer than he'd expected, due to all the people on board, but he'd factored some delay time in, just to be safe, and things were working out just fine. Except for the fact that Jean was not speaking to him in words longer than one syllable. She'd gotten close a few times, but inevitably her guesses left her haring off on wild goose chases concerning things like skiing trips, snow sleigh rides, mountaintop lodges, wildlife watching, concerts, or wilder things. He'd been exposed to more of the rough edged side of the female human psyche than he ever had before... when Jean got frustrated, she wasn't very pleasant company. Especially because she was pinning the blame for her frustration solely on him, and not her inaccurate guesses.

"Ooh. Mountaintop. Bare snow. Bare rock. Very few people. Very cold. I am not impressed." Jean's less than currently dulcet tones reminded him that he needed to get things started, preparation wise.

"Are you mad at me?" Ashino asked, to fill the time as he slowly started leading Jean up the well worn gravel path, even higher up the mountain.

"What would give you that impression?"

"Well, it has been nine hundred, forty six questions, and you haven't guessed right yet, so you might be unhappy with that outcome. You were close a few times though, if its any consolation?"

"Ash?"

"Yes?"

"Are you mocking me? Because if you are, I don't care if you ARE a super strong, super fast BC... whatever the heck... I'm going to kill you. Slowly."

"I'm not mocking you. I don't know how. And besides, it wouldn't serve my own goals for tonight. Having you mad at me to start out with is enough of a problem without compounding it with something else. Though I have been wondering... what exactly do I win, since it's taken you more than twenty questions?"

"Grrrrrr."

"This looks like a good spot." Ashino decided, simultaneously deciding that when someone started degenerating into growling incoherently, it was probabaly a good time to start affecting their emotions in a happier direction. He took out his pack and opened it, rapidly setting down a groundcloth and then erecting a small tent... more three wind resistant walls, with a fourth wall that was an entrance flap and then a clear plastic ceiling. He also took out a pack of chemical heating packets, which he snapped, activating the flameless heat sources. His final touch was a self inflating air matress for two, which went inside the tent. He poked his head out of the completed shelter, to see Jean gazing at him with mixed incomprehension and a little worry on her face. "It's going to be much warmer in here." He pointed out, wondering at her hesitation.

"You just set up a tent... on protected soil... in a national park. Illegally, I should stress. Maybe no one can see it in the dark... but tomorrow morning... there's going to be several VERY pissed off Park Rangers wanting to talk to you. And me too, probably."

"Really? I had no idea."

"They're not going to take that as an excuse."

"Well, I brought along a failsafe mechanism, in case of any major problems. Garuanteed to fix any problem on Earth."

"A gun?"

"My cellphone. Though a gun does solve many problems, it tends to cause them as well."

"What's so special about your cellphone?"

"The people it can call. Sai told me to give him a ring if anyone tried to give me flak tonight or tomorrow. Do you think the Park Rangers will want to talk to him?"

"I think... you might have a point." Jean agreed. "However, I still don't know WHY we're here, even if it ISN'T going to be a legal problem."

"I suppose it is the right time. Or close enough." Ashino checked his time. "Look up, please. And to the north east, for the best view."

"Best view of... oh wow." Jean's voice caught as she saw three brilliant streaks of orange and yellow and white cut across the night in the indicated part of the sky. Barely had they passed when four more appeared. And then more, and more, until that part of the sky was seemingly being pawed at by giant celestial cats with claws of fire. "Meteor shower? I didn't hear anything on the news."

"It's just space debris. Of course, at orbital velocity, whether its a styrofoam ball or ball bearing, it really doesn't matter that much. From here, it's just beautiful. Like at least one other thing I can see."

"That was... that was a pretty cute line, Ash."

"Thank you. I'd been waiting to use it all day."

"You're not supposed to admit that." Jean admonished, climbing into the heated tent with him. "Thanks for the surprise. Way better than just any old concert or skiing trip, I will admit."

"You're welcome. Does that mean I'm forgiven for being secretive?"

"It means, you get the winner's prize."

"And that is... oh... oh, I see. Good prize."

"I am, aren't I."

--

"Waiting... waiting... waiting... I really hate waiting. You lied to me, Mr. Machine. You said it would only be twelve days. It's been almost sixteen already. And now, you want me to wait another nine days? You must be crazier than I am, to think I'm going to do that!"

"You really don't have much choice. The time isn't yet right."

"Who are YOU to decide what time is right for MY destiny, Mr. Machine? What do you know about it?"

"Enough to have decided that the time isn't yet right."

"Oho, you're a funny one, Mr. Machine. You make me chuckle, you do. I'm promising you here and now... you'll be hearing me chuckle as I slowly bury you under the ashes of everyone you ever cared about. Alive, if disemboweled. Once I figure out who you are."

"You don't scare me, monster."

"You don't know me, Mr. Machine, very well at all then. I scare everyone. Everyone, everything, from the simplest bug to the most annoying Pink and Yamato and their plethora of fiendishly lucky friends. They're all terrified of me. I'm even beginning to suspect that dear Grey, that lovable man, is actually afraid of me, somewhere in his heart. I don't see how he can't be. I know for a FACT that you, Mr. Machine, are petrified of me."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, Mr. Machine, you're trying to hold me back. And, you're talking to me through a Gundam, presumably one you had some hand in building. A Gundam formerly operated by a dear uncle of mine. A dear uncle who happened to be a member of a certain family. A certain family of Coordinators. A very rich, wealthy family of Coordinators. A far reaching group, certainly... but far from numberless. Isn't that right, Mr. Borander?"

"I'm not confirming anything."

"That's all right, Mr. Machine, you don't have to. After all, the only difference it really makes is priority. You're all going to die anyway. You're just going to die sooner than others. Not many others, but some others."

"By all you mean Coordinators?"

"By all, I mean ALL. Even me, at last. Even the animals. Even the plants. The bugs. Everything alive will not be."

"Leave the animals alone! They didn't do anything to you! They didn't do anything to anyone!"

"Ah... a soft point, animals, then? What do you care about the beasts, you space monster? I'll admit, they are generally unsatisfying to kill, since most are barely self aware enough to grant me any enjoyment for snuffing them out... slowly, painfully, artfully... but why should that alone be reason enough to spare them? It isn't. As for doing anything to me... or anyone... most people... I use the term loosely, to categorize a type of animal that walks on two legs and provides enjoyment when killed, by the way... haven't DONE anything to warrent their death either. Besides being alive when I am. Its... unfortunate for them that their predecessors couldn't learn to live in peace. Would have saved them a lot of trouble. And pain. And beautiful bleeding all over the place. Oh well. Such is the human condition. Sucks to be human, don't it?"

"You really are insane."

"Aha, yes, I am, thank you. But I sense a slightly hurt tone. Maybe someone didn't realize that little factoid until just now? Maybe you thought I was faking it, just a little? Ahaha... no. Fortunately not. I am fully crazy. Fully aware of it. And fully enjoying it. Perhaps you were hoping to appeal to some hidden better side? You can do it anyways, if you want. I don't mind. I could use another chuckle. Since you won't let me go anywhere."

"You're MORE than welcome to leave, monster, any time you want. But the Pulsar isn't going anywhere for eight days and sixteen hours, thirty four minutes, fifty seconds. And counting."

"You... you think you can just play the scenes however you want, don't you? You really disgust me, Mr. Machine. You're crouched in some dark room right now, sitting at a computer most likely. Scheming your schemes, plotting your plots, fully confident that it is you, and only you, who has ever been in full control of history recently. Maybe, to a degree, you are even correct. However, I can assure you, you have NOT accounted for every variable. No one can fully account for me. Or for Pink. Except for me. I have their measure now. I know their luck. I have stolen their greatest strength. Corrupted their strongest warrior. Poisoned their very heart and soul with my own essence."

"You have potentially created your very worst nightmare of a nemesis, you stupid, insane freak. You had no idea what you were messing with when you tampered with an Ultimate Coordinator like Kira Yamato. He's become far stronger than even you can hope to match."

"That's where you're wrong. Very wrong. Heh. Heh heh. Yes, wrong. They've never stood on even footing with me. None of them. Even if he HAS grown stronger because of what I did to him... so much the better. The tougher they are, the more beautifully they break in my grip."

"You're such an egomaniac..."

"No, Mr. Machine, I'm a maniac, certainly sociopathic, probably a tad schiziophrenic, joyfully homicidal and suicidal even, to a degree. Whether or not my ego has anything to do with that, I can't say for sure. I have pride, but I'm not afraid to discard it if I need to. I believe that I've really become something more of a force of nature, than anything else. A wildfire. A volcano. A tsunami."

"Only an egomaniac would..."

"Takes one to know one, Mr. Machine. You're a bigger egomaniac than I am... after all, you're the one trying to talk down to me. I'm treating you just like I would anyone else who I can hear but not kill. I'd actually like to ask you a question, Mr. Machine."

"You can ask. I'm not obliged to answer."

"Do you still wet the bed, Mr. Machine? You surely can't be older than about ten or so. Its nothing to be ashamed of... I wet my table even when I was sixteen and older. Of course, that may have been because they were running electric current through my brain and spine, but I'm not one to nitpick details or look for excuses. My father once mentioned something about a detestable little nephew up in the PLANTS. He mentioned it in the same breath as he talked about Pink's little boytoy, Yamato. The same breath in which the chance phrase, "Ultimate Coordinator" happened to be placed. Perhaps that accounts for the slight stress you placed upon the phrase when you accused me of not knowing what I was tampering with? A little elitist, are we? So far, from what I've seen, Ultimate Coordinators aren't so tough. I've certainly never had any trouble with the Boytoy before."

"Groundless speculation."

"Ahaha... someone is upset. Has to have the last word, don't you, Mr. Machine? You burgeoning evil little genius you. I think I can see why the Doc hated you so much. I think I can see why EVERYONE hates you so much. Yes. No one loves you, do they? Not truly. Not unless you manipulate them into it. Force them into it, perhaps? I wouldn't know what you can do. Or how. It doesn't really matter. You're alone, Mr. Machine. All alone, in your dark room, with your computer. Talking with me. The agent of your inevitable demise. How does it feel, Mr. Machine, to look helplessly at the twisted face of the madman killer who is going to hunt you down, in your dark, lonely room, one of these nights, with a knife in hand, gleefully to cut your precious little eyes from your skull and devour them... shortly before I feed you toes first into a mulcher? Does it scare you? Do you deny that it scares you? Are you telling yourself "it'll never happen"? That the crazy guy doesn't have a fucking clue what he's talking about? Please, Mr. Machine, keep telling yourself that. It makes my life easier when my prey is in denial."

"..."

"What... nothing to say? Nothing to bolster your faltering courage, Mr. Machine? No taunts? No denials? No logical arguements? Are you just going to give up then, Mr. Machine? Resignation makes things even easier, you know. But then again... resignation must be a familiar feeling to you, right? Since you're all alone I mean. No friends. A family that isn't one, except in name. No peers. No one who understands you. Maybe except for me, but you don't count me. You're too scared to count me. You're a frightened little animal loving boy, yes you are. I think I might just hop out and kill some random wildlife, you know. With you in mind. I'll tell them it was you that inspired the rampage. I'm sure their souls will be waiting for you in the inevitable afterlife. I wonder what they'll say."

"I'm the one in control here. This conversation is over. Feel free to rave as you like, I won't be listening to you, Mr. Frost."

"You don't have to listen to me, Mr. Borander. You have to listen to that terrified thumping in your chest and that sick feeling in the back of your throat. I'll be seeing you in hell. Twice. Once in the hell of my creation. And again, in the hell of God's creation. Assuming there is such a place. Which I hope there is, because otherwise, I'm going to be really bored when I die. Good night then, Mr. Machine. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite. I want all of you to myself. Heh."


	101. An End to the Dreams

"Oh my god, I believe I have just glimsped hell." Ysak muttered to Katie as their car passed through the automated gates that barred road access to the Clyne family estate on Aprilius One. She looked at him quizzically, so he nodded his head at the flocks, literal FLOCKS of bouncing, squealing multicolored plastic balls that were Haro's. "I'd forgotten just how fucking MANY of the things he made for her. He used to bring them over to her house two or three times a week for a while there." He caught the look Katie was giving him. "Not that I was paying THAT much attention to what Athrun was bringing Lacus for gifts or anything like that."

"Uh huh. Sure. You just happened to notice in passing, I'm sure. For several weeks at a time. You didn't stalk him at all. Ever. Of course not." Katie replied, smirking at the mental image of Ysak in a dark coat and hat "tailing" Athrun like some sort of spy through the streets. "So what color flowers did he usually bring her?"

"I much prefer the term "Hunt", rather than "Stalk". Stalking is illegal and just plain creepy. Hunting implies a certain amount of respect for whatever it is you are after. It also implies a certain predatory-prey relationship that stalking implies the reverse of." Ysak replied, as the car slowed to a stop, next to five other similar cars. "They were white and, of course, pink. Rarely yellow as well. And I'm trained to remember things like that. You're the one always trying to play the "commando training" card on me, while now I'm playing it too." Ysak looked around, not seeing anyone coming out to greet them. There was just the impressively huge house, a mansion by any standard, even on Earth, the park like grounds, the driveway and the hordes of irritating robot-pets, who were thankfully keeping their distance for the moment. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed slightly, or relieved. "Do we REALLY..."

"... Have to do this, yes, we do." Katie finished for him, getting out of her side of the car and stretching langorously, her back and thighs stiff from almost a half day of packing, car travel, shuttle travel and then more car travel. She felt Ysak's eyes and flicker of keen interest focus on her for a moment as she held the pose for his benefit. "You should be careful, Ysak-y... it would be kind of embarassing to have Lacus pick up on your line of thought just now, eh?"

"From what I hear..." Ysak drawled slowly, getting out of the car himself and likewise stretching. "She's pretty occupied on those fronts right now herself. And my source is the DEFINITIVE expert on that sort of thing, or so I'm told."

"You sure you're going to be okay here for a full week?" Katie asked, cocking her head slightly in a more serious tone. "This is the first time you've been together with all of them in a non-combat scenario since we were in school in Switzerland. Pardon me for observing this NOW, of all times, but you don't get on much with anyone but Dearka, and even then in small doses. If I remember right, you were ALWAYS in some sort of trouble or other at school, and Dearka was always egging you on from somewhere, or getting into some sort of trouble that he'd bring back to everyone. And now I know much better how you feel about Athrun, and we both have our issues with Kira. I could understand if you didn't feel comfortable here."

Ysak crossed in the front of the car and stood beside her, taking her hand in his as they both stared at the multi-story, several dozen room mansion in front of them. "I'm more uncomfortable because I feel like some sort of super-dignitary living in a palace like this place for any length of time. I don't shirk or shy from publicity mind, but... this is the CLYNE HOUSE, and the Princess is in residence. Along with "Athrun ZALA"! It's going to be a media madhouse." Ysak shook his head in anticipated pain. "But I've learned strategies for dealing with Athrun, and especially Dearka. The former is easy to avoid, as long as you aren't causing noisy problems. The latter is easily distracted by all sorts of stupid, transitory things. As for Kira... well, he's in everyone's doghouse right now. Again. I figure I'll let him make the first move, and take things from there. If he wants to play things nice, I'm sure not going to pick a fight with him."

"Oh, you could take him, I'm sure." Katie bumped up against him for a moment. "You've got all sorts of killer instincts. He's got "I don't kill" instincts. Really, no contest, don't you think?"

"Mmm." Ysak made a noncommittal noise. "I was actually going to ask you if YOU were comfortable being around everyone like this? Well, obviously, Alkire and Raine will be here sometimes, but despite their claims, they ARE still hurt and I'll imagine they won't want to be around eight "noisy teenagers" any more than they have to, right? You sure you won't go up the walls dealing with Lacus twenty four seven?"

"Oh? And what makes you think us girls have any troubles getting along at all?" Katie retorted with a smile. "Yeah, Lacus and I are pretty different in lifestyle and philosophic outlooks... but UNLIKE you silly guys, girls like us are GOOD at finding things we have in common to enjoy. Things like speculating about our guys, shopping, and probabaly loads of other things. I can talk guns and martial arts and sports with Cagalli, Miri and I can shop and gossip and do fashion stuff together, and Lacus and I still have reams of Newtype stuff to discuss, if nothing else. No, I'm certainly not going to be bored at all, no siree. And that's not even getting in to tormenting you, Ysak-y."

"Gee, and to think I was worried. Silly me." Ysak muttered, rolling his eyes. "No reception committee? What, has everyone killed themselves off ALREADY? I know we got here late, but I still thought it would take at least a day or two before we all stopped talking to each other out of frustration." They walked up the steps to the front door, which opened just as they reached the landing. A harried looking Lacus poked her head out, still fixing her hair with one hand. Ysak and Katie stared for a moment. Not that they'd never seen Lacus with her hair down, or even messy... just not at this time of day, and certainly not when she was almost certainly expecting plenty of guests and maybe even media attention, since that many cars arriving at the usually empty Clyne Mansion was sure to have been noticed by somebody. She looked almost... disheveled, as if she'd just been doing some heavy, sweaty work and hadn't had time to freshen up. Ysak and Katie eyed each other and smirked slightly, both having heard the rumors of the relationship "reformatting" Lacus and Kira had been "suffering" of late in juicy phone conversations with Dearka and Miriallia during the weeks prior.

"Oh, welcome to my house you two." Lacus caught the slight look Ysak and Katie were giving each other, and stopped messing with her hair. She felt a slight flush creep onto her cheeks. She didn't need to be an Active Newtype to figure out what they were thinking. "I'm sorry I didn't come out to welcome you earlier but..."

"But you were busy, right?" Katie replied, fighting for a straight face.

"Very busy, from the looks of it." Ysak commented, shaking his head and staring up at the sky.

"Well yes, but not like you're thinking!" Lacus was quick to insist. "We were having brunch while we waited for everyone to show up, but we had a bit of an... um... accident... about ten minutes ago. And we've all been cleaning it up since."

"I sense a pretty good story here." Katie said slyly. "What sort of accident are we talking about?"

"Why don't you come inside and get some drinks. Now that everyone is here, I wanted to hold a little sit down, to explain the house rules before I show everyone around to their rooms and give a tour of the grounds." Lacus half turned and ushered them inside, patting the wrinkles out of her summer dress as she herded them through the main foyer towards the main sitting room.

"Don't wanna talk about it huh? I can speculate then." Ysak smirked.

"You can, but you might want to be careful." Kira said, stepping around a corner as they passed, hooking his arm around Lacus's waist as he did so. "Everything is all fixed, Lacus. And I promise to try really, REALLY hard not to do that again. Now Dearka knows better too."

"Aha! Dearka was involved. Why am I not surprised?" Ysak muttered in an aside to Katie. "I wonder if Athrun..."

"And Athrun is fully conscious again. He ALSO knows better now." Kira added, almost malicous in his timing. "Though nobody will sit anywhere close to me for some reason."

"This I HAVE TO HEAR!" Katie stopped and turned around. She jabbed her hand out to poke Kira in the chest, in order to drive home her point. Well, that was the idea anyway. Somewhere between her jabbing out and her hand connecting, Kira's free hand snatched out in a blur, caught her by the wrist, twisted, turned and then pulled hard, disengaging her from Ysak and pulling her up short with her back to Kira and her arm bent painfully and tightly behind her back. It had happened so fast she couldn't even begin to fight back, at least physically. She was so startled by the unexpected physical contact that she drove a harder than usual mental thrust at Kira, kind of like a Beepcall where she would scream in his ear painfully. Lacus frowned a bit as she felt the effort, but Kira didn't even blink at her as her effort slid right off the mental barriers of his willpower, something which should NOT have occured.

Kira jerked his hand away from her like she had suddenly turned red hot. He half turned away and sidled away a step, registering the shocked look on her face and the surprised and slowly turning angry look on Ysak's. "Sorry about that. My reflexes have been getting away from me all morning today."

"What the HELL!?" Ysak blurted, as a physical confrontation started and ended before he could even figure out what was going on, much less actually do anything to intervene. And he'd felt the mental assault as well, though he sure as hell hadn't seen any reaction from Kira, not even a wince. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"He's not. That's the problem." Lacus cut in, her frown deepening. "And don't swear in the house. There are schoolchildren that come here sometimes, and media as well."

"Uh, what?" Ysak found his flash of anger derailed by Lacus's indignant rebuttal of his swearing.

"I'm... I'm not always in full control of my reflexes these days, is what she means, Ysak." Kira spoke up. "One of several side effects from... well, you know what happened to me. Sometimes I see threats in the most everyday things, and react without thinking about it. My instincts have been messed up pretty good, especially when it comes to people trying to touch me. It didn't help that Dearka was flicking pennies at my head as a joke. I know he didn't mean it to be hurtful, and I never should have told him I was having problems like this, but I didn't want it to catch anyone by surprise either. But I ended up judo tossing him onto the brunch table before I knew what was happening. Right into all the food and drinks. Athrun put a hand on my shoulder, to calm me down, I think... I think I really caught him by surprise when I put him into the arm bar and clocked him on the temple with my elbow along the way. I'm starting to regret James teaching me those defensive martial arts now... though maybe not, since if I didn't know what I was doing I'd probably have been lashing out a lot harder."

"You flipped Dearka head over ass onto a brunch table and then sucker punched Athrun and knocked him silly!?" Ysak exhaled suddenly, all at once. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but given what I've seen and heard, you might tear it off at the wrist. Good job!" Ysak grinned hugely. "I just wish I could have seen it!"

"Well, they weren't really EXPECTING me to attack them like that. I'm sure it won't happen again." Kira flushed, obviously wrong footed and embarassed by Ysak's cheery congratulations.

"FORGET THAT!" Katie blurted out. "How the HE... heck... did you you just shrug off my power? That should have put you on your knees, and NOT in a good way!"

"That is one of many, many things I just don't know the answer to, I'm afraid." Kira responded, at his most serious. "My body and mind have undergone a... well, a whole lot of changes recently. It's all everyone asks me about, but I just don't have any answers, beyond a few generalities."

"And despite what you may think, it's not all fun and games either. For both of us." Lacus added, more than a hint of weariness in her voice. "Believe me, you haven't seen anything strange yet... wait till we have dinner tonight." Clearly not wanting to have to explain themselves multiple times, Lacus and Kira didn't say any more, instead nearly pushing Katie and Ysak in front of them into the sitting room, where Athrun, Cagalli, Dearka and Miriallia were already waiting for them, sitting on a couch along one side of the room. Athrun was holding a cold towel to one side of his head, while Cagalli briefly glared daggers at Kira. Miriallia had scooted several inches away from Dearka, who was covered in tea stains, frosting smears and other detrius of brunch. Perhaps predictably, Miriallia didn't seem very perturbed at the recent manhandling of her lover... he had, after all, provoked it upon himself. Both Athrun and Dearka kept a wary eye on Kira as he walked by their couch, as if they half expected him to drag them onto the carpet for a second round of "involuntary reflexes".

Ysak and Katie took seats to the right of the couch, while Kira and Lacus sat across from everyone else. Ysak could not keep the amusement off his face at the condition of his two erstwhile teammates, and especially of the grim stare Cagalli kept focused on her brother. "Oh come on..." He couldn't resist needling. "... It's not like YOU haven't clobbered Athrun on the head by surprise before either, remember? It doesn't even look like your big, mean brother even drew blood, unlike some I could name."

"You're asking to get shown some of my own involuntary reflexes again, if you think you're being funny." Cagalli retorted. "As I recall, I took YOU out pretty squarely too."

"You say that like it's some sort of accomplishment." Katie cut in with a light grin. Much as she enjoyed Ysak being able to enjoy himself by poking fun at his friends, something which he didn't get to do very often, neither was she particularly looking for him to start a feud within the first hour of their shared vacation time. "Ysak-y is even more used to getting picked on by mean girls than Athrun is, remember? He folds like a paper doll, even when you DON'T smash a vase over his head."

"I feel like I had a vase smashed over my head." Dearka volunteered, rubbing the back of his head and neck gingerly.

"I said I was sorry. And I did warn you that sometimes I react differently to things than I used to." Kira replied defensively.

"Some people would have taken the hint when he flicked the pennies back at you without turning to look to see where they were coming from." Miriallia added, with zero pity in her voice. "Moving into close range was a stupid idea, even for you."

"I had to be sure it wasn't just a freak accident!" Dearka protested. "Besides... it's KIRA!"

"Are you convinced now?" Athrun asked, with a tight smile. "Because I am."

"If we could just let that go for the moment." Lacus not quite asked, anchoring the attention of everyone onto herself with a clearing of her throat. "First off, I'd like to welcome all of you to my house. From what I've heard so far, it sounds like we've all had... good times, by ourselves." Lacus blushed a little, given what "good times" meant these days. "And I hope that we'll all continue to be able to relax now that we're together again. However, before I give you all the run of the grounds, I wanted to go over some basic rules that everyone, even Kira and I, have to follow while we're here. My place is not a hotel or a frat house, for starters. I don't mind you all staying here, but I've no desire to discover myself hosting huge parties of people I don't know, at least without people asking me first."

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Dearka complained. "As if I would do something like that!"

"Lights out is at ten pm every day, unless we're all doing something together. After ten pm, I don't really care if you stay up all night talking or gaming or watching TV... but whatever you do, do it quietly. If I get woken up during the middle of my nights because some people can't be quiet and courteous to each other in my house, I can promise I'll make sure the parties in question regret it. Along with that is the no swearing rule. I don't care how you talk in the privacy of your rooms, or out on the street, but in the common areas of the house you will speak like there is always the possibility of a tour of gradeschoolers coming through the house, because there is. Also, this is an alcohol free house. Again, I don't care what you drink if you're out in town, or even if you come back tipsy, but I won't have any alcohol on the premises. The last thing I need is a media scandal about a bunch of drunken parties at my house."

"Again, everyone is looking at me." Dearka noted sourly. "I'm not the one who went to rave clubs though. Hello... I'm not an irresponsible party animal anymore, okay? I'm way more mature than I was in Switzerland."

"Thus why you flicked pennies at Kira's head in order to "see what he would do"?" Athrun asked, dryly. "What, is that a graduation from poking hibernating bears with sharp sticks or something?" He turned his gaze back to Lacus and Kira. "Jokes aside though, I can appreciate what you are getting at Lacus, but really, you're just asking us to follow common sense and decency, right? Not to be too blunt or anything, but of all of us, given what I've witnessed recently and perhaps more importantly what I've "heard about", its you and Kira who need to be getting a lecture on decent behavior around other people. I'm nowhere close to a Newtype, or even particularly empathetic, most times, and I'm still getting shivers whenever you and Kira look at each other, alright? I think I'm finally getting a handle on how Kira used to feel back in Switzerland, about Cagalli and me and our public displays of affection."

"Lacus isn't your sister though." Kira pointed out, somewhat sulkily.

"Close enough, given the fact that less than two years ago you didn't even know you had a sister, I'd say Lacus and I have at least as much a familial relationship as you and Cagalli do." Athrun replied, shaking his head at some memories of Lacus and him. "I'm not trying to get in your face about anything, understand. Just, try not to get into ours either, unless something happens where it becomes necessary, okay?"

"Yeah!" Dearka spoke up. "I mean, really, how much trouble could we actually get up to anyway? I mean, it's US!?" He gestured at Mir and himself. "And you!" Pointing at Kira and Lacus. "And THEM!" He swept his arms broadly at Katie, Ysak, Cagalli and Athrun. "And the scary and heavily bandaged adults upstairs who will probably cause more problems than the rest of us combined!" Dearka jabbed his hand dramatically but ambiguously at the ceiling, referring to Alkire, Raine, Waltfeld, Murre and Kisaka. "We're the freaking core leadership of the Clyne Faction! We're not going to go out and get hammered and tear up the town like a bunch of college students on spring break!" Dearka finished his self righteous proclaimation and saw that everyone was staring at him. "What!? I was being serious! WHAT!? Don't look at me like that!"

--

"Oh... my... god..." Dearka drawled out, leaning waaay back in the chair, so much so that if it weren't for one foot artfully hooked around the leg of the table in front of him he would have toppled over backwards long ago. "I am soooo bored right now, I can't even express it properly..."

"Sounds like someone needs something productive to fill his time with." Waltfled commented, sitting across the room at the mini-bar that fronted onto the recreation room from the secondary kitchen. It was raining outside, a real cloudburst too, complete with thunder and even a bit of lightning, which were uncommon in the heavily regulated PLANT climate. Still, there were a certain amount of natural processes that crept in over time, and so, rarely, about one time in a thousand, it rained without regard to the rain schedule. This rare occurence had resulted with all the people who were on the household grounds slowly gravitating to the rec room, with its wide picture windows that gave a magnificent view of the storm boiling over the lake outside. "It's only been a day and a half since you got here though. I would have thought making out with your girlfriend would have been enough to keep you entertained for that long by itself, but apparently my recollections of my late teenage years are outdated."

"No, Dearka is just that shallow, like a dry creek. He's the proverbial leaky bucket... no matter how often you fill him up, or what you fill him up with, he never stays full very long." Ysak threw in from a coffee table that had been moved right next to the window, so that the two people half hunched over it could concentrate on what they were doing while still taking in the evocative display of nature outside. Ysak reached forward as he spoke and moved a pawn forward, then sat back a bit, settling into a watchful pose as he waited for Athrun to make a return move. It was their fifth game of chess of the day, and so far they had each won twice, so Ysak felt justified in placing his concerns on winning this tiebreaker match in as efficient a manner as possible. For the sake of his own pride if nothing else. And for that matter, it did help pass the time, keeping him from becoming bored as well.

"Besides... we've all had weeks and weeks to do that sort of stuff without everyone else being around to make things awkward." Kira stared out at the storm, seemingly captivated by the dark grey clouds and whipping wind. "Well, all of us but you, Mr. Waltfeld."

"Stings like a bee, floats like a butterfly." Alkire commented from his seat on the couch, where he was browsing idly through a fashion magazine. "He got you pretty good on that one, Andrew. How's it feel, sleeping alone?" Of all of them, Alkire was the only one who wasn't, in some way, entranced by the storm outside. It was just a thunderstorm. Happened all the time. Just not on the PLANTS. Just like he always gaped and stared when he looked out some of the other windows and saw infinite space stretching away, only a kilometer or so away through the great glassy walls of the PLANT exterior, whereas to the kids and Waltfeld, that sort of thing was ho hum. "I hear you and Kisaka both made a bid for the goods... and got burned by a deceased man. That sucks to be you."

"You know, as funny as you think that is, I never hear you bring it up when Kisaka is around." Athrun commented, still considering Ysak's move. "Or Captain Ramius for that matter. Believe me, I understand the humor behind antagonising your friends over their failings... with friends like mine it would be impossible not to understand it... but this seems more like a dig directly at Mr. Waltfeld. You guy's having a tiff or something?"

"A tiff? A TIFF!?" Alkire retorted incredulously, slowly lowering his magazine to glare at the impudent kid. "A tiff is when your lover slaps you across the jaw because you're an insensitive jerk. You kids, and your respective girlfriends have tiffs. If I had a problem with Andrew, I'd settle it in a grownup fashion. Probably by shooting him in the head by surprise with my paintball gun one morning. No, the only reason I don't bring it up with Kisaka or Murrue around is for reasons of self preservation. Andrew I can poke fun at, because he can take it. Kisaka is less well natured, and far more capable of ruining my life if he actually took offense. And taunting Murrue, while entertaining, would only serve to unite you all against me, and I'm just a wounded Natural after all..."

"Everyone always brings that up in regards to you, Athrun." Kira noted. "About getting slapped by your girlfriend for being a jerk. I don't recall anything like that though."

"Good. At least one person isn't prying into my life then." Athrun muttured, moving a knight in position to endanger Ysak's bishop. "Its not like Cagalli's ever been afraid to let her feelings be known with her fists and feet anyway, you know. I don't see why everyone is so hung up on that one little incident. I've seen Miriallia punch Dearka in the chest many times, but nobody ever gives you any flak about that. And who KNOWS what Katie does to keep Ysak in line... we're probabaly all better off not knowing."

"Huh, you dread thinking about Katie... can you imagine my shivers when I consider how Lacus keeps lover-boy over there, with his new sex fixation, under wraps?" Ysak replied with a mock shiver.

"It's not a fixation! It's not something I can control!"

"Yeah, I told my parents that when I was fourteen and they caught me watching internet porn." Dearka snorted. "For some reason they didn't believe me, just like we don't believe you."

"You have to admit, Kira, it sometimes doesn't seem like you're trying very hard to "control yourself" as you put it." Waltfeld put in. He waited a few moments. "I mean, not that I, or any other sane Coordinator, in this room or out of it, can blame you. Were I seventeen again and in your situation, I'd probably have some control issues too."

"It's NOT LIKE THAT!" Kira insisted vehemently.

"Maybe it isn't, but when you get so embarassed about it, I can't help but think that it is." Dearka commented, smirking. "Believe me, my friend, nobody here, not even those pretend prudes over in the corner with their chessboard, is at all discomfited by the fact of what you and Lacus do in your room at night. We'd all be hypocrites if we were. But, at the risk of sounding like a fairy, your embarassment about the whole situation is adorably cute. Like something you'd find in one of those sappy romance-comedy manga's. Thus, our continued pleasure in harassing you about it."

"That does sound a little gay, you're right Dearka." Ysak agreed. "However, in principle, I have to agree. As I have learned to, both happily and less so, there is nothing as amusing as harassing your so called peers over their irrational sore points."

"Such as your inferiority complex regarding Athrun?"

"NOTHING OF THE SORT EXISTS!"

"Okay, okay... so you guys hammer me because Cagalli beats me up. We hammer Kira because he's turned into a pervy sex fiend. We hammer Waltfeld because he's unlucky in love. We hammer Dearka because... he's Dearka. We hammer Ysak because he's all bark and no bite on most serious issues. But what about Alkire?" Athrun asked, grinning at Ysak's furious denial.

"When constructing a false identity, he named himself Alkire Majesty. Voluntarily. What more do you need?" Waltfeld said witheringly.

"Says the man calling himself "The Desert Tiger". What sort of narcissistic personality disorder does THAT came from?"

"Yeah? And what does TEMPEST mean anyway? It sure as hell isn't an acronym, right? It doesn't mean anything, does it? It's just tempest, like the storm outside, but capitalized to make it look more important and weighty!"

"You put tiger stripes on your SWIMSUIT and your flightsuit!"

"You think you're freaking James Bond, with your cars and planes and trash!"

"Umm, there's no need to get so worked up..." Kira started to say, worried that a real confrontation was starting, since both men were now standing up, gesticulating and glaring at each other.

"Stay outta this, Mr. "I'm-embarassed-because-I-like-screwing-Lacus-Clyne-in-her-own-house"!" Alkire shot back, winking briefly at Waltfeld, turning his head so Kira and the other kids couldn't see. "I'll get to you after I finish taking out Mr. Kittycat here."

"Well, maybe you could just sit down, that might make the rest of us a bit more comfortable..." Athrun prompted, not so casually.

"You can butt out too, Mr. "She-likes-the-lingerie-white-to-show-the-blood."." Waltfeld cut him off.

"WHAT!? ATHRUN!?" Kira shouted.

"Ysak!" Athrun spun on the only possible source of that bit of misinformation.

"I didn't tell him! I tried to blot that memory out! Blame Katie!"

"Throws the girlfriend under the bus in under a second. That's gotta be a new record!" Dearka was gasping for breath, he was laughing so hard.

"Screw you! You have more experience throwing people under buses than ANYONE else here, Dearka!"

"What the hell is he talking about, Athrun!?"

"He's not talking about anything! It was a joke. A bad joke, thats all!"

"Suuurrreee it was. Naturally you'd say that now, especially since Kira cleaned your clock just a couple days ago."

"Shut the hell up, Dearka, are you TRYING to cause problems?"

"Is he ever not trying to cause problems?"

"You haven't helped matters either, Ysak."

"Don't get righteous with me, Zala, I don't have any pity for you. You dug this grave back in Orb. Its time for you to lie in it."

"It's because you support spousal abuse." Alkire commented dryly.

"WHAT!? How could anyone think that!?"

"Well, Cagalli does beat on you quite a bit. And you never complain. Do you want us to call a sheltered for abused husbands for you?"

"So, because Cagalli playfully punches me every now and again, I'm abused? And I support spousal abuse because I don't complain of it? What sort of twisted logic is that? How can I get in trouble for something like THAT!?"

"Well you do make jokes about red and white lingerie hiding or not hiding blood. What are we supposed to think?"

"I was making fun of YSAK and his misconceptions!"

"Well, even if we discard the punching thing, there is the issue of that perverted mouse toy you made. I hear you watched while it molested her." Waltfeld said, casually enough. "And we thought Kira was dirty." He shook his head slowly, as if in wonder.

"THAT'S NOT ANYTHING LIKE THE TRU..."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Zala. Say what you like. We got you pinned down and you know it. Now its just a question of who's going to beat the crap out of you first... Cagalli... or Kira."

"This was about YOU and ALKIRE getting into a fight... how did it turn on me!?"

"You left yourself vulnerable. Shouldn't have tried to hide or deny it, you know? Now you're just bleeding all over the place, and us sharks are circling in." Alkire pointed out. "You only have two options left. One, you can continue to ineffectually fight back, like you have been. Much to our continued amusement. Or, two, you can slash someone else, and hope the sharks are distracted by them enough for you to get away."

"Um..." Athrun's eyes darted around the room.

"No, I'm pretty sure he's sunk, actually." Kira cut in. "Oh, I'm not going to start anything physical. I have nothing to prove to myself by beating any of you into the carpet. I'm just going to add those little comments and incidents to this nice little log book I have. And one of these days, I'm going to sit down with you and Cagalli, Athrun. And we're going to discuss the things in that book, and see just what is real and what is a "joke"."

"What, are you supposed to be evil Kira now? You think that was scary? Come on, Kira... even if you've undergone some weird physical changes, you still have the soul of a pacifist. You're not going to start something with me, your oldest friend, over a spurious little rumor! Yes, Cagalli punches me, kicks me, tackles me, variously wrestles with me... but its all in fun. Thats how she is. She attacked you a couple times when you first met her too, if what she says is true. As for the lingerie comments... okay, I'm sorry. We don't do anything of the sort. I was messing with Ysak's head, you gotta believe me. And as for the mouse... that WAS AN ACCIDENT, that embarassed me, AS MUCH AS, if not MORE THAN, her!"

"It doesn't change the fact that you sat and watched a robotic mouse-vibrator you built with your own hands molest his sister, even for a little while."

"SHUT UP, DEARKA!"

"Wow, I haven't seen him turn that red in... ever. Might this be a bad time for me to mention that Katie has actually asked me to learn how you made that mouse. She wants a disguised vibrator to surrepitously molest Cagalli with too."

"Screw you guys." Athrun stormed away, shaking his head. Silence reigned for several moments after he left.

"Ahh... that felt good. I feel MUCH better now." Ysak commented, with a smug grin. "I actually got to see Athrun forced to flee a room because he was so pissed off and embarassed. My life is one step closer to completion."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Ysak. Because you're next on the chopping block, in my opinion. Its always a good idea to eliminate the weak fish first." Alkire spoke up, casually enough.

"What do you mean..."

"Well, I wasn't going to interrupt the tag team on Athrun, but I happened to hear this interesting little story. Something about an imaginary friend...?"

"No... there's NO WAY you could know that...! Damn it, KATIE!!"

"Imaginary friend eh... tell me more... I could have sworn I was the only friend he'd ever had when I first met him..."

"This is hell..."

--

"You know, looking out at this freak storm, I'm suddenly wondering... what the heck are our poor, lonely, helpless guys doing right now, while we're all out having a great time shopping and all?" Miriallia asked, her attention momentarily caught looking out one of the exterior windows of the mall at the downpour outside. Not that a rainstorm was particularly new or special to her... Orb even had Cyclones sometimes after all... but she reminded herself that, despite most appearances, they were in the middle of a SPACE STATION, where sudden adverse weather conditions were FAR less common. Indeed, the greater majority of the Coordinators around them were usually clustered around exterior windows, or at least within sight of them, oohing and aahing at the lightning display, and flinching in time to the rumbling thunder, like it was a once in a lifetime event or something. People had video recorders out, were calling people on other cities on their cell phones... it was a gala event, this thunderstorm.

"Guy things, most likely." Katie replied, before turning back to her mutual introspection of a series of sport shorts with Cagalli.

"Well, yeah, durh. But what does "guy things" entail? Does any of us actually have any idea what our guys get up to while we're not around?"

"Athrun works on his Mobile Suit a lot."

"So does Ysak."

Miriallia rolled her eyes. "No, not PILOT things... GUY things. Normal guy things. Dearka reads a lot of comic books for instance, and watches many action movies with bad plots and abundances of sexier than strictly believable women in them."

"When it comes to Ysak, pilot things and guy things are pretty closely entwined. He's very monofocused at times."

"Athrun likes making things with his hands. Like Zim." Cagalli pointed one finger absently at the small blob of white synthetic fur perched on top of her head, apparently napping, for the moment.

"Why did you name him Zim again? Not that it's a bad name... its cute, really. But I just don't see where Zim comes from."

"Cartoon show I watched once when I was way younger had a character named Zim. He was an alien, I think, living on Earth in disguise as a pet or something, plotting to take over the Earth."

"So you have a vibrator mouse named Zim, after an alien that's trying to take over the Earth while disguised as a family pet? Okay. Weird, but okay."

"He's just a mouse! He PURRS. Not vibrates. I only thought of a vibrator because of THAT specific incidence! Which won't happen ever again, now that I've named him!"

"Unless you want it to, that is."

"Katie, WHY would I WANT to go through THAT again?"

"I dunno. No offense, but, given how you described it... it sounded kinda hot. Damsel in distress scenario, with a whole new twist."

"Get thoughts like THAT out of your mind! I don't want them leaking over into Ysak's mind! He'd use them to make problems for Athrun."

"It really doesn't work like that..." Katie considered another few articles of clothing. "Besides, he already knows the basic story... how much more embarassed can he make him?"

"You told him!? I told you in confidence!"

"Um... I kinda told... Dearka... too. So its a moot point."

"Mir!"

"What? It was FUNNY. And I made him promise to keep it between us."

"And we all know what promises like THAT are worth coming from Dearka! Regardless of how much a white knight you paint him as, romantically speaking, when it comes to juicy gossip, he's worse than the three of us combined! Oh god, I should go home and make sure Athrun hasn't locked himself in our room or something."

"Why would Athrun be doing that now?" Lacus asked, having returned from "her" section of the apparel store.

"Lacus, you didn't tell Kira about the mouse incident, did you?"

"No. I figured he might not see the humurous side of it. He does have a history of not seeing the lighter side of things when it comes to you and Athrun."

"Well, at least ONE person can be relied on here."

"Oh, be quiet. It isn't like we haven't all given you plenty of juicy tidbits to hand out to your guy so he can make problems for ours too, you know." Katie retorted. She looked at the bundle of clothing in Lacus's arms. "Geez, going to a formal symphony sometime, Lacus? I hadn't heard of any."

"What do you mean? These are just normal clothes."

The other three girls exchanged glances. "And that is why, no offense Lacus, we three shop in this part of the store, and you always go off to a different part of the store."

Lacus flipped through the dresses, kimonos, gowns and other large, mostly one piece garments, most in bright pastel colors, usually made of silk or other lightweight synthetic look alikes. "I don't see what's wrong with them. I wear clothes like this all the time."

"Yes, you do. And given that you're Lacus Clyne, I'm sure it sets all sorts of fashion trends amongst the well to do upper class." Miriallia replied. She pointed to a garment at random, a fanciful sky blue colored kimono with pink and yellow flower patterns embroidered on it. "See... that's a really pretty kimono. It looks something like the one I wore to my junior prom. Probably costs about the same as that one too. However, what is for me, clothing only worn on extremely formal occassions, is for you, everyday clothing. And it's not just expense either... I just wouldn't feel comfortable wearing clothing like that all the time."

"And it can stay the hell away from me." Cagalli jumped in, with a not entirely faked shiver. "The only way you'd ever get me into something like that is because of political necessity."

"Kira said he saw you in a dress once. When you were in the desert that one time. He said you looked really good in it." Lacus pointed out.

"What Kira said is "Oh... you're a girl". Just like that."

"What's wrong with that?"

"He sounded SURPRISED! Like it was something he'd JUST NOTICED, like he couldn't tell if I was a girl or not unless I was in a dress!"

"Well... fortunately Athrun doesn't seem to have that problem." Miriallia commented, fighting an attack of the giggles.

"Yeah... he tried to make up for it when I got in his face by saying "No... I mean, it reminds me AGAIN that you're a girl", which is pretty much the same thing as saying "oops, I forgot you were a girl, cause you don't look like one". God, I almost punched him out right then and there, Andrew Waltfeld watching or not! He's never had ANY trouble recognizing Lacus as female! Why just me!?"

"Well... maybe it's because I wear feminine clothing. Wouldn't kill you to wear a skirt every now and again. Miri and Katie still wear skirts occasionally."

"More in private than in public. Ysak likes the skirts, he does."

"God, could you keep it down to a low roar, perv?"

"Nothing pervy about liking girls in skirts."

"The way you say it, there has to be something illicit going on."

"Ysak likes playing dress up. Both with me, and with him. He's probably got what it takes to be a pretty successful fashion designer, if he wanted to apply himself. You should hear what he has to say about how he would have done the ZAFT uniforms entirely differently. And to me, anyway, his changes make sense."

"Dress up? Pfft. Does he play with dolls too?" Cagalli chuckled.

"Probably not. Dearka does though. Except he calls them "action figures" or "action models". He's got quite a large collection of them in his room at his father's house. A bewilderingly large collection, to be honest. They each have individual names, if you can believe it."

"What about you, Lacus? What can you tell us about a silly hobby of Kira's? My brother is so loosely wired, there's gotta be a plethora of strange stuff he does."

"Umm... he likes reading. Technological and computer related stuff mostly. Lots of math and science. Most of it way over my head."

"Stop the bus. Alright, new note... new reason to beat the crap out of Kira, disregarding ALL other such reasons. Must beat the geek out of him before it's too late. Who knows how long it's going to be before he gets addicted to some widely distributed internet RPG or something like that, and then we'll never see him again."

"Well, if you don't like that, nowadays he likes building stuff with his hands. Not robots or anything, but actual construction and furniture type work. I'll admit, his first few attempts at building a chair were... entertaining... especially given that even I can put together a wooden chair by following the directions, but he learns SO FAST that you can't even tell he hasn't been doing this his whole life now. Even on the first two chairs, I quite literally never saw him make the same mistake twice. You know, now that I think about it, what Kira seems to be spending most of his free time away from me or other people doing is just plain learning how to do stuff. He picks a different subject every couple days and pursues it until he's satisfied with his knowledge of it, then goes on to something else. I can't even keep track of all the subjects he's been going over... its all sorts of stuff, from technological manuals to literary fiction. I mean, I'm glad he's found something to channel all his newfound energy into... but its like the food... where's he PUTTING it all?"

"Yeah, I have to say, that food thing is totally unfair. I really have to watch what I eat, and exercise a lot, to keep my weight and figure where I want them." Miriallia pouted. "I wish I could just pig out on anything and everything, consume a couple thousand calories in a sitting, then do it again a few hours later with no adverse bodily effects. It's a freaking olympic level metabolism... during olympic level competition... and he's just sitting around the house!"

"Its never really been a problem for me. Of course, I am pretty active. It would be nice though, you're right. Think of all the cookie dough ice cream and caramel syrup I could have... wow." Cagalli muttered, somewhat dreamily.

"Same here. Minus the ice cream ravings." Katie added. "I dunno, it might be sorta annoying, having to eat so much all the time. I take it it isn't very pretty if he tries to starve himself, or confine himself to regular portions?"

"That would be right." Lacus hugged herself slightly. "He only tried it once. I thought he'd turned into a Vampire or something. Sunlight certainly did seem to be shriveling him up. It might have just been lack of fuel though. It does give me concerns for the future... I'm going to have quintuple our grocery budget, at least."

"Yeah, well, that much more incentive to tell him to get out of the house, away from all the books, and working a good, productive, very well paying job."

"Well, I can support us just fine, you know. I am an international level pop singer, remember, even if I haven't been able to record an album recently. I don't think my fans blame me for that though."

"Lacus, no offense, but if my brother lets you be the sole source of income for the two of you, I'm going to tear his balls off, tie an apron around him and chain him in your kitchen, because thats ALL he'll be good for!"

"Wow, now THAT'S a PC image right there." Mirialla almost choked on her laughter.

"I'm a girl. I can say things like that without having to worry about PC."

"Are you sure you're not being a little hypocritical though... I mean, technically speaking, you're the major income source in your couple, you know? Athrun may "work", but he "works" for you, so I don't think that should count." Katie pointed out. "Does that mean we should castrate him, garb him as a woman and tell him to get in the kitchen too?"

Cagalli sighed heavily. "Sometimes, I feel like it would just make everything so much easier if I could just mold him into whatever I wanted. Why did I... why did all of us, for that matter, have to get such high maintenance guys anyway? I mean, seriously, these people are HELPLESS when it comes to real life. Without us, they'd be doomed in a matter of months. Like kittens, or puppies, abandoned on the street."

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but, like kittens or puppies abandoned on the street, I have the feeling our helpless little guys might be willingly and even fervently sought out by other girls and perhaps even guys, more than happy to nuture and care for them if we won't." Miriallia replied. "I mean, let's face it... except for Lacus, we're all lovers with some of the most publicly famous Coordinators of our generation. Certainly the most eligible potential bachelors. Sons of Supreme Council members. ZAFT Redcoats. Gundam Pilots. Independently wealthy in some cases. And even Kira has a following these days... maybe only among the Mobile Suit corps of ZAFT, Orb and the Alliance, but you mention the name Kira Yamato on a military base and someone will know who you're talking about, no doubt about it."

"Its almost funny you should say that, Cagalli." Lacus said slowly, as they migrated towards the check out lines. "Well, no, it isn't actually. Because for a while there, I was pretty sure that I could mold Kira into whatever I wanted. I was afraid I might already have been doing it. We all know what I did to Sai and his bodyguards... I could have done a lot worse to Kira with that level of effort. I don't even know how much worse. And if you do know, Katie, please never tell me. Thankfully, despite whatever Frost did to him... or perhaps even because of it... I don't have to worry about that anymore. It's a strain, at times, to even contact him when he doesn't want me to. It makes some things harder... but I'm glad. We've had our differences and arguements... but I don't think I could have lived with myself if I'd really forcibly changed Kira into someone he wasn't trying to be."

"Geez... serious! I thought we were supposed to be going out to RELAX and have FUN!?" Katie protested. "You know, cut the guys loose on each other while we banded together, so that we can be assured of having all sorts of ruffled male ego to soothe when we get back?"

"Um, what? Wait... you're getting something from Ysak, aren't you? What happened?" Cagalli demanded.

"Oh... not much. Lets just say that you aren't the only one who has a partner who locks themselves in their room when they get flustered. From what I gather, its going to take some serious peace negotiations to get anyone but Uncle Alkire, Mr. Kisaka, and Mr. Waltfeld talking civilly together tonight."

"Oh no... already? It's only been a couple hours..."

"Just think of it as practice for when you have kids." Katie paused a moment,and looked guiltily at Miriallia. "Um, sorry. That slipped out."

"Don't worry about it too much. It's not like I was hoping to get pregnant in the next four or five years anyway. And who knows what sort of medical advances there will be in that time? I refuse to be any more depressed about it than absolutely necessary. Have you guys broached the topic with your guys?"

"I think I'll save it until after the war. I don't need any more stress."

"That sounds like a really, really good idea, Lacus."

"I agree."

"Well, then, verbal catastrophe averted, lets check out and go home. White knightesses to the rescue and all that. I don't suppose I could get a transcript of what they said to Dearka, could I?"

"Why? So you know what to soothe?"

"No. So I know what works to rile him up in the future."

--

Kira's eyes snapped open, and he glanced around the room alertly. Still pitch dark. The digital clock on his bedside table told him it was just a few minutes before "dawn", though, because of the continuous, 24 hour a day sunlight in the PLANTS, that was much more an ambiguously assigned time of the day than any meaningful event. Dawn in Aprilius was at 5:30 am, and most government offices required their workers to be in before dawn. Thankfully, he didn't work for the PLANT government, so he usually slept till six or later. Slept was perhaps too strong a term... he was finding that he was sleeping less and less as time went by. It wasn't to say he didn't NEED sleep... he just needed much less of it to be refreshed. So he'd sleep deeply for the three or four hours that he required it, and then just sort of nap, or doze or meditate for another four to six hours while he waited for Lacus to finish sleeping. She got very irritated when he left the bed to go do other things while she was still asleep... if for no other reason that because when he was awake and active, it was hard for her to sleep.

Kira carefully adjusted his end of his connection to Lacus, as much as he could anyway, to help mute the increased levels of mental activity now that he was awake. He wasn't entirely sure HOW he was doing it... it was almost instinctual really, and unsettling for that reason... but at length he was satisfied that he'd damped himself down as much as possible, so that unless he got agitated or upset, he wouldn't suddenly wake her with his thoughts. She'd be waking up in about thirty minutes if he didn't get back to bed... saying she was sensitive to his presence or lack of it was quite possibly the understatement of the year, even while she was asleep, so he hoped that whatever slight disturbance had woken him from his meditative thoughts could be resolved sooner than that. He didn't see why not... all sorts of things set him off these days, ranging from a lost kite string slapping against a window to Dearka accidentally getting pushed out of bed in the downstairs guest bedroom one night. With any luck, he'd be back in a matter of minutes.

Kira cautiously sat up in bad and edged away from the warm, mutual indentation in the center, where he and Lacus tended to congregate during the night... there was no "her side" or "his side" of the bed. There was an edge on either side of the bed, and then there was the warm spot in the middle. He paused a moment, looking down at her, with her gloriously long pink hair spread out all over the pillows and sheets and her face relaxed and totally at peace. It was a good image. A special one. He wished he had a camera for it, really, but moments like this were impossible to capture with a camera. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, but he didn't dare... she sometimes woke up just from the INTENT of such actions, much less the actual act. He eased out of the bed and slipped on a bathrobe over his shirt and shorts, then put on a pair of house slippers. With a final look back at the vision lying in their bed, with her signature pink Haro lying like a carelessly discarded ball just to the outside edge of her head, Kira padded out of the door and headed downstairs.

It didn't take him long at all to discover at least one cause for his wakefulness. Someone had opened one of the doors leading into the bark yard and garden area. The possibility of a burglar was so remote it was laughable, and besides, Kira would have almost relished coming upon an intruder, at least these days. Give him something to burn a little of the constantly building energy inside himself off on. It only took him a couple of steps outside to discover that, just like he'd expected, there was no intruder. If anything, it was an extruder. He was looking at Alkire and Waltfeld, both crouched behind a medium sized bush about ten feet from the door, huddled together and seemingly peering out into the rest of the yard. Alkire had a long, odd looking metal and plastic contraption leaning against him, and it took Kira several seconds to realize it was Raine's paintball gun, the one that was supposedly for "sniping". Waltfeld appeared to be carrying a video camera and a scope of some sort. Confused, Kira watched them both for a moment, wondering what the hell they were doing.

Even as he watched, Alkire took up the paintball gun with slow, measured movements. The paintball hopper itself was missing, leaving only a short tube on top of the gun for ammunition to be placed inside. Into that hole, Alkire dextrously placed a largish ball made of what looked like hardened plaster or perhaps clay. He then put the gun to his shoulder in a pose that Kira recognized as a man sighting in on a distant target. Alkire held the pose for several seconds. Kira was just about to ask them what the hell they thought they were doing when Alkire pulled the trigger. The paintball gun made a sort of hollow "cth-thunk!" noise. Alkire swore under his breath.

"Grazed it. Marked him good, but definitely not a kill shot. My turn." Waltfeld muttured.

"Damn thing turned at the last moment. I had him cold otherwise."

"Well, bring it up to the maker next time. Tell him to make them more predictable if you're having trouble, sahib."

"Why the hell are you calling me "sahib" anyway?" Alkire grumbled as he and Waltfeld switched equipment.

"Because it bugs you, sahib. And its funnily appropriate, though I'm not sure why exactly."

"What the HECK are you guys doing?" Kira could not contain himself any longer. The other two men jumped slightly, obviously having had no idea they were being watched. They both spun on their haunches and almost overbalanced.

"Oh damn, it's the kid. We're sussed." Alkire commented.

"Maybe not. Maybe not. He was watching us for a while there, I think. We might have found our third party actually." Waltfeld refuted. "Come here, Kira. And try and keep an open mind, okay? This isn't just a random act, okay? We've BOTH been pushed to this course of action during our short time here."

"Um. What are you guys doing?" Kira shook his head, but he walked over to where the two men were crouched.

"Shh! Not so loud. They'll hear you. And get down, would you! You wanna attract their attention or something?" Waltfeld hissed.

"Attract who's attention?" Kira asked, deciding to humor them.

"Our arch nemesises. Here, take the scope. Look down range... I mean, into the yard. Over by the dock and its balcony. They're not hard to spot... nature, for whatever reason, did not evolve them with natural camouflage abilities or any other defensive mechanism besides the urge to flock." Alkire replied.

"I don't see anything but a bunch of Haro's."

"EXACTLY THEM! Good job, you figured it out!" Alkire took the scope back. "All right, all right... let's see... ah, there we go. Dark Green. I make it at eighty three yards. It's the highest one up of them all. Bonus points if it falls in the water."

"I see it. Yeah. Cocky little bastard, isn't it? I'll teach you to stand out from the herd." Waltfeld took another ball of what Kira could now see was fire hardened clay from a basket containing several dozen more such objects. Kira noticed that there were letters... words and phrases actually... etched into the surface of the clay. While Waltfeld loaded the gun, Kira picked up one of the other balls and studied it.

"Burn in Hell, you damned machine?" Kira read, incredulously. He turned the ball over. "Payback is a Stone Bitch?" He read the other side. "What did the Haro's ever do to you guys that warrents this level of animosity?"

"What did they do? What did they DO? EVERYTHING! They're EVERYWHERE! Under your feet, in your closets, in the bath tub, in the kitched cupboards, hell even in the fucking refrigerator sometimes. I can't open ANYTHING in this house without one of the little buggers jumping out at me and scaring the shit from my body! It's probably just a coincidence, but at times, Haro's look disconcertingly like certain forms of anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines... some of which ALSO jump at you without warning with little incomprehensible electronic noises. Needless to say, I have something close to two or three near heart attacks A DAY because of these bastards. Not to mention what it's like when a herd of em latches onto you and won't leave you in peace for hours on end. No, these little bastards have had this coming to them for a while now. Isn't that right, Andrew?"

"Entirely, sahib. They almost dragged away my arm covering one time, you know? Those things aren't cheap! And they invade my bedchamber constantly, at any and all hours of the night! Apparently... someone, whom I won't name... made a programming change to them and so they avoid any bedroom with more than one person asleep in it. I can understand why that someone may have made such a change... believe me, after having more than three score of them congregating in my room and sharing my bed with me, I VERY MUCH understand why a certain someone would want them OUT of his intimate life. You can tell a dog no. You can put a cat outside. Haro's cannot be deterred peacefully. Thus, we are forced to retaliate in kind." Waltfeld sighted in on the target, let half his breath out and then pulled the trigger evenly.

Even at this distance, and without the aid of the scope, Kira could both hear the harsh "CRACK" of impact as the clay ball struck the dark green Haro full on and see the explosion of white powder as the clay ball disintegrated from the impact. The force of the shot blasted the Haro backward with a surprised squeal of static that dopplered away as the Haro dropped out of sight off the balcony into the boat slip directly beneath. Waltfeld pumped his fist in a short gesture of victory. "One down. Sixty four to go."

"Did that break it?" Kira asked, wide eyed.

"Unlikely, I'm sad to say." Alkire replied, searching the mob for the next target to pick off. "The clay ammunition is harder than a paintball, certainly, but it fragments too easily to really damage the plastic shells. Maybe a ding or dent, but thats all. Hell, even if it did penetrate, those things are mostly air inside anyway... unless you crush them or get lucky and hit the central chip, they're actually pretty durable. Good design on Athrun's part. He just never should have mass produced the bastards."

"But Lacus adores them." Kira pointed out.

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes."

"She's NOT going to be happy if she finds out you're doing this."

"Well, I'm not going to tell her. And neither is Andrew. Guess that leaves the burden of guilt on you, Kira. Just by watching that one shot, you're already an accomplice. Do you want to take a shot too? I bet you got some serious loathing for these things built up somewhere in that pristine chapel you call a soul." Alkire replied. "Three o'clock. Orange. Or is that Sienna? Whatever. Bouncing low along the ground. Looks like it's chasing vermin or something. Range seems to be varying between seventy and ninety yards."

"I should be stopping this. Lacus will be really upset with me... with all of us... if she finds out you're hunting her Haro's!" Kira protested... but all the same, there was an element of truth to what Alkire had said. He didn't HATE the Haro's... but he couldn't find it in himself to just up and rat the two men out either. Especially because it wasn't like they were actually destroying the robots, just harassing them. "Um, I think I'll pass on taking a shot."

"But you're not going to turn us in, are you?"

"Well, you aren't breaking them..."

"Attaboy, Kira. I knew you'd see it our way."

--

Martin Dicosta was exhausted. Despite that, and the physical discomfort of his aching eyes, he took another folder off the top of the pile of similar folders on his kitchen table. This was going to be his last one, he promised himself. It was past midnight after all, and this wasn't even work he was doing for his job. It wasn't easy, serving in the regular military while also being the chief of information collection for the Clyne Faction. Well, technically, Commander Waltfeld was the intelligence director, but Dicosta was the sorry bastard who ended up doing most of the legwork. He didn't mind most of the time... he was good at this sort of stuff after all, and he really hated being in the limelight. To be honest, he loved his job, even with the long hours and aching eyes and lack of real public recognition for his work. He was really, actually making a difference, and that was enough for him. Though he was also looking forward to collecting on this months shipment of coffee, made personally and privately for him by none other than Andrew Waltfeld himself as recompense for the late hours, with more than the usual degree of anticipation. He'd been getting a whole lot of nothing, and by a whole lot he meant thousands and thousands of carefully perused pages of nothing.

Like the greater majority of documents that crossed his improvised desk-kitchen table, this folder was a plain manila color, with a small tag on the top that had the label filled in by whichever agent had copied, stolen or discovered the information before passing it on to him. Sometimes the label was relevant to whatever the material was, oft times it was just a serial number or word or two that the agent in question used to differentiate between which bundles of information they were giving him. This particular folder had the words "Angry Sky" written on the label. Dicosta wondered what the agent had in mind when they wrote the label... it seemed somehow more evocative or meaningful than usual. He flipped the folder open and groaned inwardly. It was a technical document. Technical documets were always dry and mind numbing and boring. It was a good thing this was his last folder of the night, because he was already sure that he'd be reading himself into a near coma with this stuff.

Forty minutes later he was on the phone with Commander Waltfeld, all feelings of exhaustion and aching eyes banished, the technical documents spread out all over his table and the kitchen floor. This was seriously bad news. Quite how they had only gotten wind of something this HUGE now was beyond him. He felt a chill creep up and down his spine as he explained what he'd found to his boss. He never would have thought the PLANTS, that ZAFT would go this far. He hadn't realized that the corner they were in was so tight, that a response like this had been approved. All he knew was that unless something was done about it, Earth was going to find out just how angry the sky could get.

--

"All right, Mr. Waltfeld... WHAT THE HELL is so important that you had to call us all together for a meeting at one thirty in the morning!? I don't know about anyone else, but I DO STUFF with my days and I'm pretty TIRED right now!" Ysak stormed. "This had better not be another one of your cockamamie lectures or practical jokes, because I am HEARTILY sick of your so called "morale raising functions"." There was a general murmur of agreement, even from people like Kisaka, who, cladin his nightclothes, looked something like a bear roused directly from hibernation that was none too happy about it. Waltfeld's reply shut everyone up.

"Oh, sorry to bother you, Mr. Joule. It's nothing more than THE END OF THE FUCKING EARTH AS WE KNOW IT!? IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH?! HUH!? IS IT!?" Waltfeld snapped. He was tired too. Usually Dicosta called him in the midmorning to do the intelligence briefs. However, he definitely understood the breach in protocol for this bombshell. This was total top priority, abandon everything else to deal with it sort of news.

"Uhm... yeah..." Ysak sat back, much subdued, since Waltfeld really didn't yell or get in people's faces very much. "Sorry?"

"It's not your fault. I'm a little stressed out right now. Hell, make that at LEAST as stressed out as I was during the attack on the GENESIS. Yes, that's the STARTING POINT, ladies and gentlemen. That's the level of situation we're in here. Vacation is OFFICIALLY OVER, as of NOW! We are in an emergency scramble now." Waltfeld growled, wondering just where he was going to start. This was such a fucking HUGE mess... talk about a nearly eleventh hour warning... they had less than a week to figure out what to do. Much less than a week to figure out what to do and actually DO something.

"Well, why don't you start from the beginning, if you would, Andrew?" Murrue advised. "Obviously you've discovered something important here."

"Just a little, thanks Murrue." Waltfeld forced himself to remain calm. "In a little more than one hundred and ten hours... thats four and half days and some change... ZAFT will begin a new combat operation. The final combat operation of the war, one way or another. This is really, truly the PLANTS last gasp effort to defeat the Isolationists. Denied its terrestrial holdings, especially coming in the wake of the disaster at the Moon, ZAFT has almost no reserves left. By the same token though, their logistical problems are almost nonexistant... pretty much all the military can be supplied directly from the PLANTS now, and for an extended operating time of at least a month more. Of course, most of PLANT society will have broken down by then because of food riots, but, if their plan is successful, those riots will never come to pass. It's now just Earth in one corner of the ring, and ZAFT in the other, with no forces on either side in the way of a full out, WMD attack."

"ZAFT's ultimate recourse is called Operation Overload. On paper, it's completely suicidal. ZAFT will split its remaining forces into twenty seperate fleets, which will burn for high geo synch orbits over Earth with all haste, eighty six hours and some minutes from now. Naturally, Isolation forces will respond to the presence of these ZAFT fleets, fearing orbital bombardment or perhaps even surgical ground strikes. Indeed, some forces will be descending to Earth, in the largest coordinated orbital drop assault since JOSH-A. However, unlike JOSH-A, where the forces from all over the world were concentrated into one mighty hammer blow, Operation Overload will have twenty different forces descending on twenty different parts of the globe. It is the job of the orbiting fleets and descending Mobile Suit and infantry forces to occupy and delay the Isolationist response for as long as possible... retreat is not listed amongst ANY of the command options for the escort forces."

"It doesn't make any sense... why split the forces and then fight a war of attrition? Why fight a war of attrition at all? The Alliance... the Isolationists have ALL the advantages in that sort of situation!" Ysak protested. "They'll be only too happy to engage ZAFT in that kind of scenario... it's like we're offering them our military, gift wrapped with a nice pink bow!"

"That is where the WMD's come in. The majority of the Isolationist forces will be grouped at those twenty points..." Waltfeld began.

"They're going to nuke them? That doesn't seem feasible. Even if ZAFT could assuredly wipe out all the forces opposing them at each point, it wouldn't change anything in the terms of the situation for the PLANTS. A baiting action, even with nuclear backup, is pointless!" Athrun objected.

"Let me finish please, but yes, you're right about that!" Waltfeld retorted. "At each one of those twenty points, a special warhead will be deployed by the ground forces. These warheads have been given the codename of "Angry Sky". They're very complex, but its really just an upscaling of a previous ZAFT special weapon. The Angry Sky warheads are little more than multiple gigaton category Gugnir EMP bombs." Waltfeld let that sink in for a moment. "By way of comparison, the Gugnir's used to disable Porta Panama during the First Valentine War were rated at roughly four kilotons each. Each Angry Sky warhead is twenty gigatons. In case your math skills are lacking, that means the Angry Sky warheads are five MILLION times more powerful than the original Gugnirs. Also, there are TWENTY of them, although according to ZAFT's calculations, blanket coverage is assured by only twelve of the devices."

"Blanket... coverage?" Dearka asked, slowly.

"World wide blanket EMP coverage, yes. Powerful enough to utterly ignore any form of shielding known to man. In a phrase... "lights out"... permanently. Anything that uses electrical power or computer chips will either be destroyed by feedback or be completely wiped clean of all stored data, irrecoverably. In this day and age, that means basically everything above the level of bicycles will be useless. Not only that, but anything relying on computer chips for production purposes... such as, I don't know... ALL INDUSTRY... will be inert and useless. In a matter of seconds, Earth will go from being in the post information age back into the tool age, at least until people figure out how to smelt metals by hand again and they progress back into the iron age. All records, whether they be medical, financial, political, educational... ANYTHING stored on data disks or in computer files... it's all going to go away at once. There won't be any backups besides paper, and most paper records are hopelessly out of date. Cars won't run. Planes won't fly. Power plants will shut down, regardless of whether they are nuclear powered or not. Food, water, sanitation, heating, medical care... ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that makes the modern world the modern world will cease functioning. Of course this includes all ground based forces of the Isolation and ZAFT... but its a much, MUCH bigger loss for the Isolation."

"The EMP waves are more than powerful enough to reach orbit, but they will be contained by the Earth's magnetosphere, thus limiting the damage to Earth and Earth alone. Once the bombs go off, all ZAFT has to do is wait a day or so for everyone to realize what happened, then descend to Earth and begin gathering food supplies for the PLANTS. Since they'll be the only ones with any sort of operational military capacity, no one will be able to stop them. The lunar forces will be utterly cut off from their main supplier of parts and food, not to mention the higher chain of command. It's anyone's guess really, but I'd say it'd be at least a year or two before someone on Earth puts together a broadcaster capable of reaching the Moon through all the electromagnetic backwash that's going to be bouncing around in the upper atmosphere for decades afterwards. In the time granted to them while Earth basically rebuilds itself and its technologies from the ground up, the PLANTS and ZAFT will be able to establish footholds and a technological edge that will ensure that they will be the dominant superpower in the solar system for the conceivable future."

"What sort of death toll are we looking at here?" Alkire asked.

"The EMP bombs themselves actually have fairly little effect on the human body... it wouldn't be good to be within about a mile of one going off, but they're all going to be set up in remote locations to make attacking them harder, so that shouldn't be an issue. The blanket coverage will probably cause a few hundred thousand casulaties initially, from crashes, planes falling out of the sky, medical services going away, etc. After that, with civilization as we know it basically destroyed, who can tell what the rioting and disorder will be like... I'd imagine we'll be seeing a lot of cities looking like they've just gone through Purgatory Day by the time things calm down in any real fashion. I'll throw out a number and say maybe a hundred million deaths because of the bombs, all told. For a weapon that affects the entire Earth, that's merciful, I guess." Waltfeld almost spat in disgust, but remembered that he was inside Lacus's house at the last moment.

"Well, its obvious we can't let them do it, isn't it?" Kira spoke up. "I understand that ZAFT and the PLANTS are backed into a corner, but this... this is NOT the right answer."

"What are the odds of this being pulled off successfully, do you think, Andrew?" Kisaka asked.

"I'd say pretty damn high. They've included an extra 67 percent redundancy in their ordnance, and even if the full twelve don't go off, that still means anywhere from half to three quarters or more of the world goes tribal again anyway. Hell, ONE, going off and covering the AF would be enough to give ZAFT the breathing room they need. At least enough to hopefully bring the Isolationists to the bargaining table. Taking out a major political-economic bloc with a single bomb should be enough to get ANYONE, even Sai at his most pig headed, to sit up and take notice that ZAFT is done screwing around with standard warfare. Sending twenty of these Angry Sky warheads is OVERKILL. Like using a Gundam to step on a rabid weasel. Somebody... likely somebodies... up at the top of the chain of command must have been having a pretty major panic attack when they approved this abomination of a plan!"

"Not to mention that it's a completely indiscriminate weapon!" Cagalli shouted. "Orb never did a damn thing to the PLANTS... we did all we could to HELP the PLANTS! And those bombs are going to destroy MY nation too! How could they think this is the right answer?"

"Well, speaking from the perspective of an average Coordinator on the street, it's very neat and easy, as long as you don't think too deeply about it." Dearka commented. "Point, click, boom, war over. We win. And we didn't have to destroy the Earth, or even really damage it. Unless you look real close, it won't even change, from our perspective. It's easy to forget that there are billions of people living on that blue and green ball in the sky, when it's the size of a basketball most of the time. Especially when they have no way of communicating with you. It solves all of the PLANTS problems very neatly."

"Yes it does. But the PLANTS aren't the only people who deserve to live their lives in peace and happiness." Lacus said, her voice steely cold. "The way I see these Angry Sky weapons, who target civilians, elderly, children, the disabled, the sick, the helpless and the undeserving just as much as they do the worst Blue Cosmos terrorist or mass murderer... just as much as they target even someone like Frost... these weapons are WRONG. This war should never be allowed to become something where it's a matter of population vs population, of who can completely destroy the capability of the other side to function as a society. I won't stand for it, even if it means I have to stand against my own home country to do it."

"What are you going to do then?" Ysak asked. "We don't have anything besides the Eternal, and no Mobile Suits at all. I don't like the idea of these Angry Sky things... I've NEVER apporoved of indiscriminate killing... but what can we DO about it?"

"I will be going to Earth, as soon as possible. I will meet with Sai Argyle. I will convince him that his Isolation cannot stand as it currently is against the threat it now faces. Compromise and cease fire at the MINIMUM is the only ethical and reasonable way forward now."

"Pardon my saying so, Lacus, but when has Sai ever struck you as ethical and reasonable?" Miriallia pointed out, though it hurt, deep inside, to say that about one of her former best friends, despite everything.

"He isn't... and he is, in a manner of speaking. His own man was the one who brought up the unarguable fact that sometimes you have to compromise your ideals to ensure the betterment of the greater good, no matter the personal cost to you and even those you care about. As of now, the Isolation has LOST, whether they realize it and want to admit it or not. It's up to us to convince them of this fact, and convince Sai that negotiation is the only possible way past this that doesn't result in world wide disaster."

"Can we do that, though? Judging from what I saw on the Moon, he's not so much in to negotiating." Athrun pointed out.

"Whatever his personal faults and arrogances, President Argyle isn't a stupid man. I am completely convinced of the fact that if we can present to him the evidence we have, and show him that Operation Overload and the Angry Sky mechanisms are a real, tangible and immediate threat, he will do the right thing for his people... which in this case is to take things off the battlefield and into the realm of words."

"I... agree." Kira said. "Not just because she's right in what she says. Of anyone here, I know Sai the best. Even warped and changed as he's become, he's not the sort of person to just ignore this sort of thing, just because it comes from Lacus and the rest of us. Sai is doing the right thing as he sees it, and nothing can sway him from that path unless we can show him that his path leads to ruin. Sai wants whats best for the Earth and Naturals. Letting ZAFT rain EMP bombs down on the world and sending it back to the middle ages is NOT what's best for the Earth or for Naturals. Sai will be able to see that clearly."

"Yeah, and what if he's got a secret weapon of his own? Something that he can put into play that will stop Operation Overload in it's tracks once he's forewarned?" Alkire protested.

"He doesn't. He would have revealed it if he did, if for no other reason than to discourage the PLANTS from trying something like this. Sai's much more the sort to lay all his cards on the table as quickly as possible. He hates deceit and deception. Even the Isolation Plan was published for months online before he enacted it. Hard as it may be to accept, we have to realize, Sai, while insanely antagonistic and pushy, isn't Blue Cosmos. He doesn't WANT to kill Coordinators unless he has to to defend what he holds important. Sai is not the real enemy here... he's a victim of the war, just like most everyone else. We just have to SHOW him that. He'll cooperate with us to save what's important to him." Kira replied.

"You're putting a lot of trust in your former friend, given how often he's betrayed you!" Ysak snarled. "The last time this happened, I lost Chanel, you bastard. What makes you think this time is going to be any better!?"

"You don't have to come along, Ysak. Nobody but me and Kira have decided to go, just yet. I wouldn't blame you at all if you wanted to stay." Lacus spoke up softly. "That goes for everyone. I know some people will likely be going because of concerns of their own on Earth... but if you don't feel Kira and I are making the right decision here, please, don't force yourselves to support us. I would understand, completely. I'm not totally sure of things myself. All I know for sure is that if I don't do this, a catastrophe beyond anything we all can imagine will occur. I will have completely failed, as a leader and a human being, if I let the Angry Sky come to Earth and just sit here, safe and comfortable at home. The only way things can get worse than they currently are is if we DO NOTHING! I have thusly decided to do SOMETHING, which I think is right and has a chance of averting this disaster. Whether or not I am right, I do not and can not know. All I can do is trust how I feel and trust in my hopes."

"We'll be going." Katie said firmly.

"But..."

"We'll be going." Katie repeated, even more firmly, not even deigning to look at Ysak. "In this, at least, Lacus and I feel the same way, Ysak. It's worth the risk. Hell, even if he throws us all into prison the moment he sees us, or calls for us to be executed on sight... as long as we can avert the Angry Sky from Earth, I can be satisified. Mind, I would prefer he accept our advice and then lick shit off the bottom of my shoes to start making up for all the terrible things he's done to me and us afterwards, but that's just what I want."

Ysak sighed in frustration. "Well, I can't let you go alone."

"I don't think anyone is backing out at the end here, Lacus." Athrun said, after having looked around the room. "Win or lose, or whatever's in between, we're all going to see it together. Maybe we don't all have the same reasons, but we all have reasons compelling enough for us. And if anyone has the best record of pulling through in situations like this, it's you and Kira. You're one for one so far, I don't see why we shouldn't trust in that record."

"You're selling yourself short, Mr. Blow-myself-up-to-save-the-world." Cagalli pointed out tiredly. "We're not going to make much more progess standing around re-affirming the commitments we all know don't need to be re-affirmed at this point. If we're going, lets go!"

"Yeah. Let's go." Kira stood, and led the way out of the room.


	102. Absolute Zero

THEN

"So, you don't think this is a big deal then?" Sai asked, nodding his head at the digital timers that were still taking the place of al his computer's other functions, feeling a good deal more chipper than was usual for this time of morning. It really was incredible what a night with your family could do for you, especially since it was such a rare thing these days. He hadn't even had to chug down a thermos of coffee yet,and given that it was almost six thirty in the morning, THAT was saying something.

"That's not quite what I meant." Cyprus replied, still with his gaze and attention fixed upon the three timers. "Someone, somewhere has managed to hack into our most secure data networks and has downloaded some form of net virus or hostile program onto your computer, sir. That is a grave matter indeed. Especially since our own computer experts can't figure out how to debug this attack... nobody can get any further into the computer than this, even when we break it apart and switch out the hard drives. The old hard drives corrupt new machines, new hard drives are corrupted by something, somewhere in this one. Its information warfare on a level I've never seen before, albeit, not particularly fierce warfare. So far we've detected no hostile or unauthorized downloads, and even all the authorized downloads are checking out. So far."

"I wonder what whoever it is is trying to say? "Angry Sky"... "The End of All"... "Fin"? Talk about cryptic. What's the point of hacking into a system like this and leaving something like this, if it's just a bunch of gobblygook?" Sai turned the problem over and over in his head as hard as he could, but no matter what angle he looked at it from, it didn't start making any more sense. "Maybe it's a taunt? A sort of, "Hey, look what I can do, even to your most secure system" sort of thing?"

"That is likely part of it. If that's the totality of this, then whoever did this is very childish. They had unlimited access to our system files... everything in the Isolation, really... from the moment you opened this file. But as far as we can tell,nothing was taken, nothing is damaged, and nothing besides this timer program has been inserted. If was just a game of "look what I can do", it must be a very, very idle game to whoever did this, if they can do that and just want to taunt us. Now we're going to be looking for someone. Very hard. There MUST be something more to this than just a show off." Cyprus shook his head, irritated. Information warfare wasn't his forte by any means, but psychological warfare was, and the two were often closely related. and this was one of the most contrary and confusing examples of psychological warfare he'd ever seen. It demonstrated extreme technical skill and planning, but had apparently sputtered out into what amounted to a "come and get me" sign, when hundreds of millions if not billions of dollars worth of damage and tens of thousands of man hours of time wasted could have been caused.

"What about the video clips showing Frost and his new Gundam?"

"I've alerted the forces at Panama, and they are currently searching the area thoroughly, but given the nature of the terrain around there, and the relative vagueness of what you described from the video clip, I don't expect them to find him before he moves on, unless he attacks them. Which, given his personality and history, is reasonably likely, actually. I've taken the liberty of diverting additional forces to the area, as backup in case of a sudden engagement. Given the capabilities of the Gundam, and the capabilities of Frost, no matter what sort of conditions we engage him under, save the very most favorable, our losses will be severe."

"Yeah, no kidding." Sai winced, his gut feeling like it had dropped down to his toes just at the thought. "Why now... why delay so long, but start moving now? What's the significance? Is there any? He's certifiably insane, but I can't help but look for some sort of reason or plan behind his actions." Sai gritted his teeth in frustration. "Damn me if I can think of anything though."

"Sir, if you could even fractionally understand and decipher the actions of that monster, I'd have to declare you medically unfit for duty and have you placed in a mental ward." Cyprus replied, not really joking very much. "Its enough that we know he's on the move, and headed in a generally northern direction. All forces in the Atlantic Federation in both North and South hemispheres, including as far out as places as Orb, have been placed on just below red alert status, with the capability of mustering full combat forces in a matter of minutes. I've also put in orders to have the security around Denver increased substantially. Beyond that, there isn't much we can do... we can't take too much away from our ZAFT deterrent forces, or else they might think they can try something at the last moment."

"I'm expecting them to try something at the last moment anyway." Sai pointed out. "They'd be failing their people if they didn't."

"As am I, sir, which is why it is extremely important that we not deplete our orbital, near space and sub-orbital defense forces. As of right now, especially with some of the new ground based defensive installations coming online in the past few weeks, I feel confident in our ability to see off any last ZAFT gasp, even up to and including a full on orbital bombardment and nuclear strikes, both of which our analysts seem to think are reasonably likely. All forces are conducting extra training in missile and low orbit warship interdiction efforts. The airspace above Denver, and most other major Isolation installations, I would tenatively qualify as "impenetrable" to conventional or even WMD attack from ZAFT, given the forces they have remaining to them."

"And our intelligence has seen utterly no evidence of any large space based construction projects... unless they've somehow managed to totally bamboozle our intelligence networks, we won't be seeing a repeat of that melodramatic, converted giant space laser they tried to use last time."

"You cannot deny that it was a very effective, melodramatic, converted giant space laser though, sir. But I agree... if they had something like GENESIS ready, they'd have already showed it to us, rather then waiting until the absolute last minute. According to our projections, given nominal food stocks in the PLANTS at the time of the Earth Isolation, they'll have to sue for peace sometime within the next two weeks, or else let their entire society go to hell. We can hold out for two weeks against anything they have left to throw at us. I'd almost garuantee it, sir."

"An almost garuantee from you, Cyprus, is more than good enough for me." Sai said with a grin. "Well, thanks for giving your opinion and advice. I think we can put this on the back burner for now, at least until the Isolation is finished. On to the real fun part... the legislative and judicial comittee appointments."

"You shouldn't use foul language like that sir, it's not nice."

NOW

"Well, I guess I don't have too much more time, do I?" Sai asked, talking more to himself than to anyone in particular. He still received an answer though. It wasn't totally surprising, given the number of people around. He was planning to give his very first "State of the World" public address, which would be broadcast all over the Earth and up to the Moon as well. The signals were being very carefully calibrated so that they would NOT radiate to the PLANTS... it was a lot of extra hassle on the tech department end, but it was high time they started getting used to doing it, in his mind. It was going to become the norm, after all. The PLANTS could probably still pick up the broadcast, assuming they had people on the Moon, which he assumed they did, but they had teams watching for covert communications relays... with any luck at all, Cyprus's counter-intelligence units would net a good haul of ZAFT operatives and conspirators during the course of his broadcast, as they sought to send the signal to their superiors in the PLANTS.

"Well, that's very true, Mr. President, sir, if you don't mind my agreeing with you." One of the nearby tech support people, setting up the podium, microphones and cameras that would send his words and image out across basically every major TV and radio channel on Earth, piped up. "At least if those clocks over there are right. I don't get it though, Mr. President... what do those captions mean, if I can ask?" The tech pointed behind Sai.

"I was actually hoping someone would eventually be able to tell me that." Sai muttered in slight disgruntlement. He looked over his shoulder at a laptop on a nearby table, it's screen completely blackened out except for the cryptic timers labeled Angry Sky, End of All and Fin, in blue, white and red. Last time he'd looked at that laptop, about two minutes ago, it had been displaying a write up of some of the questions he was expecting to get asked by the reporters. Sai turned and raised a hand slightly, snagging the attention of one of his technical advisors. "The timers are back."

"GodDAMN it!" The man swore under his breath. "It followed you AGAIN, sir! I DON'T get it... that's one of MY computers... I did the firewall and code locks on that unit MYSELF! They were airtight! You couldn't even get a Six Gold into that unit. Whoever's doing this, I want to shake their hand. And then wring their neck until they tell me HOW they're doing this! Do you want me to get you another computer, sir?"

"No, just leave it. I get the feeling that whoever is at the other end of this annoying phenomenon is getting a kick out of us replacing all these computers. They'll just hack the new one too. Obviously, whoever it is considers those timers very important, and doesn't want me forgetting about them. A simple phone call with a warning might be able to do the same thing, but apparently, that's too easy for our mystery hacker." Sai slumped his shoulders for a moment in irritation, but then quickly recovered his posture. It wouldn't do for people to see the President of the World moping like a nineteen year old who got turned down for a date, especially over something as trivial as this pointless hacker.

"You know Mr. President, it's kind of funny." The tech support guy said, as he finished positioning another microphone.

"What is?" Sai asked, somewhat absently, already running over the speech again in his mind.

"Well, given that we've never told anyone the exact time when you're going to give this address, the timer saying "The End of All" is only about three minutes off from your scheduled start time. Looks like that timer is going to run out just after you start the speech."

"It's almost creepy." Sai commented dryly. "The hacker's melodramatic sense of timing is somewhat in sync with my own. Imagine that. I guess great minds think alike, or some such rubbish as that."

The tech support guy chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so, Mr. President. Well, thats it for the set up, or nearly so. Guess I have to go back to just being part of the audience now. Good luck, sir. And, if I could... I'd like to thank you, sir, very much, for what you're doing."

"No, it's me that should be thanking you... and everyone else. I'm not doing this by myself, after all." Sai smiled and shook the man's hand warmly.

--

"Unidentified PLANT shuttle. We have you on our scopes. You are in a no fly zone. Divert from your intended course and return to your mothership. Do not attempt to enter the Earth's atmosphere. Repeating... DO NOT attempt to enter the atmosphere. If you proceed, we will shoot you down with no further warning." The radio crackled and fritzed from the beginnings of atmospheric inteference.

"Yadda, yadda, yadda." Alkire muttered under his breath, tensing his hands on the controls. "Could I have a medium fries and a coke with that too?"

"Are you ever serious, Robert?" Kisaka commented from the co-pilot's chair. "This is a life or death situation, and you insist on acting like you're some sort of commedian."

"Ledonir, its BECAUSE this is a life or death situation that I'm adopting my devil-may-care attitude. Because otherwise, I'd be a shivering wreck, no good to anyone. Because what we're doing, is, most likely, suicide. One way or another."

"You don't have confidence in your piloting skills?"

"Oh, I have LOTS of confidence in my skills. I just happen to be wise enough to not discount THEIR skills. Or the fact that, at least during the initial atmospheric entry, my maneuvering capability in this bird is essentially nil, unless I want to turn us into a phoenix."

"A phoenix?"

"As in, bird made of FIRE. Or in our case, flaming wreckage, because while the heat absorbing tiles on this baby are pretty good and tolerant of small errors... say, a couple degrees of slope either way from optimal... if I try any sort of juke or dodge, I'll be lucky if I only tear a wing off, and not just turn us into a friction fireball."

"Surely you're over-estimating the danger. You don't have to try and scare me, Robert. I'm plenty scared. I just don't resort to jokes to hide it."

"Well, it isn't ALL bad, you're right. We've got a couple things going in our favor. The kids are relying on the idea that Sai doesn't WANT to act offensively, especially against an unarmed civilian shuttle, so we can get pretty close before they actually take action against us. I wasn't counting on it, but so far anyway, its been borne out. I'm relying on the fact that we're basically hitting the atmosphere at the STEEPEST survivable angle possible, at a speed I'm sure the designers of this bird would scream and cry in horror about if they knew we were doing this. I'm no real expert on orbit to ground landing procedures, but from what I've read on the trip to Earth aboard the Eternal, shallow and slow are the "good" descriptive terms for atmospheric entry paths, while steep and fast are generally "bad" terms. I'd really almost prefer to be in one of those neato drop pods ZAFT uses... those go pretty much straight down like bullets, which makes them VERY hard to intercept. Of course, the problem with drop pods, which precludes our use of them, is the fact that they don't have any OTHER maneuvering capability, other than the ability to... drop downwards like bullets."

"But once we're through the upper atmosphere and in controlled flight, you'll be feeling much happier?"

"Much is a very relative term."

"You are determined to be pessimistic about this, aren't you? We've done everything we can, including launching decoy's from the Eternal and picking an insertion path in one of the most dead empty air defense zones on Earth. We're coming in pretty much directly over the North Pole, and well outside the defense perimeter of the nearest major base, which would be Heaven's Base in Iceland. There isn't a ground installation within two hundred miles of our path... even the fastest orbital interceptor jets will take ten minutes or more to reach our location, much less our altitude. We're actually dropping very close to one of the Angry Sky drop points... obviously ZAFT has made the same analysis of the air defense network in this zone as we did."

"Very good. Do we have a fleet overhead and a couple dozen Mobile Suits providing close cover too?"

"We have the Eternal, at least for the next three minutes or so."

"Then you'll understand if I remain less than fully satisified by that comparison?"

"Unidentified shuttle, you have ignored our warning and crossed into the upper atmosphere. Our targeting radar is now locking on to you. If you continue on your path, you will be intercepted and shot down without mercy."

"For FUCKS sake!" Alkire snatched at the radio toggle. "Listen, you bastards... if you're gonna try and shoot me down, get the fuck started, the tension is killing me up here! On the other hand, if you wanna keep giving me warnings, tell me now, so I can go to head for a bit, cause I gotta piss some. Pick one or the other! Good christ!" Alkire put both hands on the steering yoke again.

"If we survive this, Robert, I'm going to put in for you to see a psychiatric counseler, okay? You seem to have some issues that I want someone professional to talk to you about."

Alkire ignored him and tagged the intercomm button. "Hello everyone, this is your captain speaking. I'd like to welcome you all to Majesty Airlines. Thank you for flying with us. Or, in this case, plummeting under minimal control. Things are likely to get very interesting and perhaps even violent soon. I'm sorry to say there will be no in flight movie, though in small recompense, there will be a very impressive laser light show going on outside the windows. Sometimes very close outside the windows. Please, take this time now to stow all personal belongings and fasten your seat restraints securely, and turn off all electronic devices. Unless one of them happens to be a very powerful ECM suite. Cause we could use that. Turbulence is expected, so locating your air sickness courtesy bags now would be prudent. Remember to switch bags when one becomes full, otherwise it can become very messy. Once again, thank you for flying with Majesty Air. With a great deal of luck and a few minor miracles, we will be on the ground, hopefully in one piece, in about thirty minutes." Alkire turned the intercomm off and sighed heavily.

"I suppose you think that was funny."

"Actually, no, I don't think it was funny at all. However, now that THEY'RE all panicking, I don't have to anymore. Now I can worry about them, and not me. And all its going to cost us is a whole bunch of vomit and quite a few soiled space suits. Small price, in comparison." Alkire straighted in his seat and smiled a predatory smile. "All right, you Isolationist motherfuckers... lets dance."

"Serious professional help indeed. Inpatient care. Supervised. With sedatives. And restraints." Kisaka kept mumbling even as he gripped his own restraints tightly, because the shuttle was starting to shake and shiver from the friction against the atmosphere. They'd just crossed the point of no return. There was only one way to go from here, regardless of the method. Down.

--

"Mr. President! Mr. President!" Sai turned at the unexpected, insistent calling of his title. Especially at this very last moment sort of stage. He was due up on the podium to start taking pre-speech questions within the next minute. A military aide pushed through the crowd of Isolationist political personnel that seemed to grow larger and larger at every function he want to. Orderlys having aides having assistants having consultants... he wondered if it would ever end, sometimes. Couldn't anyone but him and a select few others make up their minds without having to ask the opinions of a dozen or more other people?

"You've got thirty seconds, Colonel. What is it?" Sai prompted, waving away the man's salute. If it was that urgent, he could give a damn about protocol.

"An unidentified civilian PLANT shuttle has breached the atmosphere above the North Pole, sir. It launched from it's mothership less than thirty minutes ago and began a sharp and direct descent path almost immediately. Our anti-air radar in that part of the world detected them almost immediately... they haven't employed any sort of countermeasures or protective devices, not even chaff. Several other shuttle launches were detected from the mothership, but our radar people are pretty sure those are decoys. Forces are currently scrambling to intercept and shoot down the intruders, who began controlled atmospheric flight about twenty minutes ago, despite our best efforts to shoot them down with long ranged fire. They are currently flying south and west at an altitude of two hundred thousand feet, in a long dive pattern. They appear to be heading in this general direction, but our forces will be able to interdict them when they are still more than a hundred miles away at least."

"That's all well and good, Colonel, but I don't see why it warrents my attention. It sounds like the military has things well under control."

"We do sir. And I wouldn't have bothered you at this critical time either, sir, except for one thing."

"What's that, Colonel?" Sai asked, starting to head towards the stairs that would lead up onto the podium. It was a nice, late afternoon Colorado day... partly cloudy, blue skies mostly, currently about sixty degrees, making him glad for his suit jacket, with temperatures expected to plummet to below freezing that night, with perhaps even a few snow flurries in the early morning. Snow flurries in early autumn... altitude sure could do strange things. Guess it hadn't used to be known as the Mile High State for no reason.

"The identity of the mothership, sir. It's the Eternal. According to our records anyway, despite its appearances, that is not a ZAFT aligned ship. In fact it belongs to..."

"I know who it belongs to, Colonel. And I know who's likely to be on that shuttle too, so don't feel like you need to tell me." Sai clenched one fist in frustration. "I'd thought I'd seen the last of them after Orb, but I guess they have one last gasp to make too. They would, of course. It is Lacus Clyne and Kira after all. They just don't know when they aren't needed anymore." Sai let out his breath in a deep sigh. "Thank you for the update, Colonel. Please, keep me informed as to when that shuttle is shot down."

"Yes, sir!"

--

"Well, that wasn't nearly so bad, was it, Robert?" Kisaka asked, adjusting his restraining straps as gently as possible to avoid aggravating the deep bruise lines they'd worn into his chest, despite the thickly padded space suit. "Yes, it was quite a bit rougher than most orbit to atmosphere transitions I've experienced in the past, but you made it sound like it was a near certainty that we were going to go up in flames at any second."

"Oh yeah... it wasn't so bad at all..." Alkire gave Kisaka a dirty look indeed. "Care to guess why I'm only going to be dodging left or right in a very minimal fashion, Mr. Optomist? And it isn't because I feel like giving myself a handicap for kicks! Can't guess? It's because the part of the tail that LETS me turn left or right ISN'T part of the tail anymore! Its only by the grace of some God that we still have ANY tail at ALL! That was some SERIOUSLY accurate long range fire, considering the angle of descent, our speed of descent and the relatively small size of this shuttle. If I could shoot like that, I'd be able to give Raine a run for her money some day! It's akin to shooting the tailfeathers off a hummingbird from fifty feet away! Even by accident, its still something you can brag about!"

"We're still alive though, Robert, bear in mind! Given how you were talking earlier, that puts us quite a bit ahead of the game, doesn't it?"

"Yep. We've gone an' passed the little league. Now the professional players are looking for their turn to stomp the rookies." Alkire gestured at a large series of blips on their radar screen, which was fuzzing and fritzing erratically as it was disrupted by the countermeasures of the fast approaching Isolation forces. "Care to guess how many of them there are? I'm going to go out on a limb and say... LOTS. And they're splitting up to surround us too."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't want you to do ANYTHING about it, Ledonir. Doing things about it is MY job at the moment. I just want you to shut up and stop trying to give me hope, okay? I don't need it. I function at my best when there IS no hope, okay!? When everything is completely bleak and its obvious that we're totally boned, thats when I pull the miracles out of my ass! Not any other times. If there's one thing I ever learned from an enemy, its this... when all you can see around you is death and destruction, with no way out... it's time for you to decide How you wanna go to hell. When and why are NO LONGER up to you. But you can ALWAYS choose how. For instance... if I stay on this course and speed... we are fucked. Totally fucked. They can't really engage us very well at this altitude and speed... but we can't stay at this altitude and definitely not at this speed for very long, or else the whole deal is going to be pointless, because we'll be coming down in Brazil, not Colorado. All they gotta do is plot the point where our course drops below their garuanteed kill range and be waiting for us there. If I'm not completely wrong, thats about a hundred miles short of our intended location."

"Who did you learn such a terribly nihilistic philosophy from? And I see your point, about the hundred mile thing. Thats where I'd assume the evasive maneuvers and your piloting skills would come into the equation."

"Thats what THEY'RE thinking too. Which is why I'm going to do... this." Alkire rammed the control yoke forward, smirking as he listened to the screech of airframe as the shuttle suddenly dropped into a nose dive, pointing almost straight down towards the ground far below, which was mostly mountains... somewhere in old Wyoming, according to their map display. Gravity abruptly went away, leaving them hanging, seemingly weightless in their harnesses, at least for the moment. "And it was Asmodeus by the way." Alkire added. "When he took out the Archangel."

"THIS IS INSANE!"

"Who was it that said something about there being a thin line between genius and insanity? Uhp... don't answer that yet... you're really gonna wanna hang on." Alkire yanked back on the yoke with all his might, while also pressing and releasing the pedals that controlled his remaining flight adjustment surfaces rapidly. It sucked that the tail was mostly useless for right to left steering... it meant he pretty much had to turn the shuttle by adjusting one side or the other to have more air resistance... but it actually helped that they were going so fast... that was a LOT of resistance to use. Even tiny changes in the shuttle's resistance to the air passing along various surfaces made big differences when you were barreling along at close to four times the speed of sound. Alkire felt the blood rush out of his head and torso and start to pool in his legs and other extremities because of the G-forces from pulling out of the dive, but his flight suit managed to compensate for the worst of it, and dogged disregard for anything besides survival defeated the rest.

"Woo! Headrush!" Alkire exclaimed, giddy and light headed after the shuttle leveled out, now flying at only a little higher than the tops of the mountains around them. And upside down, but that part didn't really affect him much. Still, shuttles were designed to fly for long periods of time only in certain ways in atmosphere, so he grudgingly pedalled his surfaces to make the shuttle rotate back to having the seat bottoms actually being down, more or less. "I'd like to see a rollercoaster beat THAT!"

"W-what... what was the point of that!?" Kisaka asked weakly. The high G-forces had affected him more than Alkire, due to his larger size and mass. And general unfamiliarity with such maneuvers. Kisaka could fly a mobile suit just fine... even better than fine. But a nosedive from two hundred thousand feet down to fifteen thousand feet, with a rollover pullout, over mountainous terrain that wasn't a great deal less than fifteen thousand feet high at many points, was NOT in his standard repetoire of tricks. Especially going Mach 4, which was a speed no normal Mobile Suit could even get anywhere close to in atmosphere.

"Well, besides keeping all of our dear passengers awake and alert, you mean? Think about it. You're still grey in the face yourself. No one in their right mind pulls stunts like that. Certainly not if their life doesn't depend on it. I certainly don't expect any of the crowd of folks gathered up there at the one hundred fifty to one hundred seventy five thousand foot marks to be in any particular rush to get down here. We're an unarmed, unprotected civilian shuttle after all. Their sensors can easily show them that. Why risk catastrophic equipment failure or medical problems with a Blazing Deathdive if you can just circle down nice and safely and just catch up to your prey later? It's not like we can shoot back at them... or at anyone."

"How much space did that bit of structured insanity give us?" Kisaka's voice was still unsteady.

"Twenty-thirty miles, I'm guessing. Air's a lot thicker down here, it's going to slow us down. Thankfully, we're going to be out of the mountains in a minute or so, so that'll free up another few thousand feet of airspace. And don't worry, I still got at least one or two more tricks WAAAY more fucked up than a simple Blazing Deathdive. We'll get to the city, don't worry."

"Who's being optomistic now!?"

"Once we get to the city, we're in the hands of God or the Devil, whoever bids higher, but we'll get to the city all right."

"Alkire... what the HELL are you doing up here?" Kira's unexpected voice demanded from just behind them. "I've seen you do some pretty crazy things in the air... things even Mu would never consider... but WHAT was the logic behind that dive just now?"

"HOW ARE YOU STANDING!?" Alkire jerked away from the sound of the voice as if he'd felt a ghost touch him. He didn't dare turn around to look at Kira to display the full extent of his incredulation... taking your eyes off the road was bad enough at twenty miles per hour, much less 3300 miles per hour.

"This isn't the first time I've made an unexpectedly direct trip from orbit to surface. Last time I was in a Mobile Suit. In many ways, that was a lot worse, because at least in a shuttle we don't have to worry about a lack of heat tiles or cooling systems to prevent us from collapsing from heat exhaustion."

"Okay. Whatever. It was an evasive maneuver, okay? Now get your spooky ass back into your seat and comfort your princess or something, got it? And let me fly in peace. You're gonna jinx me, standing up, unrestrained like that!"

"Lacus actually isn't doing too bad. Nobody was happy with that dive, but you should remember that most of us are used to living in microgravity at times, which is a lot harder on the stomach than..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Siddown, thats an order from the pilot of this aircraft. And if she isn't sick yet, well, that's because the ride isn't over yet, ladies and gentlemen. In fact, it's just getting to the fun part, as I was informing Ledonir before you interrupted us." Alkire listened to the door of the cockpit opening and shutting again. "Holy god, how did he DO THAT!? I pulled an easy seven or eight G on that pullout and he's NOT in a protective flightsuit like me... he should be semiconscious at best, standing up so soon after that dive!"

"I would suggest not letting it bother you, Robert. We have more pressing concerns. Such as those jets."

"Oho, oho, oho... not doing too bad, eh... used to living in microgravity, eh... jinxing the pilot by standing up, eh... WELL LETS SEE HOW YOU HANDLE THIS, MR. COORDINATOR!" Alkire savagely jerked at his controls, throwing the shuttle into a rapid axial spin, so that it was cutting through the air like a drill bit. Every so often, at mostly random intervals, he jammed down on one wing flap pedal or the other for a second or to... the sudden change in wind resistance on that side of the shuttle resulting in it being kicked in the opposite direction almost sideways anywhere from fifty to a couple hundred feet at a time, depending on how long he held the pedal down. And of course, since the wings were, at any given moment in time, rotating around a central point, that meant the shuttle was bounced in basically random directions... sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes left or right, sometimes at a combination of directions... like a housefly that has flown into a bug zapper and just barely not been killed. Just, much, much faster.

Alkire smiled grimly as he heard screaming from nearby. Apparently Kisaka was very impressed with this method of avoiding enemy fire... he was flailing around like a madman. Of course, that might just be because he had no choice, since everyone in the shuttle was being bounced around like pebbles in a marraca, with an extra strong boot to the ass every time the shuttle slalomed. Alkire listened to the shrieks of sirens and other alarms, and mostly paid them no mind. He knew what the sounds of an airplane breaking apart in midair sounded like, and he wasn't hearing them yet. Cherry red lights appeared on many instrument panels. Cherries were good things, so Alkire decided he was going to consider anything colored like them good as well. It wasn't like he had to give the shuttle back to anyone or anything. He gripped the yoke and focused as much of his attention and strength on keeping the shuttle on a mostly straight course as he could. Perfectly straight was of course out of the question... but then again, he'd really, really like to see someone actually hit him ON PURPOSE right now. Well, no, he wouldn't really, but academically speaking, it would be interesting to be in the other guys shoes right now.

He eyed a certain gauge with steady misgiving... the only downside to this particular maneuver that he could see... at least, that was currently relevant... was that it ATE fuel like nothing else. Shuttles were not designed to spin like this, not and maintain speed anyway. His wind resistance was off the charts... he'd turned a long, swept back delta shape into basically a large rectangular box by spinning like this. Rectangles, especially boxes, were not very aerodynamic. However, it wasn't like he really needed to conserve fuel either... they were only going one place, and shuttles actually carried quite a bit of extra fuel on board. He debated making a grab for the intercomm and asking how people in the passenger compartment were doing, but he decided against it. One, taking a hand off the yoke would probably result in him losing control and them all dying. Two, they probably couldn't hear him over all the other noise. Three... he didn't want to know if Kira was actually able to talk to him coherently right now. He was afraid of the answer.

At length... about two minutes or thirty plus bounces... after he'd started the maneuver, he looked again at his radar screen and realized that he'd passed the oncoming fighter jets, who had now turned around and were pursuing, though at a leisurely distance and speed. Maybe they'd thought he was in the process of crashing. He supposed that he might not blame them for thinking that, if he'd been on the outside, looking in. When he snap-rolled the shuttle out of the headlong spin, they did increase their pace slightly, but he could already see the buildings of the metropolis of Denver ahead of them on the horizon. He was starting to fly over suburbs and outlying communities now, and it was probably not a good idea to keep appearing like he was about to slam into the ground at almost 2800 mph... they might figure that blowing him into tiny pieces was better than risking him landing on a school or something. No, now he wanted to assure them that yes, he was in fact in control of the shuttle, so please, don't do anything to disrupt that, because he might then crash on a school.

"So... as I was saying... we're going to make it to the city. See, there's the city." Alkire tried not to listen to the sounds of retching and panting. "Ledonir?"

"Robert... was that... intentional... or did we lose some critical part of this shuttle and you only NOW got us back under control!?"

"Oh, that was a patented Jones family maneuver. We call that one "Thank GOD for seatbelts". Or, if there are no seatbelts, then we call it "The Slushie Machine"."

"YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!? That would suggest you'd done it at least once or twice before, to practice!"

"Several hundred times, actually. It's a real blast to do in those flight simulator games, especially the 3D ones. To be honest, I was kinda happy to see it worked, in real life. Its too bad I'll probably never get to see the flight recorder clips from the pursuing jets. Those are going to be inducted into a hall of fame somewhere, I'm sure."

"You and I will have more than words later. If there is later. And maybe a hall of fame of stuff that SHOULDN'T have worked!"

"But did." Alkire wasn't too proud to point out. "Okay. We're at the city... well, about thirty seconds out. Now what? Please bear in mind, a snap decision would be nice... at this speed, we won't be at the city for longer than about eight seconds."

"We need to find a place to land. A road, a field, a lake... something."

"Ah. Very well then. Co-pilot, the controls are yours."

"What!? But I've never landed a shuttle before!"

"Oddly enough, neither have I. Not even in a simulator."

"Robert!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on. I was just kidding. I've done lots of shuttle landings in simulators. Just, never without crashing." Alkire began rapidly throttling back and reversing thrust, while also lowering the flaps and raising all control surfaces... anything to generate wind resistance to slow the battered shuttle down. It was working just fine too. Everything was peachy, airspeed was dropping rapidly, altitude was dropping rapidly but evenly, nobody was shooting at them. At least, until there was an absolutely horrid ripping of metal and plastics and the port side wing just sorta... got left behind. One moment it was there, doing its job well, if thrumming and humming like a whole orchestra of harmonica players... the next, it was completely gone. "That's not good." Alkire had time to opine, just as the shuttle heeled over sharply to the left and sharply down as well. Part of the problem was corrected a few moments later when, wrestling madly with the controls, attempting to bring the nose up into something approximating a normal landing position, the right side wing buckled and tore in half, slewing the shuttle back over towards the right.

"Air speed is only two hundred and fifty miles per hour. Altitude is a little over three hundred feet and dropping like a stone. And I think there's a field somewhere beneath us." Alkire commented, in those crystal clear moments of time that seem to last forever, just before everything goes completely to hell. "This is the part where we bend over and kiss our as..."

--

_Well, that was one speech that wasn't going to start on time._ Sai thought disgustedly to himself as he, along with several dozen other senior Isolation officials, took shelter from the clouds of dust and powdered glass spreading like mist through downtown Denver. He'd been just about to start his opening lines when people started pointing and shouting. That happened to him sometimes during his speeches... he was pretty popular. But they weren't pointing and shouting at him, he had soon realized. No, they were pointing at the decrepit and smoke trailing orbit to surface shuttle that was streaking like a comet towards the city out of the north, pursued by Isolation strike fighters, flying way too close to the ground to be even approximating safe, which was the source of the shouts. That is, until the sonic boom from the rapidly deccelerating shuttle caught up to it and shattered half the glass in the greater downtown area into powder, the sonic assault sending people reeling and leaves whirling from trees, cars skidding into other cars and into road barriers and blowing Sai himself over, even standing behind his podium like he had been.

The sonic boom hadn't been kind to the shuttle either, as both wings fluttered off it with a second of each other, like a locust being tormented by a small child. With no wings to continue to give it lift and its engines stuttering and dying, the shuttle did what all large, heavy, unpropelled airborne objects do... it came down to Earth. The shuttle didn't crash particularly close to the downtown city area, but instead came down in the outskirts, near the Platte river. The sound was still clearly audible, even five or six miles away, and the dust cloud easily covered that far, as Sai could see, since he was looking outside the former State Capitol building and he could, for the moment, see little besides drifting grit outside. Military and civilian emergency response had been immediate and overpowering, with several squadrons of mobile suits and nearly a regiment of mechanized infantry arriving at the crash site within minutes, followed shortly thereafter by caravans of fire trucks and even a few ambulances. Ashino was flying overhead with the Independence by the time rescue and investigation crews started pulling the wreckage apart. To their great surprise, and Sai's not so great surprise and great disgruntlement, they found survivors. Plenty of survivors as it turned out. Plenty of very FAMOUS survivors.

Survivors who were quickly gathered up by military police, after their wounds, which were mostly minor bruises and contusions since the shuttles safety systems, which were usually thought to be completely overdesigned, had worked to save their lives, were tended to and were currently under heavy escort and guard being brought to Sai. He'd really, really wanted to just have them sent to jail, or even, for a few savage moments, just have them shot right then and there, but he'd controlled himself. Shooting Lacus Clyne and her chief followers out of hand, even if they had broken several treaties and caused millions of dollars worth of damage in coming back to Earth, wasn't the sort of image he wanted to be representative of the Isolation's kicking off. And while sending them to jail would be both prudent and legal, his people on the scene had reported that even while they were receiving medical attention, both Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Zala-Attha had been requesting... no, begging... to talk with him about something. He was stumped as to what either of them could want with him so desperately... he was fully aware that he was FAR from their favorite person ever, but he was also curious. What could bring Lacus Clyne to do something so hideously risky like this? Much less bringing all the rest of heir chief supporters along for the ride. Something was fishy here.

And so he waited, somewhat impatiently, along with Vanai and his children, plus Ramierez, Glory and Cyprus, for Ashino and the 71st SMS to arrive with the prisoners. Maybe putting five Templars and the Independence as guards for the Clyne Faction, given they didn't possess a single weapon amongst them, was heavy handed... but just because he'd decided to humor them, didn't mean Sai was feeling particularly civil either. This was a major disruption to a critical event in his plan, and he was not going to be anything less than visibly angry about it. Especially because, no matter how he looked at it, he couldn't see anything that Lacus or Cagalli had to say to him that he would either A, care about, B, could do anything about or C, want to do anything about. He'd already HAD his discussion with them, outside Orb. They'd surrendered. Given up. What MORE did they want to cover? Well, he did know one thing... this time around, he wasn't going to point a gun at Kira. He chuckled bleakly.

"Something funny, sir?" Ramierez asked, his weapon held not so casually in his arms.

"Just be careful where you point that, okay, Ramierez? I don't want Lacus melting our brains again."

"Oh, great, sir, thanks for reminding me about THAT!" Ramierez replied, somewhat bitterly. "As if I wasn't nervous about having them around before."

"They're unarmed."

"That didn't stop her, last time I checked!"

"While this entire operation is uncharacteristic for Ms. Clyne, Corporal, I still personally find it hard to believe she would come here with the intent of harming the President." Cyprus said. "While I have no doubt that if she was the sort of person inclined to assassination, Ms. Clyne would do the job herself, she isn't that sort of person. Especially since Yamato is still alive."

"Neither is Cagalli, at the end of things." Sai added. "She talks a fair game, and she doesn't hesistate to fight when she thinks she needs to... but assassination... no. Not unprovoked, certainly. And conquering her nation and shipping a percentage of its population away to live in space, while offensive to her, isn't THAT offensive. If she, or any of them, were to kill me or even attack me, things would go badly for them AND for the PLANTS, and they know it. They aren't stupid people, they know how to act for the greater good, even if its offensive or degrading to them. Truly, anyone looking for a icon of self sacrifice doesn't have to look any further than a random given member of the Clyne Faction leadership."

Further conversation on the subject was rendered moot as six large and very impressive Mobile Suits descended to the ground outside the capitol building. Looking almost like toys next to them, two six wheeled APC's rolled to a stop at the base of the stairway leading up to the main entrance hall. Sai had debated recieving the Clyne Faction in a place with a little more decorum... a conference room in the underground government center for instance... but he'd decided against it. Better to show them just how displaced and disgruntled he was. He'd greet them in a public place, with dust and glass powder still on his shoulders and in his hair, where they'd have to tell their stories and make their excuses with lots of press and media around... press and media that was quite staunchly on his side. Bad enough that they had to crash a shuttle into a city of his, they'd be crucifying themselves if they tried to bring up some of their old arguments, many of which he'd had distrubuted to the press after the Isolation of Orb. He'd had nothing to hide, after all.

Lacus Clyne, obviously freshly changed out of a space suit, judging by the rumpled and slightly ragged look of her clothing, was the first preson through the doorway, with Cagalli and Kira not far behind her. The rest of the Clyne Faction, including even people like Alkire Majesty, Ledonir Kisaka and Murrue Ramius, formed a solid knot of slightly worn, slightly battered but still fully alive and supportive people behind the three main representatives. Sai didn't see Andrew Waltfeld anywhere, but he supposed someone had to stay behind, in charge of the Eternal. Even now, even though they were political and even personal enemies, Sai couldn't deny that Lacus Clyne was pretty damn good at making an entrance, when she wanted to be. No matter the fact that thirty minutes ago she'd been pulled, coughing, retching and staggering from the smoldering wreckage of a shuttle crash, she walked into the capitol building with her head held high and a steely glare on her face that told anyone with eyes that she meant business. She didn't wait to be directed to him, she spotted him the moment she entered the building and made a beeline for him, with the various Isolation officials in her way parting before her like a messiah parting an ocean. Sai felt the force of something he couldn't fully describe strike him like a slap to the face, making him blink and stand a little taller and straighter, even more awake and attentive than he had been before.

Sai glanced around, to see Ramierez and Glory and pretty much everyone else around him blinking their eyes and adjusting their postures as well. Everyone but Cyprus, that is, who was utterly unchanged and seemingly unaffected by Lacus's magnetic personality. Which said to Sai, since he'd experienced feelings somewhat like this, if not nearly as benign, before when Cyprus had been the only one not affected, that this wasn't just strictly Lacus's personality, which, while surely stellar, was not really attractive to him, on second consideration. He found, through an effort of will, that he could ignore the feelings of special attention and slight attraction she was somehow giving off... how, he'd dearly like to know, because it would REALLY come in handy in politics. "Lacus Clyne. And esteemed company. I'm glad to see you all alive and well, though you might not believe me." Sai made sure to get the first word in. No sense in letting Lacus keep the advantage her little... whatever it was... had given her.

"Your concern for our physical health has never been in doubt, President Argyle." Lacus replied, smoothly and easily. "I'd like to return your greeting. I'm sorry for the method of our arrival, but we had no other choice. I hope you'll be able to forgive us for causing a disruption to the city." Sai noticed that Cagalli didn't appear to agree with Lacus's concern for his physical health, but she was, wonder of wonders, keeping her lips buttoned, at least for the moment.

"I think..." Sai said slowly. "That you might want to hope for something a little more... possible. Such as, perhaps, a chance to explain yourselves? Do I need to remind you that you surrendered to me and agreed to be deported, never to return?"

"Yes, you defeated us militarily and we did surrender. You're right." Cagalli said, the words harsh in her mouth. "But we aren't here to talk about what happened in the past. I'm not even here as the former leader of Orb. I'm here as a concerned human being."

"Concerned human being?" Sai tasted each word seperately. "Are you trying to rephrase your previous arguments? I'd advise you not to... its going to be embarassing enough for you when I put you under house arrest for the conceivable future, you might not want to damage what political credibility you have left, you know?"

Lacus stepped forward a half step. "No, President Argyle, we aren't here to re-debate past points of contention, no matter how much I'd love to. Like Cagalli said, we're here as concerned human beings. People, concerned about other people... all other people... to discuss a matter with you that affects everyone on Earth and in Space. A matter of the greater good, which your bodyguard over there was so wise to lecture me about, outside of Orb."

"We're here to give you a warning, Sai. Not from a threat we pose... we don't pose a threat right now, even I can understand that... but from a threat the entire Earth is facing." Kira spoke up, direct and strong and much more forward than the Kira Sai was used to. Save for that one time, in the desert, when he'd tried to confront him about Flay. Only this time, Kira seemed quite calm.

"A threat? To the Earth? What are you talking about? The Earth is currently the safest place in the solar system right now. ZAFT is mere weeks from being forced to surrender. There's nothing they can do about it, either. Our defenses have been built up with the goal of preventing even massive orbital bombardment and use of nuclear weapons and other WMDs. ZAFT doesn't even have a fiftieth of the forces we do now, and their technological edge is about as sharp as spoon, and getting duller every day. ZAFT's not a threat, you people aren't a threat, Tiamat isn't a threat... what threat are you trying to imply that there is!?" Sai demanded, incredulously.

Lacus reached into a pocket and pulled out a data disk. She held it out to him. "This disk details the threat we discovered. Feel free to take it. In fact, I insist you do. I'd be happiest if you looked at it right now, in fact."

Sai tenatively reached out and took the disk. It was just a standard ten gigabyte chip. Nothing special about it he could see. "I was about to give an important, world wide speech, before your shuttle interrupted me. I'll look at this disk after I take care of my original plans, if thats okay with you."

"Its not." Lacus's reply stopped him cold. He regarded her with some surprise. Lacus Clyne had always been unfailingly polite and politically correct. Disagreement was not the expected reply to that statement.

"Well, I'm sorry that you don't like it then. But I'm the President here, Lacus, not you, so I'm afraid you're going to just have to deal with the disappointment." Sai retorted, feeling somewhat confrontational all of a sudden. Even frustrated. It took him a moment to realize that they weren't his feelings. "How are you doing that, by the way?" Sai asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"It's... its... I'll tell you, if you look at that disk." Lacus hedged.

"How about you tell me, and then, if I'm satisified you aren't trying to game me, I'll look at the disk?" Sai returned.

"Ugh! What's the matter, are you afraid to look at a disk or something? Is it so hard to believe that Lacus Clyne would bring you critical information on ZAFT's latest project?" Cagalli protested furiously.

"Now that you mention it... yes, it is hard to believe, given that she's a Coordinator and daughter of a former Supreme Council member. Betraying the PLANTS is the LAST thing Lacus Clyne would do." Sai replied with a small smile.

"Even if what she discovered was so repulsive and despicable that she decided to come here, risking her life to do it, as a concerned human being, and not Lacus Clyne, PLANT idol?" Kira asked with a pointed look at the disk. "The clock is ticking, Sai. None of us... not you, not us, not the Earth itself and all the people on it... have time to be wasting on posturing because of personal or political dislike!"

"Kira..." Sai found himself legitimately angry this time, without recourse to whatever it was Lacus was doing. "I could have sworn I've warned you before about trying to preach to me or tell me what I should do? Have you not learned that... well, to be blunt, I don't VALUE your opinion anymore, Kira. You want me to look at the disk so bad? Tough. I said I'd look at it after I give my speech. So I will. Unlike several people here, when I make a promise, I keep it."

"Operation Overload and the Angry Sky mechanisms are not something you want to be putting on hol..." Athrun spoke up, freezing as Sai, Cyprus and many of the upper echelon Isolationist tech support people all suddenly swiveled their heads to stare at him.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Sai demanded.

"That you didn't want to put this on hold."

"NO! Before that. Operation Overload and WHAT!?"

"They're EMP bombs. Gigaton category Gugnirs." Athrun retorted. "ZAFT calls the project "Angry Sky", presumably because they're the product of an enraged nation from beyond the Earth's skies."

"You said Angry Sky?" Cyprus asked, in confirmation.

"Yes. Thats what the bombs are called. They built twenty of them. They're going to drop them on Earth in less than a day from now. If the Angry Sky's go off, you can kiss the Isolation goodbye... you can kiss civilization on Earth in general goodbye. Its all on that disk we're BEGGING you to look at. PLEASE!" Athrun replied, bowing his head deferentially, though it certainly stuck in his craw to do it. "Why do you keep asking about Angry Sky? Have you heard that phrase before?"

"You said less than a day?" Cyprus asked for confirmation again.

"Its on the disk. The disk!" Athrun repeated in exasperation. "But yes, that's right. ZAFT's fleet should already be on their way to Earth right now, if they're following the plan we discovered."

"Sergeant-Major, get OrLoSuCOM (Orbital Long Range Surveillance Command) on a secure line right now! Tell them I want an update on all know ZAFT fleet dispositions ASAP!" Cyprus ordered briskly.

"Why are you taking us seriously now?" Kira asked. "Not that I'm complaining, because this is about as serious as things can get."

"Corporal. Show them the computer."

"Sir!" Ramierez wasted no time in grabbing Sai's laptop from a desk nearby. He flipped up the screen and turned on the power. Within seconds the familiar black screen and three digital timers were there for everyone to see. The electric blue timer titled "Angry Sky" had just over twenty two hours remaining on it. The white timer titled "The End of All" sat ominously at zero, like it had for almost an hour now. The bloody crimson timer titled "Fin" was also still showing all zeros.

"This timer showed up on my personal computer a week and a few days ago. It took over the computer completely, after I looked through an apparent scouting report that had located Zacharis Frost. He'd retreated to Antarctica in the ZAFT Gundam Kira abandoned. But then, nine days ago, he'd started heading northwards. I have many forces looking for him, especially around Panama, which is where the last known sighting of that Gundam is. But that was nine days ago. And we still haven't found a trace of him. We thought that the program was some form of childish information warfare or psychological taunt. Apparently it was also a warning, I see that now." Sai explained. "Maybe I won't send the hacker to jail for life then. Just a few years, until they can learn proper communication skills." He added, more to himself.

"Does anyone else find it at all ominous that, given the Angry Sky timer there is dead on accurate, that something labeled "The End of All" has reached zero? Meaning to me, that it should have already happpened?" Dearka spoke up, with a hint of nervousness.

"That timer ran out almost an hour ago." Ramierez pointed out. "About the same time you crash landed. But I can't find myself thinking that "End of All" has much to do with you Clyne Faction sad-pandas. Especially since you apparently came with a legitimate warning. But everything's been quiet since that timer ran out. Maybe that one was the joke?"

"Mr. President! MR. PRESIDENT! LIEUTENANT FINCH!" A ghastly pale faced military aide burst out of a side office and into the main hall, tripping over himself in his haste. He was still shouting even as he struggled to his feet. "RADAR PICKED UP A INBOUND BOG-" The rest of the aide's sentence was lost to history when a sound like a man punching an armored glove through a plaster wall, but a million times louder echoed from outside the capitol building. Before the echoes of that could even bounce twice, the front entranceway of the capitol building was smashed inwards by a hurtling object that sent flying stone and wooden debris and shrapnel flying everywhere before it crunched into the far wall, cratering it deeply. The object, which was roughly ball shaped, though possessed of many angular surfaces and protrusions in a oddly familiar symmetry, fell out of the wall and onto the screaming aide and the people nearby with a resounding metallic "CLANG-NG!" that utterly hid the sound of squelching bodies. The object tolled a few more sounds as the object rocked back and forth for a few moments with residual kinetic energy. There was a long instant of silence.

Everyone in the hall found themselves staring at the decapitated head of a Freedom class Gundam, cleanly severed at the neck by something either very sharp or very hot and with deep claw like gouges across its face and skull. One antennae ear was all but ripped off, and one green camera eye was gouged out and the socket sparking. Having come to rest upright and facing Sai and the Clyne faction, with the pools of blood and gore spreading out beneath it, and bloody splatter splashed across its mauled face, it looked like the Gundam head was actually bleeding out, like a real person would. That is when the screaming started.

--

"You're LATE!" Mr. Machine accused, his voice testy and irritated, even through an electronic disguiser. Frost, in the tiny portion of his mind he'd decided to devote to hating Mr. Machine, and Mr. Machine alone, shrugged happily. Little evil geniuses apparently didn't like it when people didn't play by their rules. Or dance on command. Or, be anything at all like Frost. Who was NOT a puppet or a lackey, despite what Mr. Machine seemed to strongly believe at times.

"For what, Mr. Machine... for what?" Frost replied, luxuriating in the feeling of total freedom of movement and expression that the Pulsar gave him. It was like it drew his very soul directly out of his body and gave it form and function. Whatever his other faults, Mr. Machine could design a very lovely Gundam, Frost had to admit. This Pulsar was him. He was the Pulsar. There was no seperation. No slothful controls. No interruptions between intent and action. He hadn't felt like this in... he hadn't felt like this. This, this was bliss. Bliss and orgasm and fate and destiny and love and purpose and function and power, all rolled into one.

"Never you mind, freak. You're just late. Almost an hour late! I thought you were the one that was in a hurry!?"

"Mmm... nah. Not now. Not when you apparently desire me to be. Being contrary is fun, isn't it Mr. Machine? How does it taste, your own medicine, that is?"

"Don't push me, freak. I'm the one in control here. You serve at my pleasure!" Mr. Machine was really gritting his teeth now, Frost could tell. Or whatever it was that pre-teen evil geniuses did when they were frustrated.

"If it bothers you so much, Mr. Machine, how about we make a little deal, eh?" Frost continued to loaf along, barely at the speed of a drag racer, staying well below the radar horizon of his enemies as the Pulsar sprinted across the Great Plains of southern Colorado. Frost couldn't exactly feel each shuddering footfall, but he was used to numbness in his extremities, especially given all the injuries he'd suffered. It was all right... he could imagine well enough what it felt like. For him, where the difference between dream and reality was often imperceptible, the numbness of the Pulsar's control system was no handicap at all.

"What sort of deal, freak?" Mr. Machine sounded very suspicious of Frost. That hurt his feelings a little bit... he was the most brutally honest person alive. With an emphasis on brutally. He'd never lied once in his life. To anyone, even Pink and the Boytoy. Or Fiery Zala-Attha. Or Loser Zala-Attha. Or Scarface. Or the Blond Weeny and his chick. He'd never even lied to Little Ashino. He'd not told the Doc some things, but he'd never outright lied. Of course, Mr. Machine lied all the time, so he was probably used to other people lying too. It was sad. Dishonestly was such a sad thing. The world was a much better place when you could just tell everyone straight out what you wanted to do to them. That way, even when they complained about how he treated them, they didn't have any legs to stand on. Even before he touched them.

"The easy kind, Mr. Machine, that should make us both happy. You want me to hurry up, right? Well, I will. But you gotta do something for me, first."

"What do I have to do for you?" Mr. Machine sure could put a lot of arrogance and malice into simple words like "I" or "you". It was one of his few endearing qualities.

"It's very simple, Mr. Machine. Anyone can do it."

"Why am I not surprised that you would ask for something simple, that anyone could do." Again, with that loathing in "you". It was delicious. If only he could get Pink to talk like that.

"I want you to scream for me, Mr. Machine. I want you to cut something off for me and scream in agony while you do it. Nothing major, you understand. A finger. A toe. An ear maybe. Its better if there's a bone of some sort involved. The crunch as the knife cuts through the bone... oooh, it tingles my spine. Think of it as practice for when we finally meet up in person, Mr. Machine. The more you cut off now, yourself, the easier and quicker the end result will be for you. I'd ask you not to commit suicide though... limit yourself to become a quadrapelegic, please. But remember, the important part is the scream. Screams are how souls communicate with each other, did you know that, Mr. Machine? I'd dearly love to get a taste of your soul."

"I... I'm-I'm not going to m-maim myself for your twisted p-pleasure, freak!" Mr. Machine's voice was unsteady all of a sudden.

"Thats too bad, Mr. Machine. It is. Because, truth be told, I don't have anywhere to be just now. I could take a nap maybe. Or find some more animal friends to play with. You remember the animal friends, right? Their eyes are so sad when they die, Mr. Machine. So sad. They don't know why. I can't wait to hear how you plan on explaining to them why they had to die."

"You're going to die LONG before me, freak!" Mr. Machine was very angry now, Frost could tell. Mr. Machine's sore spot was animals. He loved animals. He was indifferent to people, but he really loved animals.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot, Mr. Machine. If you do decide to take up our little deal, I'd certainly appreciate it a whole lot more if you'd turn off the voice disguiser. I know you aren't a middle aged man, Mr. Machine. You don't have to hide from me like that. And, let me be honest... or honest again, as the case is... but the screams of a man and the screams of a young child... there is simply no comparison, Mr. Machine. None. Salt water and sweet drinks, thats what they are. I know. I'm a young child too, after all. In heart, if not necessarily mind and body. I just wanna play with you, Mr. Machine. You and everyone else. I just want us to all play the same game. Its a very fun game. You'd like it. I was your age once too. Maybe more than once. Its hard to tell, with what the Doc did to me."

"The game doesn't happen to involve murder does it?"

"Ooo... it might. I much prefer terms like extinction and genocide though. Those... and torment. Barbarity. Barbarity is an especially fun word. Say it. Barbarity! Its got a good ring to it." Frost looked around. "Lets see, lets see, lets see."

"If... if you will get back onto track... where you're supposed to be... I'll give you a reward." Mr. Machine said slowly.

"A reward, Mr. Machine? Bribery now, is it? I'm listening, by the way. Though, given your reluctance to scream for me, I'm wondering exactly what you intend to bribe me with..."

"I'll give you your enemies. The ones you hate so much. The ones who have caused you so much pain and problems."

"Give them to me, Mr. Machine? What, do you have them prisoner? Captive? Bound and gagged and waiting for my presence?"

"As good as. They, unlike you, have been dancing to my tune like good puppets, without even realizing it. They haven't left the palm of my hand since I first reached out and scooped them up."

"If you really do think that, Mr. Machine, you really are stupid."

"I am NOT stupid. I am the FURTHEST thing from stupid."

"Why would you "give them" to me though, Mr. Machine? From the way you talk about them, they are doing what you want them to do. Unlike me. One would think it would be the other way around... that you would be giving ME to THEM."

"Let me be honest with you, freak. You're nothing more than an experimental test subject to me. However, in order to get the results I want, I need to test your capabilities to their limits. I can best do that by setting you against your enemies and watching things go from there. Does my reasoning make sense to you now?"

"Mr. Machine, you should have said this a long time ago. I would have LEAPT at the chance to be your guinea pig like that. You do like guinea pig's too, right? Of course you do. You love all animals. Especially the cute and fuzzy ones. I have years of experience as a guinea pig, Mr. Machine. I would have done it for free before. Not now though. Now, I want you to give me what you promised."

"Very well then. What you seek is in Denver, along with what I seek. Is that sufficient motivation for you?"

"We have a deal, Mr. Machine. I'll trust you for the moment. Though if I get to Denver and find out you are lying, I will be quite wroth with you. I'll give you more than just a spanking, little boy."

"You can have them all except for the Clyne girl. I don't care about the rest of them. Though, if Kira does manage to kill you off, I won't be weeping any tears, understand."

"Neither will I, Mr. Machine, you may be surprised to learn. Neither will I, even though it won't happen like that. As for you having Pink... I'm afraid that is a logical impossibility, Mr. Machine. I really don't appreciate it when people try and change the deal on me after the fact. Pink is mine and mine alone. She has always been. If you have any sense of intelligence or self preservation, you WILL NOT get between me and Pink." Frost grated, his voice becoming absolutely deathly at the end.

Mr. Machine sighed heavily. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. You can have her too. What do I care? I'm just a little kid after all, right? What would I do with her?"

"There's no need for that, Mr. Machine. It's okay for you to like Pink. Boytoy does after all. So do many of you space monsters. Shes got quite the cult after all. Its just not okay for you to have her and not me, thats all. As for what you would do with her, that is a good point, Mr. Machine. I don't know why, but I get the feeling what you would do with her and what I will do with her shall likely be very different. She already has Boytoy, Mr. Machine. You're barking up the wrong tree if you think you have any chance there."

"We'll see. I'm only ten, almost eleven. I have a long, long, long life ahead of me. So does she. I'll ensure it. I've already taken some steps in that direction. Mr. Yamato on the other hand, now that I've run him through my tests, is dead weight. His only remaining purpose is to rid the world of trash like you, freak. After that, he'll become entirely expendable and something will happen to him someday."

"You don't quite pull off the murderer bit just yet, Mr. Machine. Nice try though. I appreciate you trying to think a little bit like me, but its really not you. Stick to your far reaching, evil genius plans. Leave the messy murders to me. We'll both be happier." Frost jumped into the air and took flight on his wings of raging fire. He rose rapidly to a height of several thousand feet. Enough to ensure that they couldn't possibly miss him. The transition between stillness and full on charge was satisfyingly abrupt... he merely willed it and it was so. He could feel his great, fiery heart beating strongly inside his chest, still, even now, mostly asleep. His claws prickled inside his fingers, and his forearms itched where the heated chains were coiled. The weight of the beam zweihander on his back was comforting and solid. Even the quaint beam saber launching crossbow apparatus felt right and natural next to its small quiver. His palms tickled with the restrained anti-matter fields of the Positron Reflectors, and his entire body tingled a little bit as the microscopicly tiny repair machines crawled up and down him in their millions. This... this was true life, not that sham life he felt in his weak and common flesh. He could taste the light. Feel the colors. Smell the sounds. Experience everything again, newer and better and forever.

He watched the tall, tombstone like towers of a major city get closer and closer with agonizing slowness. It took almost three minutes to reach the city from his previous location. Interminable. He'd have to do better next time. There was no whistling of wind in his ears... the whistling wind was almost a minute behind him. He looked down and admired, for a brief moment, the huge dust cloud and furrow-trench he was leaving in the ground, so far behind him. He didn't even have to touch something to destroy it now. It was like an aura. Images popped into his mind. Blips of heat and color. Targets. Prey. Six of them. Familiar looking ones. Like Boytoy's machine... no, lesser ones. Lesser ones and Ashino. Dear Ashino. Little Ashino. He hadn't played with Ashino in forever. It was time to get his little brother back into the game. For the last time. They hadn't detected him yet. Good. Surprise parties were ALWAYS the most fun. He could feel the the drugs and other things start pumping and circulating in his old body, but it was largely useless. His soul was already in direct connection. There could be no more sublime linkage.

There was a building in his way. Stupid building. Getting in his way. Bad idea, Mr. Building. Bad, bad, bad. Naughty buildings would get punished. He'd make Mr. Building bleed and fall over dead. Frost raised his hands and let the energy flow out in front of him, an impenetrable shield of crimson tinged energy fields. They crackled and sparked as they devoured the air... and then flashed novas of incredible colors as he plowed into and through Mr. Building's stomach without slowing in the slightest. Even as the screens went back to mere sparking, he clenched his hands and cut off the fields. His right hand snagged the zweihander and brought it up and off his back. His left hand remained open for the moment, his claws sliding out with neat "click-ick-ck-k-k" sounds. Frost swung the sword at the closest of the lesser Boytoy machines... Freedoms or whatever it was they were called. The head popped off and spun through the air. He batted at the playtoy with his left hand, and sent it careening away like a handball to crash into and through the front of another, older looking building. His claws retracted and he put both hands on the sword, even as he halted his charge and spun, redirecting himself into a new charge, ramming the sword into the chest of the decapitated Freedom, plucking the other machine off its feet with the force of the blow and dragging him along for a ride... at least until his arms and legs broke off and the torso blew up in a red and gold ball of cleansing fire.

Frost dropped to the ground, his feet kicking up clods of asphault, cars, bits of dirt and plenty of crimson showers as he used friction to slow himself down again. Once he'd slowed down to the speed of a racing car, he kicked off again, gleefully running along the side of a row of buildings before digging in his feet to launch himself in a diving flip back towards the prey, who were just now beginning to react to his destruction of the first. Frost didn't see Boytoy or the others anywhere... but having Ashino here for the moment was good enough. He could find the others later. After he had some fun with his little brother and his pals. Frost cackled with glee as he descended upon them from above, sword blazing, claws gleaming. This was indeed, his destiny.

--

"Yep, this is bad." Dearka groaned, pushing himself off the floor... where he'd tossed himself, and more importantly, Mir, pretty much as soon as the first explosive sound occured, even before the decapitated Gundam head came through the front of the building. They'd managed to avoid the clouds of flying debris, and more imporantly the shrapnel like shards of stone and wood that had reaped a bloody massacre amongst many people in the hall with slower reflexes. That was to say, most people, except for the Clyne Faction and Sai's guards. People closest to where the head had burst through the exterior wall had been shredded and pulped, scattered like broken dolls, while others, further away, had merely been riddled with stone shards like bullets or else impaled with spars and jags of wood through various parts... limbs, torsos, heads... there was blood, gory meat and excreta everywhere. Even the people around him hadn't escaped entirely unscathed.

Cagalli and Athrun were working on stemming the bleeding coming from Kisaka's head and lower left leg. Kisaka, for his part, was lying there like a log, completely unconscious at best. A large piece of stonework had struck him on the temple, and more, smaller shards had heavily lacerated his calf and ankle. Dearka noticed that Cagalli was also sporting a large gash on her head, though it looked more like the sort of injury one would get if one was suddenly thrown to the ground without expecting it, but she was ignoring it for the moment, blinking the blood out of her eyes as she worked on her guardian and foster father figure with frantic concentration. Alkire was also down, with what looked like a piece of a wooden chair leg impaled through his lower right thigh. His face was white with pain,but he didn't seem to be in real danger.

Among the Isolationists, Ramierez was down hard, jagged wooden splinters as big as Dearka's fingers sticking out of both his arms, both below and above the elbow. Sai looked to be unhurt, though he was looking a little dazed, probably because of hitting his head when Cyprus tackled him down. Cyprus himself was already back on his feet, much like Dearka was, though, unlike Dearka, he wasn't standing around in a slight daze. He was shouting orders and organizing people as best he could, ignoring several smaller wooden splinters embedded in his torso armor. Armor. That would have been a good idea. If only he didn't feel so... stunned. He should be getting organized too. Really. His attention caught on something. A laptop computer. With a black screen and three timers on it. The blue one still had lots of time on it. The white one was still at zero. But the red one was counting upwards. Thirty seconds. Thirty one. Thirty two. Thirty three. Thirty four. Dearka shook himself. He had to concentrate. He couldn't account for why his head was so fuzzy.

"You've got blood all over the back of your head, Dearka. You might want to sit down, before you fall down." Ysak commented, from the corner between the back wall and a pillar, where he'd dragged Katie in case any more debris started flying.

"Oh. Really?" Dearka touched the back of his head, which, now that he thought about it, WAS pretty sore. "OW!" He stared at his fingertips. Wet and red. Not good.

"Good instincts on throwing Miriallia down and covering her with your body. Next time though, cover YOUR head too. You took the seat of a broken chair right across the back of the skull. Glancing, I'm pretty sure, but it looked like it'll hurt, once you wake up enough to feel it." Ysak continued, smiling tightly.

"What about you?" Dearka swayed a bit as he slowly lowered himself to his hands and knees. He wondered where Miriallia was. It sounded like, from what Ysak said, she was fine... but he really wanted to see that for himself.

"Well, I would have probably been right in line for that chair seat, except you took it. Thanks, by the way."

"You welcome. Any time. Where Mir?"

"She's over there, dealing with the real emergency." Ysak nodded his head, a sour look on his face.

"Real 'mergency? Wha..." Dearka turned his head a bit too quickly and had to blink to clear his vision. Yep. Concussion. He'd had em before. He knew the signs. Clear vision didn't stop his stomach from doing a flip flop. Mir had a lot of blood on her. But it wasn't her blood. "Lacus!? Wha da hell!? How did Lacus get...?"

"Same way a lot of people got hit, dumbass. Flying debris."

"Yeah... but... Kira's... 'Ow did LACUS get hit?"

"You didn't see it then, I take it?" Ysak sounded positively ugly. It took Dearka a moment to realize his friend was almost enraged.

"No, wha happen?"

"Well, while you and me and Athrun and most everyone else was doing the right thing... grabbing important people and making sure they didn't get hit... Kira did something unexpected. He saved himself."

"He di' wha!? Thas not Kira!"

"Oh, I KNOW its not like Kira to do that. I don't think he intended to dive away from her and save himself. I think his reactions and instincts are A LOT more messed up than he was letting on, more messed up than he knows. He was FAST too. He hit the ground at least a half second before the rest of us did. Hell, I'm pretty sure he was GETTING BACK UP by the time most of us hit the ground. Cause he realized what happened. He went low and left, and Lacus was standing high and right. Right in the path of a bunch of flying glass shards."

"AGH! Is she...?"

"She's not dead. If you listen you can hear her talking. She's still concious and everything. Can't be fun though, with your face and torso and arms all cut up like that though. Its a good thing scars aren't permanent anymore... she'd have a few that would make mine look like a papercut. I'm pretty sure she managed to save the important things... eyes, ears, nose, etc... its just a lot of ugly, deep, painful cuts. Bloody. Frightening. I remember very well how painful glass cuts like that can be. Especially on your face. I don't think she realizes that Kira accidentally abandoned her... I think she just thinks he missed, or it was one of those things that was unavoidable."

"Wha abou' Kira?"

"Perfectly fine. Untouched even. And I think he's hurt the worst out of anyone still alive because of it. He saw the whole thing, just like I did. Except, he was close enough to get splatter. He ALMOST made it to her in time, too. He was CLOSE. Just not close enough."

"Where is he?"

"Look, I know you got your brain disconnected when it rattled around like a pea in your skull, but I need you to focus, Dearka. We NEED EVERYONE in the game here. Where the HELL do you think he is?"

"Oh, righ'. Didn' see 'im."

"You may be hurt worse than I thought if you missed Kira, with THAT expression on his face. Maybe you should lie down."

"O... No." Dearka forced himself to talk clearly. This wasn't the worst blow to the head he'd ever had. He was pretty sure. Besides, Ysak was right. They needed EVERYONE right now. "Just a little ringing in my ears. I'll be just fine. As long as I don't have to dance. Or sing."

"If I was you, I'd not bring up singing around Kira anytime soon. You're lucky you're a Stump, Dearka, and I don't mean like a tree. As a Newtype, you don't EVER want to hear Lacus Clyne scream in pain. Bad enough as a guy that knows her. Or even just a guy in general. You think I'd be this angry just by myself? I'm not angry at Kira either. Disgusted, a little... but its not his fault. I saw THAT fully clearly... his body didn't do what he wanted it to do. You'd be pissed off too, if you had to hear Lacus scream like I did. Girls shouldn't make noises like that. I'm really gonna hurt the guy who did that to her."

"Maybe you're picking up on Kira too. That's one hell of a look he's got on his face."

"Kira doesn't usually broadcast to me like that. It's possible though. That is one hell of a look."

"You guys have no idea what you're talking about. Bad? Bad, Ysak!? That was every bit as bad as hearing Chanel's echo. I knew... know she's powerful... but... never expected... THAT!" Katie's voice came to Dearka from behind Ysak's body, where she was apparently huddled. "As for Kira. Whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes." Katie swallowed hard. "You don't want to see what's in there."

"No, you don't." Kira's voice, raised in only slightly tremulous agreement, reached them. He wasn't looking at them, his eyes were only for Lacus, even as he pressed hastily made bandages composed of shirts and jackets to her face and chest, with gentle but steady pressure. "You probably don't want to look too far outside the building either, Katie. Looking at him can't be fun."

"Oh shit. You mean...?" Dearka gulped solidly.

"The Pulsar has claws on its hands." Kira jerked his head for a moment at the decapitated and mangled Freedom head across the foyer. "Also explains the loud noises... sonic booms. And the lack of warning the Isolationists had. By the time they'd confirmed his heat signal, he was on the outskirts of the city. I've heard three distinct mobile suit detonations as well. He's out there. Frost. I... I can feel him, a little bit, sometimes, in my head. Just like I could feel Rau at Jachin Due. Whatever he did to me... that blood... we've got a connection now. Tenuous, but its there, real enough. Real enough that I abandoned the person who means the most to me in her time of need without even thinking about it." Kira's voice was dead, and it wasn't hard to see the tears dripping down his face. "I was... I was just short... just like with Flay. Close enough to see it. Close enough to feel it. Not close enough to stop it. The only one of you who can possibly have any idea of what it felt like for me is Katie, and she was shielding herself. I wasn't. I was open, completely. Giving Lacus what support I could during our talk with Sai. I felt every last one of those shards of glass. But those were nothing compared to having to just watch it happen, helplessly. Because I'd abandoned her on first impulse."

"But it's not like you want..." Dearka tried to say.

"Shut up. Please, Dearka. Don't say anything. At all. I really, really don't feel much in control of myself right now. I'd hate to do something else I regret later." Kira slowly leaned down to touch his forehead to Lacus's. He whispered something to her, and she whispered something back. Dearka had to blink, because his vision went all blurry and strange for a moment. He felt an enormous emotion swell up inside him for a moment, but it was gone before he could identify it or even really realize what was happening. Kira bent over even more and kissed Lacus on the lips. He slowly lowered her head to the floor and stood up as Miriallia and Murrue moved back in to continue the first aid. Kira wiped something away from his lip and stared at the red droplets on his palm. That hand turned into a very white knuckled fist, so tightly it looked like Kira's fingernails had gouged his own flesh, because there was suddenly more blood droplets leaking from the fist. Kira relaxed the fist all at once and pressed his palm against the side of his leg to start staunching the bleeding.

Straightening fully, Kira turned and took several steps away from the rest of the Clyne Faction, towards where Sai and the Isolationist government were rapidly forming up and trying to organize a coherent response to the sudden attack. Vanai and her children were already being escorted away by a detachment of guards, and Sai was having a meeting with Cyprus and Sergeant-Major Glory, all their heads bowed slightly together. Kira walked right up to them, but they didn't, except for Glory, briefly, even look at him.

"Intel confirms that ninety percent of ZAFT's fleet strengths have left their defensive positions and are forming up into seperate fleets, which are indeed headed towards Earth orbit. We've not been able to pick out which ships contain the Angry Sky bombs just yet. We have analysts looking at the Clyne Faction disk now, they should have the projected attack locations for us shortly, so we can move forces to intercept as is appropriate." Cyprus was explaining. "We need to get you away from the chaotic situation here, Mr. President. We should head to NORAD Mountain as soon as possible, its the closest safe bunker."

"That's going to be kind of hard, if you're planning on going overland or by air." Kira interrupted, his voice very soft. "Because Zacharis Frost is outside, in the Pulsar, tearing the city and your troops apart like a lion hunting mice."

Sai breathed out heavily. "I was afraid it was something like that. Cyprus, do we have the forces to handle him here?"

"Yes sir, we do. We have nearly eighty squadrons of Crusaders and Dagger JA's in the area, along with multiple units of Cataphracts, Archmages and four SMS units. Plus Ashino and his squadron. It will be bloody, especially in the middle of a city, but we'll wear him down."

"Respectfully... no you fucking won't." Kira refuted. "Believe me. I've piloted that machine. If you thought what you've seen it do so far was at all a taxing of its abilities, you're deluding yourselves. You can send as many troops as you want at him, they're just going to be prey for him. He's not someone normal people can beat, in that machine. I hate saying this, because it goes AGAINST everything I've believed in... but there's certain required abilities to be able to fight him that your soldiers just don't have."

"And you do, I suppose?" Glory asked, arms folded across his chest.

"I do, yes. Unfortunately." Kira retorted. "As does Athrun and Dearka and Ysak. And Cagalli for that matter, much as it pains me to say it. You need to go and lead your people, I understand that, Sai. I'm offering my help, and that of the Clyne Faction. We won't fight ZAFT for you, but we'll be glad to help get rid of Frost. I just want one thing in return."

"I'm still not fully convinced I need your help for this Kira, but I'll bite. What do you want?" Sai asked.

"I want a cease fire between Earth and the PLANTS. I want everyone to sit back down at that table on the Moon, and talk things over civilly again, now that both sides have revealed their ultimate last resorts. Even with that data we gave you, Operation Overload has a very high chance of success. I think using the Angry Sky is wrong. I don't want them to do it. If it really comes down to it, I'll probabaly fight to stop it. But you can stop it much easier than I can, Sai. Just... try one more time for a peaceful resolution, that's what I'm asking for. Give and take. With the Angry Sky bombs, you have to realize the Isolation can't work. It's mutually assured destruction at best... destruction of the Earth only at worst... to continue with the Isolation like it is."

"You're not nearly as persuasive an arguer as Lacus, Kira. Maybe you should get her to try and sell this deal." Sai replied with a shake of his head. "With the data you gave us, I'm pretty sure we CAN stop the Angry Sky. And take care of Frost by ourselves too. Face it, Kira... your time has passed."

"Listen to me, please Sai. I don't know if the attack point data on that disk is accurate. The whole file was leaked to us, just like you got those timers. Someone is behind the scenes here, trying to use both of our forces for their own goal. Given the sophistication of the data virus you seem to have, and the fact that the Angry Sky data was basically given to us in the PLANTS, I think whoever is "helping" us is a Coordinator. In the end, that means their loyalty is probably to the PLANTS. Do you really think someone smart enough to set us up with data like this wouldn't have some sort of fail safe? I don't know any of this for sure... but I would, if I was them. Alternate attack points perhaps. Airburst detonations. I don't know, I don't think in terms of mass destruction."

"Hmm... you have something of a point there... but..." Sai hedged.

"I'd love to let Lacus do the talking on this Sai. She'd be much better than me for it. But I can't. Lacus is hurt. Badly. She needs to go to a hospital, soon. Think about it this way if you have to... I can't get Lacus to a hospital with Frost out there either. By helping you, I'm helping me. There, I have a selfish motive. Can you believe that I want to help you now?" Kira pressed.

"How'd Lacus get hurt? I thought she was with you?" Sai asked, surprised.

"She was." Kira gritted out. "I messed up. I couldn't recover in time to save her. This isn't my blood on me."

"Oh." Sai looked at his erstwhile friend for a long while. "Okay... no... no, I'm afraid I can't. I want to let you help, Kira. I can see that you really need to do something. But my forces can handle this. Just wait until the all clear is given. I'll make sure Lacus gets sent to the best hospital we can find. Priority." Sai was turning away when Kira's hand shot out and grabbed him by the shirt collar. Kira lifted and yanked Sai right off his feet and swung him around, pressing him none too gently against a nearby column. Cyprus and Glory reacted at once, with Glory dropping a meaty hand on each of Kira's shoulders, while Cyprus made a pistol appear in his hand as if by magic. Kira made it disappear as if by magic too, wrenching the weapon out of the Hellhound's hand and throwing it clean across the room with a backhand flick of his hand. That hand came up and around and gripped Glory by one wrist. And twisted, while applying pressure. Bones crunched and popped. Kira then repeated the grip and twist on the other hand.

"Don't press me right now. I'm not in the mood." Kira warned Cyprus, as Glory fell back, whimpering and grinding his teeth from the pain of the compound fractures in both wrists, inflicted before he could even begin to react. Kira noted the washed out look in Cyprus's eyes. A Natural with the SEED. Well, Cagalli had claimed that one time, but this one Kira could see for himself. Cyprus's hands, held flat like blades, chopped for his neck and speared for his sternum. Killing blows, designed to break the neck and stop the heart. Kira blocked the neck chop with his free hand, and kicked out with his toe into Cyprus's gut with enough force to lift the bigger, older man off his feet a little and throw him back a step, gasping for breath, hands pressed to his gut and ear. Kira saw the little silver roots growing and pulsing at the corners of his vision. "Stay away. I mean it. I don't wish to hurt you. But I can't always control myself these days. I really can't. I... I let Lacus get hurt, when I could have saved her. Easily. But I dived for my own cover first. Do you UNDERSTAND what that MEANS!? Do you UNDERSTAND how I FEEL!?"

"N-now K-kira... c-calm down..." Sai spluttered.

"I can't, Sai. I can't. Not while Frost is out there." Kira jiggled Sai just enough to inform him that he could do a lot worse. "I need my mobile suit, Sai. Where is it?"

"O-out of the q-question! You're not d-doing much to m-make me want to h-help you any m-more, Kira!"

Kira brought Sai down away from the column. Right up, face to face. So close their noses were almost touching. Certainly more than close enough for Sai to look full in Kira's eyes. "Where... is... the... Liberty?" Kira asked, slowly and very calmly.

"In an underground hanger. It's about a ten minute drive from here. All of your Clyne Faction machines are there. The research and development teams are having field days with them, but as far as I am aware, they should be in working order. We were going to distribute them to our own pilots." Cyprus spoke up, calm and centered as well. Kira turned his head to regard the grey haired, grey eyed Hellhound. So did Sai. "Put the President down, nice and easy. Or else I'll go find a hostage of my own, and I don't think you'll like my choice very much, Mr. Yamato."

"She would be a very poor choice indeed." Kira replied, not threatening. Just informing.

"Poor choices are sometimes the only ones that work." Cyprus replied evenly. "As you should well know, given what it is you are doing right now."

Kira considered that... and slowly let Sai back down onto his own feet. "Thank you then."

"Don't mention it. I don't like you, Mr. Yamato. I've seen what you can do, and I think you're the most massive waste of a human being's potential to ever live. You disappoint and disgust me deeply, on a personal level. But right now, you're right. We're losing troops far faster than I anticipated. Nothing we throw at him even gets close. Even Markov is on the ropes. As a fellow person who has fought Frost on a personal level, I should have known better. He isn't someone regular soldiers can handle. I let my experiences with the Pulsar on the Moon cloud my judgement. As long as the President doesn't have any problems with it, I'd like to provisionally agree to your deal."

"Well, I'd really prefer not to get choked and manhandled next time. But Cyprus has made some good points." Sai rubbed his throat and glared at Kira. "I'll talk with the PLANTS one more time. But I'm not going to bend over backwards just because of these EMP bombs. They're a danger, but I think we can still handle them. But nothing happens until Frost is defeated. He's the greater concern right now."

"Good. I'm... I'm glad to be on the same side with you again, Sai. Even if it is for the last time." Kira replied.

"I'd believe that more if you hadn't just been throttling me." Sai refused to look Kira in the face. "Get out of here. Cyprus will show you where to go."


	103. The Thawing Beast

Sweat dripped into Ashino's eyes, but he didn't dare blink to rid himself of the irritating, stinging sensation. He couldn't afford even that much distraction, though he was not currently engaged with the foe. He risked a glance at a secondary screen with a chronometer on it, checking his remaining ammunition levels at the same time. He still had almost eighty percent of his ammunition left. It had only been about six minutes since the enemy... since Frost, in the ZAFT Gundam... had appeared out of the late afternoon haze like a wight rising from a grave, utterly without warning or reason. It just felt like much longer because of the intensity of the battle. He was sweating, for god's sake. Sweating so much it was potentially distracting him. Even when he'd been surrounded and outmatched by the Clyne Faction in Panama, he hadn't been sweating like this. But then again, back then, he was just a simple soldier. A killing cog in the machine of war, only just barely starting to awaken to the pleasures of life as a real human being. Not so now. Now, he actually had things to lose. A future he wanted to explore. Friends. Family even. Places he wanted to go, things he wanted to see, people he wanted to meet. Now he was a commander, with literally hundreds of individual soldiers resting their own hopes, their own dreams and lives and worries on his decisions. And right at the moment, he couldn't do anything besides order them to remember their training, and hope for a miracle as they were butchered heedlessly and easily, like cattle packed into pens.

Ashino trotted the Independence forward, poking his head and sensors around a street corner. Gouges and divots had been ripped out of the buildings on both sides of the street... marks from beam blasts and cannon shells, craters of blackened stone and half molten metal. The asphault roadway was blitzed into crumbled ruins by more munition impacts and the pounding, widely spaced strides of the single assailant that had charged down the narrow corridor, running full tilt, laughing and irregarding of the streams of fire and violence being poured at him, to shred and mangle the now dismembered heap of Strike Dagger's and Cavalier's lying in a flaming jumble at the next intersection down. Four more soldiers dead. Fire still flickered in the rents and gaps torn in the armor of the wrecked mobile suits. This was relatively recent damage then... maybe a minute, probably less. It didn't mean anything... with the speed and maneuvering capabilities of the enemy machine, it could be outside the city in less than a minute. It could be anywhere... the next street over, all the way across town, even somewhere behind him. It was like playing hide and seek with a spirit of malice... every time you thought you were close you'd find yourself stung and disoriented, as the foe disappeared with such ease that he could only have been leading you on the entire time.

He and Cyprus had entirely underestimated the abilities of the ZAFT Gundam. He knew, abstractly, that it wasn't their fault for doing so, really. Cyprus had seen how the machine fought and handled with a Coordinator Ace at the controls, and had been mightily impressed and even a little frightened by the power, speed and agility demonstrated. But through tactics and new technology, the "unstoppable" Reaper had been seen off, easily enough. Ashino had seen it in action himself during the battle against the Clyne Faction outside of Orb, just before the Isolation of that nation. He'd seen a creation of such power and speed that it was entirely unwieldy... the machine was TOO fast, TOO maneuverable, TOO powerful even... so much that even with a pilot as skilled as Kira Yamato at the controls, it could not help but be somewhat awkward and balky. Destructive and devastating as an instrument of intimidation, yes. But nothing at all like this whirlwind of death they were fighting right now. He'd come to realize that it wasn't so much the technology of the machine that gave it such power... no, if that was the case then Kira, by most standards a superior pilot to Frost or even the original pilot, who presumably had trained on the machine extensively, would have been the ones that utilized the machine to the level Ashino was seeing now. It was the pilot that made the machine so exceptional, in this case more than any other.

Kira and the original pilot had been hampered in their efforts to control the machine because they were people who used their brains, their logic and reasoning ability to fight their battles. They made plans, used coherent tactics and fought with larger scale goals in mind... such as winning a battle or accomplishing a preset goal. To people like that, the Pulsar provided greater options than most mobile suits... more speed, more maneuverability, and the advantages of its powerful defensive shields. Ashino suspected that if the Pulsar had been designed with soley defensive mechanisms, and no offense whatsoever, that they never would have defeated it in the first place on the Moon, much less when Yamato was inside. Using the Pulsar as it was for defense would probably have worked just fine for logical, reason ruled people. But using the Pulsar for offense required an entirely different mindset. The Pulsar was too fast, too agile, too responsive for a reasoning, planning person to make full use of its offensive abilities. It could attack faster than the operator could plan attacks. By the time Kira or the first pilot had decided on a target, it was already past them. To use the Pulsar to its full offensive potential, you had to be the sort of person who lived entirely in the moment. Who lived life entirely by instinct, lashing out without thinking, planning or any sort of long term goal. You had to be like Frost. There had to be no difference between intent and action, or else the pilot would end up impeding and limiting the machine. Simply put, when attacking with the Pulsar, you could not have doubts. That was the difference between the other pilots and Frost, and the reason for the difference in the performance of the Pulsar. They had doubts, misgivings, hesitations, a greater plan to follow, whatever. Frost did not. He either acted or did not, with no in between.

"Sir... we're in trouble, aren't we?" Captain Kellson's voice was scratchy and strained over the radio. "He's in an entirely different league."

"We can't give up, Eric. We still have a massive numerical advantage. We have the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Combined Arms Divisions stationed in this area... the same amount of forces we had devoted to Isolating Orb. He's just one mobile suit. Just one insane freak of nature. It's a logical impossibility that he would defeat us all. He's a wounded bear, paws caught in the traps, lashing out at the hounds as they close in with pack tactics. He can destroy any one of us with ease... but together, we can be far more than he can compensate for. He can't kill us fast enough for him to outlast us."

"Uhh... sir, no disrespect, but I'm not so sure of that." Eric replied, thinking back to the initial contact between the enemy and them. One moment they'd all been standing there, quietly discussing what they thought the Clyne Faction was doing back on Earth while maintaining a watchful eye out... the next a building had practically exploded onto them and a Templar had just plain fucking disappeared. He still didn't know exactly what had happened to his juniormost guy... one moment he'd been standing there, the next there was a huge hole in the front of the capitol building and the Templar was gone, its status icon winking out as they were buffeted by hurricane winds and clouds of grit. He'd thought he'd heard an explosion, of the sort Mobile Suits tended to make when dying, but he couldn't be sure given the multiple sonic booms that had been battering them and throwing the Templars and Independence around like dolls in a tornado.

They hadn't even fully recovered themselves when the bastard came back, somehow descending on them from above. Two more Templars had bit the dust before Eric could even turn around, the most advanced mass produced mobile suits in the Isolation toppling like broken toys, each split neatly in half from crown to groin by some sort of beam edged weapon, likely the gargantuan sword. He'd barely caught a glimpse of a skeletal grey form that was too familiar to him... by the time he'd turned around to bring his weapons to bear, the enemy wasn't even on his scopes anymore... not even the long range radar. Another sonic boom had nearly knocked them down again as they'd been standing there. It was just like outside of Orb... the enemy didn't even have to touch them... just had to move nearby and they were nearly damaged and disoriented.

They both listened to several panicked... and very quickly cut off... reports from other units unfortunate enough to cross Frost's path. Quite where the BCPU was going... if he even had a goal or a plan and wasn't just wandering aimlessly, killing and destroying whatever pleased him along the way... wasn't evident. In a lot of ways, Frost wasn't the sort of person to have a set goal, regardless of his babbling about a "Destiny". That was just an excuse, Ashino believed. One more facet of Frost's psychological arsenal. It made people think there was a reason, a grand, sweeping, underlying reason behind all the madman's actions. There wasn't, Ashino knew. Frost was all about the means, not the ends. He didn't care what the ends were, as long as he got to employ his means in getting there. He was all about the journey, not the destination. Frost claimed never to lie, but Ashino didn't think that was the case. Frost lied to himself every time he talked about his great "destiny" that the Doc had given him. He was trying to fit himself into that narrow definition of a goal, but the Frost Ashino knew didn't have goals and didn't want to have them. He truly was just a being that lived from instant to instant. It was only his memories that kept him moving in even slightly recognizable directions.

Frost... the Frost Ashino knew, the one they were fighting now certainly, was much more like a force of nature than he was a human being. He was a hurricane, a tornado, a thunderstorm of cataclysmic proportions. Yes, there were reasons for the things he did... the way he acted. Or maybe not so much reasons as contributing factors... little things that were individually mostly harmless or only slightly tragic... that, when combined in their dozens, hundreds, even thousands mutated into something dark and terrible beyond the sum of its parts. What was that phrase the Doc had used that one time just before he died? A self sustaining emotional reaction? He'd been talking about Kira and the other Clyne Faction pilots at the time, but Ashino felt it was just as apt a description for Frost now. "This is Major Dibbs, 2nd CAD Cataphract Squadron three. We have engag-" The report cut off in a blizzard of static.

"Data plot shows the 2nd CAD units being in the Northwestern part of the defense perimeter, sir." Lieutenant Kissinger, the other surviving member of the 71st SMS, reported, her voice very shaky. This was her first time encountering Frost for real. Well, she'd seen him, a little bit, outside Orb... but there was a world of distance between seeing and hearing, and then fighting. Not that they were really doing much in that arena either. Which was probably making it worse... nothing like being confronted by something terrible, but finding yourself unable to even shoot at it fruitlessly to really kick your legs out from under you. "Do you want to... pursue?"

"We wouldn't get there in time, Ella... I mean, Lt." Eric spoke up, remembering his comm protocol in the last moment.

Ashino reflected on the somewhat odd tone he heard in Eric's voice. It seemed likely that this was that "girl trouble" situation Jean had hinted at. Interesting how things that didn't involve battle or fighting at all could pop up in the most harrowing of times. Ashino switched to an even more heavily encoded channel than the one they used for in-Squadron comms. Not that there was a particularly high chance that Frost was intercepting their communicatons... he didn't generally care that much... but it never hurt to be sure. "What's the status on the President?"

"Shaken but unharmed." Cyprus's somewhat breathless voice came back to him. "We have multiple casualties here and we need to move to a more secure location as soon as possible. Is it safe out there?"

"I have no visual on the enemy, and even if I did, I would still tell you that it is most definitely not a safe or secure situation out here. He could quite literally come at us from any direction at any time."

"How are our forces holding up? I'd imagine casualties were heavy during the first few minutes, but we've trained for shock scenario's like this... things should be getting organized out there by now." Cyprus sounded like he was in mild pain... which probabaly meant he'd been injured in some fashion that could be as serious as multiple broken bones on down, but Ashino knew better than to ask or express concern. Cyprus would do his job regardless of anything less than immediately life threatening injuries, the same as Ashino himself would. The only other people that even approached the level of disregard for self in the process of regard for others that Cyprus demonstrated were the Clyne Faction, at least that Ashino had encountered.

"Casualties were indeed heavy initially. I lost half of my own unit before I even realized we were under attack. I could not even make a coherent retaliation before the enemy was out of range again. We've not suffered any additional casualties in this unit in the time since then, though I believe this to be because Frost is involved in disrupting the situation elsewhere for the moment. Myself and the Independence should be a very tempting target for him... the only reason I can think of that he hasn't come after me again is that he still is, for whatever reason, not fully comfortable with fighting in that Mobile Suit. He's out "stretching" right now, so he doesn't suffer a sprain under stressful situations. Unfortunately, counter to our predictions, casualties have only grown heavier the longer our forces have had to group up and organize."

"Can we prevail with the forces we have?"

"I would like to say yes, eventually. But I cannot say that with certainty. Frost is utilizing that machine with far greater aptitude that either the original pilot or Kira Yamato. It is a machine that is very... well suited, I suppose would be the right way of saying it... for a BCPU. Especially one like Frost. It's a precise, maneuverable and very fast weapon that inflicts much more damage and terror than its purely physical aspects would normally indicate. Something like a straight razor, vs a gun."

"Between you and him...?

"Him, most definitely. I might be able to damage him, but it would be, as Thomas says, a toss up. The only viable strategy I see is to mass our forces, envelop him when he attacks us and overwhelm him with horde tactics and massed firepower. In that machine Frost is faster and more agile than he ever could be in the flesh... but he still can't dodge every bullet, and our data on the machine indicates it is very lightly armored. Even slight damage would significantly disrupt its ability to move at optimum levels. In an age where Mobile Suits are like walking tanks, his is a jet fighter, with all the strengths... and weaknesses that implies."

"Would reinforcements... qualified reinforcements... be helpful?" There was a strong hint of distaste in Cyprus's usually neutral inflection that more than sufficiently informed Ashino as to whom was being referred to.

"I dislike the idea of "The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend" just as much as you do, Cyprus. However, in this particular case, any help, any help at all, would be useful. I would even take help from ZAFT, or even, were he living, Asmodeus himself. The Clyne Faction has the longest even partially successful history of conflicts with Frost. Turning them down would be satisfying emotionally, but very damaging in a realistic sense. If nothing else, he would be sure to go after them first, allowing us that much more time to mass our forces for the killing strategy I mentioned before."

"Little Ashino... Little Ashino..." A new voice crackled over the international channel, audible to anyone with a functioning comm system within ten miles. "It's time to play, Little Ashino."

"Forces are being massed at Reaction Point Zulu Hotel. Draw him in that direction. The Clyne Faction will meet you there, estimated time, one zero minutes. The President and his party will commence their evacuation after the enemy is engaged at Zulu Hotel. Lieutentant Finch, out."

"Um, sir... I think we're in trouble..." Eric commented, his voice very dry and starting to crack a bit.

"Frost! Show yourself! Or are you really that afraid of me?" Ashino challenged, also on the international channel. "I know you, Frost! I know your crimes and heart better than anyone else still alive! You should be afraid of me, so called elder brother!"

"Afraid...?" Frost replied, the Pulsar suddenly alighting in their view once more, crouched like a gangly demon from the pits of the underworld on top of one of the mid sized skyscrapers about three blocks away. The gargantuan beam sword, its blade longer than the machine that wielded it was tall, dangled almost negligently in one hand, while the other arm's elbow was propped introspectively upon the Pulsar's knee, the still slightly twitching bodies of five Isolation pilots impaled upon the claws of the free hand fingers. "Little Ashino... I am FEAR!"

"SHOOT NOW!" Ashino ordered, bringing as many of his weapons to bear on the abomination as possible. He didn't even wait for target lock... there was no point with this target. He settled the crosshairs on the general area of the Pulsar and jammed down all his triggers. About a half second later, Eric and Ella also opened up with the full arsenals of their Templars. Blue-red plasma bolts, green energy beams, fat yellow railgun tracers and the duller orange flickers of shell tracers and missile exhausts filled the airspace between the three Isolation machines and the Pulsar's position. The top third of the building vanished in clouds of dust and smoke, as rippling red and gold explosions threw debris and shrapnel for dozens of meters in every direction. "SHIELD WALL!" Ashino directed after a full second of offense. The Independence's left arm pushed forward and a greenish-translucent field of energy flashed into being on the front face of his shield. The greenish field expanded and grew slightly more transparent as it interacted and linked with the fields from Ella's and Eric's Templars, though the shield wall itself was actually about 200 percent stronger than any individual Citadel shield.

Taller than the Templars, the Independence was still able to fire its shoulder and back mounted weaponry over the top edge of the shield wall, which protected the frontal one hundred and eighty degree arc of the three machines from their toes to head level on the Templars, leaving the head and shoulders of the Independence exposed. Although it was almost impossible to tell where the shield effect actually ended unless you were close enough to see the slight greenish tinge to the barrier fields, so Ashino felt confident enough that Frost wouldn't just blast his head off from afar. Besides, that would hardly be Frost's style at all. Missiles and wide green beams of plasma energy continued to rake the last known location of the Pulsar, though Ashino held little hope of them actually finding a target. He was unpleasantly surprised when the Pulsar appeared, directly to the front, firing itself out of the middle of the cauldron of destruction they'd created, sword held behind it in one hand, with the other hand held before it in a warding gesture, the barely visible reddish energy field projected from its palm easily absorbing beam blasts and missiles like they were gnats hitting a zapper field.

Ashino wondered just what that field was, that it could stop both energy and physical munitions with such ease. It didn't seem to actually deflect or divert incoming fire so much as it just negated it, missiles and shells vanishing in brief flashes of light, while plasma and other charged particle beams just dissolved away as soon as they encountered the reddish field edge. There was no splash effect, no detonation, no backwash... it was like shooting into a hole with no bottom. Ashino watched as all four of his 200mm high energy shoulder beam cannons converged their attacks upon Frost, who'd dropped the Pulsar to the ground and was bounding along like a demented Olympic hurdler, blazing orange sword edge cutting through the faces of the buildings to Frost's right, spilling the structures forward and down as he passed by in a blitz of sparks and torn up streets. The four thick greenish plasma bolts struck and there was a brief power spike, maybe a half a percent or so, likely less, in the enemy machine's reactor. The greenish beams died out and the power spike went away. That was enough firepower to destroy a capital space warship, and there'd barely been a fluctuation... Ashino was still gaping somewhat when the Pulsar put both hands on its sword and jumped the last thirty meters seperating them, bringing the two handed sword around in a roundhouse swing that probably could have bisected all three Isolationist machines.

That is, if the beam edge hadn't struck the nigh impenetrable energy field edge of Eric's Citadel shield with a huge shower of blue-purple sparks and small arcs of lightning and a cracking detonation like a thunderbolt landing nearby. Unlike whatever the Pulsar's defensive energy shield was, the Citadel Lightwave barrier didn't absorb incoming attacks... it just denied them entry past a certain point, a mass of solid energy harder than any diamond, a plane of force that could only be penetrated by focused energies several times greater than what was being pumped into powering it. Certainly the plasma edge of the Pulsar's sword wasn't near strong enough to cut through the field barrier edge, even with the force of the several hundred miles per hour charge behind it. That wasn't to say though that there was no impact felt... though the sword had been successfully, even easily, stopped, the kinetic force of an object striking another object was still imparted. Eric's Templar's arm shrieked and protested, hydraulic and physical shock absorbers screaming as they were compressed under the blow. Golden-yellow zig-zags raced across parts of the shield wall as Eric's shield fought to maintain alignment and linkage with the rest of the shield wall, successfully in the end. Their defense had held.

Frost was not impressed. This was hardly the first time he'd encountered the frustrating new shield technology of the Isolationists that day. It was a powerful defensive mechanism... but, like all shields, it had one gaping flaw. It only worked if you could put it between you and whatever it was you were trying to block. No sooner had his swing been halted than Frost spun in the opposite direction, hammering a second swing into the other side of the shield wall, sending more golden-yellow zig-zags through the fields as Ella's Templar shook and bucked under the kinetic impact. Frost saw the beam cannons on Ashnio's shoulders cant downards to aim at him... obviously the Isolationist shield didn't cover that high, if Ashino was trying to shoot him still. He could have struck up high, swiped the cannons and head of Ashino's Gundam off like a scythe harvesting wheat, but it wouldn't have been very fun. He didn't want this to be THAT easy. He was having a blast, after all. He used one hand to bring the sword back into a more neutral position while his other hand's Positron shield, nothing more than a thin membrane of magnetic fields with pure antimatter particles contained within, absorbed the four green beams with ease, the plasma atoms being annihilated as soon as they touched the field edge, just like everything else made of matter was. Just about the only thing his handy shields couldn't stop was light, strong magnetic fields or more antimatter.

"Fortress pattern, Turtle aspect!" Ashino ordered, as Frost backed off a few steps after making his two fruitless sword attacks. Even as he spoke, he crouched the Independence down to bring himself fully under protection from the shield wall... now that Frost had seen him shoot over it at him, Ashino didn't want to lose his head and shoulders to a vindictive swipe of that sword... while he also took a single step forward and altered the angle of his shield. To his sides, Ella and Eric likewise crouched their Mobile Suits down and altered the angles of their shields, while taking single sidesteps away from the Independence, so that they formed an equilateral triangle, actually a three sided polygon when you took into account the way the shields met overhead like a tepee. Now they were completely enclosed by the Citadel shield wall, protected equally on back, front, sides and top. They started moving slowly, a coordinated step at a time, towards Reaction Point Zulu Hotel, while Frost slowly circled their formation, occasionally hammering at them with his sword, while he tried to figure out how, quite literally, he was going to crack this little nut.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aww man... they look just like they did when we left them!" Dearka's complaint was only half a joke. "Well, I mean, they're fixed... but why didn't you people at least UPGRADE them a little bit? Huh? That's what you're SUPPOSED to do! That's what always happens in the movies and shows! The protagonists always get sweet new gear just before the final battles! What a gyp!"

"Perhaps you're forgetting, young man, but your machines were produced by Morganroete Armories." A nearby technician spoke up icily. "We've taken more new technology out of any given one of those Mobile Suits than the entire Isolation Research and Development Department has come up with on its own in almost a year! And these machines are more than a year old! If anyone should be complaining about getting screwed out of upgrades, it is us!"

"We've retrofitted those machines that carried shields with Citadel shields, but that's all we were able to do." Another, more senior technician added. "We were hesitant to tinker around too much with the capabilities of the machines as they were. This is stuff that has been designed by some of the best Coordinator minds ZAFT and Morganroete can field, by leading experts in the military technologies fields. There are systems mounted in some of these mobile suits that should NOT exist, and that we cannot reproduce, given OUR understanding of current technology! Things like the passive defense systems of the Righteous and Liberty, or the cloak on the Duelist. I hadn't realized, until we started looking at these captured machines, just how far ahead of the rest of the world Orb's military technology is. I shudder to think what might have happened if Orb had had a few more years to refine and explore the possibilities I've seen the groundwork for here!"

"Keep shuddering." Cagalli muttered under her breath, where she and Athrun were changing into flight suits a few paces away. "I'm going to make a point of financing Morganroete well enough that you bastards will NEVER catch up to our exhaust fumes, much less our actual technology!"

"I wonder what these guys would say if they'd seen what sort of things are in the Pulsar, even during our brief inspection of it?" Athrun replied darkly. "Even compared to just the power supply of the Pulsar, the Angel Halo's and Photon Cloak are child's play, technologically speaking. They're just outgrowths of technology Morganroete already constructed in the original GAT-X series Gundams. Its nothing to brag about, compared to a working fusion reactor or the hands free control system, regardless of its flaws."

"The flaws, yeah." Cagalli said quietly, shooting a concerned glance across the hanger towards the feet of the Liberty, where Kira was likewise suiting up. "You think he's... going to be okay?"

"I don't know. I'd like to say yes. That my experience with Kira, and his ability to deal with personal disaster and guilt, tells me that he'll be able to logic his way through things." Athrun said, equally quietly. "But I still don't know just how deeply he's been affected by what happened to him the last time he flew the Pulsar. Not to mention what Frost did to him afterwards. Acting on selfish instincts and the other physical and mental quirks we've all seen... who knows if this is as bad as it gets, or if this is all just the prelude. Not me, certainly. I'm still, personally, not one hundred percent on just what makes an "Ultimate" Coordinator so much different from any other Coordinator, beyond the fact of one hundred percent uninfluenced inheritance of the parent's skills and abilities."

"You think Lacus will be okay?" Cagalli switched tacks, though her concerned gaze still rested on her brother, who was looking grim enough to be surrounded by a black hole of evil energy, if such things could exist outside of games.

"I think Lacus is a lot stronger and more resilient than any of us, especially including Kira and me, give her credit for. You think she didn't see what happened? She was closer than anyone but him when he made his first reaction, and he was in plain view. But you saw her... she doesn't blame him at all. She won't ever blame him at all. Not for something like what happened. Remember... they are "connected", in that wierd, Newtype way. Regardless of what Kira's body did, she had to know what he was thinking and feeling, the whole time. No, I don't think theres going to be any problems on her end. And while her injuries are certainly not minor, they aren't life threatening either. Kisaka's cracked skull is a worse injury than Lacus's lacerations, and he was sitting up and conscious when we left. Besides, its not like she's alone... she's got Kisaka, Alkire, Murrue, Raine and Katie watching over her. She's a lot safer than we are, actually. And, speaking of that..."

"Shut up now, while you're ahead." Cagalli cut him off. "I know the risks as well as anyone. Better, even. Pretty much every time we've fought Frost, he's made a victim and a fool out of me, and come within inches of killing me several times. However, similar things have happened to Ysak, and even you and Kira. So don't try and talk me out of going out there and..." Cagalli was cut off when Athrun cupped her chin and turned her face around so he could kiss her on the lips.

"It's going to be wild and crazy out there." Athrun whispered when he let her go. "Like the last few minutes of Jachin Due and GENESIS. I need you to keep me grounded, okay? So I don't try something stupid again. You know how I get in really high stress situations. I'm counting on you to watch my back and keep me safe, okay?"

"Athrun..." Words failed her and Cagalli merely wrapped her arms around him in the fiercest and tightest hug she could manage.

Ysak snorted and averted his eyes from the two "royal lovebirds" as he and Katie sometimes now referred to them as. Always with the last minute romance, the tension fueled hormonal imbalance of two people who really, really shouldn't, in his opinion, despite their skills, be on the battlefield. Especially not THIS battlefield, a place where their entire philosophy, their "killing someone only makes people want to kill someone in return" endless cycle theory didn't have any influence on what they were going to do. They weren't going out to pacify a situation, or shoot down WMD's or end a threat to the entire human race. They were going out to put down a rabid beast, to kill a single insane psycho killer in a Gundam. This was a scenario of hunt and kill, seek and destroy without mercy or hesitation, becuse their foe certainly would have none.

_Oh shut up, you can kiss me later, you big sissy._ Katie's voice echoed in his mind. _Don't deny what you were REALLY thinking. Jealousy doesn't become you, Ysak. Especially not of them._

"I'm NOT jealous of them. Why would I be jealous of THEM!? What do THEY have that I DON'T!?" Ysak protested with a heavy frown. "The only person I'm jealous of at all is Kira. I find myself agreeing with that grey haired bastard soldier of Argyle's. If he really put his mind to being the best pilot he could be all the time, like he is right now, nobody else would even be close. You can argue that no one else is even close right now, but close is relative, and he could be a LOT farther ahead. But he doesn't WANT to, so he doesn't! It's like showing up to a gun range with a blindfold on! Doesn't matter how good you are or even if you can still hit the targets... you're not being as effective as you could be! It's like he's AFRAID to really try, except when he has to! And even then, he's not doing things as well as he COULD have, if he'd been TRYING ALL ALONG! He's MUCH worse than Athrun... Athrun just makes it all look easy, but he still tries hard at everything. I get the feeling that Kira isn't trying, most of the time. Not really anyway! Not when it comes to fighting!"

_You may have something there. But there isn't anything we can do about it. Even if he doesn't try all the time, he's certainly trying now. You be careful out there, Ysak. We've got a lot of time ahead of us, to do all sorts of the things you were trying not to think about when you saw Athrun and Cagalli making out. Voyeur._

"I'm coming back from this, don't worry. If only to make you regret ever accusing me of being an ATHRUN ZALA voyeur!"

"He's talking to himself again." Dearka observed, shaking his head slightly as Ysak continued to gesticulate and make faces at the Duelist's legs. "People are looking at him. Hell, I know what's going on, and I still think he's crazy!"

"Even if he wasn't talking to Katie, I don't think I could blame him. I think gibbering at the walls is perfectly fine, in this situation." Miriallia replied. "Last time we encountered Frost he was in a normal, if albeit high performance Mobile Suit. He still wiped the floor with most of us."

"It was give and take." Dearka protested. "I got him pretty damn good with that slick deflection shot!"

"That's what I mean. You blew off an arm and he started fighting BETTER than before. We took off pretty much his entire left side and he still was going to kill Cagalli if Kira hadn't shown up. Kira then proceeded to trash what was left of him like he was a novice. Now Frost is in the suit Kira used to do that."

"Suit's don't matter THAT much. Oh, they set the baseline abilities and options available, but its the PILOT that really makes a Gundam a Gundam, in my opinion." Dearka pointed out. "You could put Kira like he is right now into a freaking GINN and he'd probably figure out a way to beat the Grand Buster regardless. I'm not saying that this is going to be EASY, mind, but this is also the first time we've ALL sortied against Frost alone as a unified group too, you know. He's not unbeatable or invincible... remember the time in the jungle outside JIHAD! We nearly cooked his goose that time too! He's had more bad endings in our encounters than we have!"

"And what goes around has a bad habit of coming around." Miriallia retorted bleakly, her anxiety peaking. "And I'm pretty sure I might have a bit more difficulty dealing with some of the bad ends he lived through!"

"Well, what can I do about it?"

"You can't do anything about it, Dearka! Nobody can! I'm not ASKING you to do anything about it. I'm articulating my fears, thats all! Its a coping strategy!"

"Oh. Well I got a better coping strategy than that." Dearka leaned forward and kissed her, just like Athrun had done for Cagalli. Mir let him hold her for a moment before she pulled away a bit.

"That may work for Cagalli, but its not my thing. Appealing to my hormones before a battle just makes me feel a little nauseous." Miriallia pointed out.

"It was worth a shot. You're both from Orb after all."

"Why am I not surprised that you tried something like that based solely on that tiny similarity?" Miriallia couldn't help but grin and shake her head in exasperation. Perhaps that had been the point all along.

Kira finished putting his flight suit on, and rode the ascension wire up to the Liberty's cockpit. He wasted no time in entering and buckling himself in, shutting the hatch as soon as he sat down. Both because he was in a hurry to get launched and also because it provided relief from having to listen to his friends whisper, speculate and try and help each other cope with the pre-launch stress. It wasn't their fault he could hear everything that was being said in the hanger. Still, that didn't mean he liked eavesdropping, even unintentionally. Especially on Cagalli and Athrun's discussion. Well and good for them to wonder how he was doing, it was appreciated. But right now, he really, really didn't want to look too closely at his own mind and emotions. He was afraid of what sort of person might be in there, looking back at him. The sort of person who would selfishly protect himself rather than the person he loved. The sort of person that would resort to threats and physical violence against people helpless to stop him in order to get what he wanted. A person a good deal more like Frost than he wanted to admit.

It wasn't that Kira thought he was perfect. That he was never selfish, never got angry, never wanted to shout and scream and do whatever it took to get his way, to do what he considered right and proper. But he'd always been in control of what he actually did. He'd always been a reasoning person, acting with goals and plans and logic, even if it was only fragmentary at times. He'd thought he was a person in control of his own life, his own actions... in essence, in the parlance of some philosophies, that he was a thinking human being, who could control his instincts in order to best serve his priorities. Versus an animal, or beast or whatever, who couldn't control their instincts, who reacted to stimulus without concern for anything other than themselves. A human would deal with pain, would sacrifice themselves to save others that they considered important... more important than they considered themselves. A animal would save itself first, every time, regardless of the circumstances. And he'd gone and saved himself first, regardless of his intentions afterwards. It was a betrayal of everything he'd thought he was. Maybe he was holding himself to too high a standard, but that standard WAS his standard. And he'd failed to meet it. And Lacus had gotten hurt because of it. Those were the facts. He couldn't deny the facts now, not without compromising himself again. Not without betraying his standards again.

It was tempting to blame it all on outside factors. On the damage to his nervous system the Pulsar had inflicted. On the biological attack Frost's poisonous blood had initiated. But Kira knew there was more to it than that. A lot more to it than that. He'd been shocked before in his life, if never that badly. And he'd eaten things that weren't strictly edible, on childish dares and stuff like that. If trauma alone could account for the changes in himself and his biology and mind he was seeing, why hadn't something like this manifested right after he and the Strike had descended to Earth after the 8th fleet disaster? He'd been unconscious and sick for about as long after that as he had been from the Pulsar and Frost. Although, come to think of it, he'd never used the SEED until after that point. What was it that Mr. Waltfeld had called it during their first meeting? Berserker capability? An all consuming rage or emotional state of mind, where the body and mind didn't feel pain and could act beyond their normal limitiations... he'd looked it up later. No, the root cause of this, the common factor here... it was him. Something to do with being an Ultimate Coordinator. It was never fun when you realized that your own body and genetics were still potentially hiding secrets from you. Even less so when those secrets might end up getting the people closest to you hurt or killed. What WAS he? What WAS going on?

Right now he didn't have time to put anywhere near enough thought into it. Right now, he was Kira Yamato, pilot of the Liberty, member of the Clyne Faction and he had a job to do. A real animal to fight, besides the one locked down in his soul. A confrontation with someone who was as close to fully opposite of what he was as could be. Someone who stood for everything Kira and his friends opposed. Someone he had to defeat, in order to make Lacus... and the rest of the world... safe. The fate of the Earth, and most of humanity, he had little doubt, was resting on his ability... and his friends ability's... to defeat Frost. And while he hated killing... had always hated killing... always WOULD hate killing, in this case he couldn't see any other way to defeat the enemy. It left an ashen, bitter taste in his mouth and in his mind. In order to beat evil, you had to be a little evil yourself. Kira frowned and blinked as the silver threads in the corners of his vision knotted and twisted in his agitation for a few moments. He hadn't mentioned them to anyone else yet, not even Lacus. There was enough to worry about without bringing hallucinations, even vividly real ones, into matters. He gripped his controls firmly as the Liberty came to life around him.

"This is Kira Yamato. In the Liberty. I'm taking off."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're being stupid! You're letting them play you like a fish on a hook! I cannot believe how incredibly foolish you are acting!" Mr. Machine had been going on in a similar vein for quite some time. Pretty much ever since the first few seconds after Frost had started his attack on Denver, when he'd left Little Ashino and his buddies alone for a while, to stew in despair and confusion while he worked the kinks out of his spine on the even more pathetically helpless offerings the Isolationists thought were soldiers. So far the only soldiers he considered himself to have encountered were the two tagging along with Little Ashino. Everyone else was just meat on the hoof. Soldiers resisted and died. That is what distinguished them from offerings, who merely died. Oh, they might get a shot or two off, but it wasn't real resistance. It wasn't planned, or considered... it was panic and luck that they squeezed a trigger or were piloting a weapon at the time before their death. Offerings were fun to carve and slice, but soldiers were a great deal more engaging because they lasted long enough for THEM to actually have some fun too. To let the fear and hatred and rage seep out of their souls and flush through their meat and blood in a dark tide of life and joy. There were too few who got to truly live... was it any wonder he decided to devote more of his time to playing with them?

"You're being led away from the targets! They're going to get away! Its like they have you on a LEASH! Are you just going to LET them jerk you around like a dog on a chain!?" Mr. Machine sounded well and truly upset. Frost smiled. Good. It was more pleasant to listen to him when he was enraged and worried than when he was pretending to be calm and controlled and in charge. Unless Frost was much mistaken, Mr. Machine was actually jealous of Little Ashino and his playmates because they were holding Frost's attention so easily.

"That sounds like animal cruelty, Mr. Machine. Where would a sweet young boy like you hear such a term?" Frost commented, hammering delightedly at the slow moving fortress of impenetrable light that Little Ashino and company were cowering under. The results were the same as they had been for the past minutes. Showers of purple and blue sparks, loud noises, the golden-yellow zig-zags of the shields struggling to stay aligned under the kinetic impact of the sword blow... it was pleasingly pyrotechnic. As much as if not more so than actually hitting and cutting the Mobile Suits themselves would be. After all, Mobile Suits could only be explosively dismembered once... they were disappointingly like people in that fashion. "And who's going to get away again? Is there someone specific you'd like for me to attack?"

"Doesn't it bother you, knowing that while you're wasting time attacking a target you can't destroy that the enemy is organizing and massing up to attack you from all sides? That your enemies, the ones I promised you, are being ferried to their Mobile Suits in order to team up against you? That so many of the people you came here to kill are currently helpless to stop you, but are getting closer and closer to escaping with every passing second!?" Mr. Machine sounded positively hopping mad. Plainly he wanted some people dead, and soonish. Frost wondered what it was like to want. Judging from how Mr. Machine was acting, it wasn't very fun.

"Why should it bother me? Its what I desire most in the world right now. For them to team up, mass up, come at me all at once in a great seething horde. If they would do that for me, it would make me happy indeed. It's the reason I exist after all. Humanity needs a reason to unite, to work together. I am that reason. It would be best if ZAFT could be here as well, but one works with what materials one has, right, Mr. Machine? Besides, what do you care, Mr. Machine, what happens to me or why? I thought you were cheering for Boytoy to kill me? Are you not getting the experimental results you were asking for?"

"Regardless of the results I'm getting, it'll all be meaningless if you don't kill..." Mr. Machine trailed off. Clearly he was unwilling to explain himself any more than he had to. That was the problem with big plans... early on, they were often so delicate a single person not doing what they were supposed to at the right time could send it all crashing down. It was stupid of Mr. Machine to make that one person be Frost, one of the very few people who could never be relied upon to do anything they were supposed to do, at the right time or not. Frost pointed that out with a grin. "I can force you!" Mr. Machine threatened. "I'm the one in control here!"

"If that was really the case, Mr. Machine, we wouldn't be talking like this." Frost explained, as gently as he could manage. Some news needed to be broken with care. No need to crush ALL his hopes... just yet. "Its okay, Mr. Machine. You don't have to stop giving me orders or yelling at me for messing up your plans. It makes a very pleasant background music for me to play along with. Very nostalgic... Asmodeus and Cervantes used to do the same thing."

"Don't compare me to Naturals like them. They were children, barely more than babies, playing with things they could never understand!" Mr. Machine retorted, a new height of arrogance in his tone.

"Would it be crass of me, Mr. Machine, to point out that you are actually a child too?"

"I'm an Ultimate Coordinator. There is a vast difference."

"Right. Of course. You're God, and they aren't. How foolish of me not to realize it."

"You aren't nearly as funny as you think you are. And you aren't far wrong either, freak. I'm as much of a God as the human race will see for the conceivable future. I "am" the future of the human race, freak. I will re-make all of humankind into my image and we will enter a golden age."

"Um, no offense Mr. Machine, but if we're all like you... how are babies going to be made?" Frost pointed out the immediate, glaring flaw in Mr. Machine's vision. "It sounds like it might be a very short age, golden or otherwise. A single, very homosexual generation. Which is fine... I don't hate gay people. They die as easily as anyone else, after all."

"I don't expect you to be able to comprehend what I'm talking about." Mr. Machine's voice was cold. "It isn't the job of the tool to comprehend the beauty of the finished product. No, all a tool has to be is a means to an end. Of course, even in that you fail, so I'm not quite sure what that classifies you as. Congratulations, you have officially stumped the smartest being ever to exist."

"Temper, temper Mr. Machine. Your insults aren't making me feel very cooperative, you know." Frost brought the Pulsar to a halt, letting Little Ashino and his playmates continue to scrabble away from him like an indestructible bug. They rounded a corner and started heading out into a wider open area that was quickly filling up with all sorts of other Isolation troops and machines. So this was where everyone else had been. He'd been wondering why no one had come to help Little Ashino. Well, they were obliging enough to pack themselves into a can for him, he might as well let them continue. At least, for as long as it continued to bother Mr. Machine so much.

"They're getting away again." Mr. Machine pointed out petulantly. "You pursued them this whole way, wasting time you could better use elsewhere and now you let them go free. You really are useless. Don't you have any concept at all of planning or forethought or even a GOAL of some sort? Or are you just acting on whatever scatterbrained whim happens to cross your mind!?"

"It depends, Mr. Machine, on how I feel when I wake up in the morning. Somedays I'm just ALL about the goals. Other days, like today, I really just wanna kill stuff. Whatever crosses my plate will do. I'm in no rush now that I have this Gundam. With the Pulsar fully operational, I have the power to accomplish my Destiny any time I happen to set my mind to it. Perhaps you haven't noticed, Mr. Machine, but not everyone has sweeping goals to re-make mankind in their image. We aren't all evil little geniuses. Some of us are geniuses. Some of us are little. Some of us are just evil. And evil doesn't have a timetable, Mr. Machine. I just take things as they come to me. You should try it sometime. It's liberating." Frost recommended.

"Very well then, I shall. I see no further carrot and sticking will work with you. Its too bad, Mr. Frost. You could have had a lot of fun, as you understand it. All you had to do was play along a little bit. But no, you had to be childish and willfully erratic. This isn't my fault now, Mr. Frost. This is all your fault and your fault alone. It's been a dreadful bore, Mr. Frost. Good riddance."

"Mr. Machi-ARGGGHHHH!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Noah finished inputting the code that overloaded the Pulsar's action memory, sending five hundred volts and almost fifty amps of current coursing through Frost's entire body. A tenth of an amp, applied across the human body for merely a single second was enough to kill an average human being, even a Coordinator. Fifty amps was enough to cook a man like a microwave dinner. That's what happened to Uncle Jeremiah after all. And would have happened to Cousin Kira, if Noah hadn't been feeling generous. Frost would not be the recipient of any generosity, no, none at all. If he could have, Noah would have turned up the power even more. It was all the brute deserved, for the days of threats and posturing and willfull disobedience. He'd tried, he'd tried hard to be understanding. To make allowances for the unbalanced nature of the BCPU's mind. But everything had a limit, even the patience of an Ultimate Coordinator.

It was unfortunate... he'd really have liked to be able to get some data with Frost fighting against Kira and the other members of the Clyne Faction. Sure, he could and would get some data from setting his records of Frost against the records he'd taken from Kira's brief stint in the Pulsar, but setting two stored sets of action memory against each other just wasn't the same thing as having the two of them duke it out in real life. It wouldn't have any of the satisfaction of seeing a champion of reason and logic and pre-planned genetic design like Kira triumph over a sad, modified after the fact, pathetic Natural imitation like Frost. Noah watched the seconds tick by on his watch. The initial jolt should have sent the freak into instant cardiac arrest, but Noah wanted to be sure. Kira had been able to fight it for almost forty seconds, though only a few of those had been under full current flow. Still, for all his crudity and debasement, Zacharis Frost had proven time and again that his durability at least could not be condemned out of hand. It was somewhat risky, keeping the Pulsar's control circuits in overload status like this... there would be collateral damage to other circuits and programs, undoubtedly. That was okay though... the Pulsar had reached the end of its useful lifetime.

After ten seconds had elapsed, Noah cut the overload off and input another code. Naturally, any enemy who'd fought against the Pulsar would want to capture it if they could, to steal its technology for themselves. The code he'd just finished putting in would kick the Pulsar's Fuson Pulse Reactor up to three hundred percent power and disengage the cooling systems and containment fields the next time the cockpit door was opened. In a word, BOOM. For roughly a twentieth of a second, a star would come into existence, centered on the Pulsar and extending outward in all directions for a good five miles. The actual blast radius would be considerably larger, and the destroyed radius much larger still. It was too bad... he'd rather liked the look of the Rocky Mountains, and there just weren't going to be nearly as many of them afterwards. Or much else left of old Colorado for that matter. He hoped the Clyne Faction would be smart enough to get far away, but he steeled himself to accept their loss as well. It would hurt, losing some of the few people he judged ever able to actually understand him, but sometimes pain must be borne.

"All you had to do was kill Sai Argyle and the rest of the Isolation leadership! Is that so much to ask!? Is it!? Then I could avoided all this bother! With the Isolation in confusion, Operation Overload would have been stopped by the Clyne Faction, given the data I supplied them and the orbital forces the Isolation had left. If need be, I could have detonated the Angry Sky mechanisms before they reached their target areas... but it'd be pointless to do that now. No, its better to wipe the slate clean now, and pick up the pieces later. It'll add another decade or two to the transition time between the Cosmic Era and the Golden Age, but so be it, I guess. I was planning on having the Clyne Faction take the credit for saving the world... a small reward, I think, for the good turn Cousin Kira did for me, by being born first and getting all the flaws out of the process. I would have had to remove them later, of course, but I'm not the sort of monster who'd deny them happiness first. I much prefer euthenasia to murder, after all. But it was ALL RUINED by YOU, Mr. FROST!" Noah accused the dead thing in the Pulsar. "I hope you're happy!"

"I'm ecstatic, THANK YOU, MR. BORANDER!" The voice was thick and scratchy, but undeniably Zacharis Frost.

"W-what!? YOU'RE DEAD!" Noah protested, jerking away from his computer screen in a panic. "Y-y-y-you shou-should have be-been f-fried l-like a b-bu-bug!"

"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THAT'S THE FIRST TIME I'VE EVER HAD ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY!!? THAT NO ONE HAS EVER TRIED TO KILL ME BY ELECTROCUTING ME!? THAT THE DOC DIDN'T FORSEE SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPENING!? YOU MAKE ME CHUCKLE, MR. BORANDER!" It was more a full throated belly laugh. That went on, and on and on, way past the point where any human throat should have been able to handle it. "Short of head injury and fire, one of the leading causes of pilot death in combat is due to electrocution from shorted and deranged equipment, Mr. Borander! Human's do not conduct electricity very well at all, Mr. Borander. It takes a lot of current to kill a human... that good ole tenth of an amp. Still, many pieces of equipment common to Mobile Suits work with more than enough amperage to crisp a human like a french fry on an open stovetop. You'll have to do a lot better than THAT if you want to shock me, Mr. Borander. All your little joy buzzer managed to do was burn my hair and skin mostly off. Were I not surrounded by this nice hot gel of yours, I might be concerned for my health. But I am surrounded by this gel, Mr. Borander, and thus I don't have to worry about infections. My blood is already clotting, so I won't bleed out. My heart can restart itself, incidentally using some of that power you just shocked me with to do it. Besides... I've always been dead, Mr. Borander... I'm still just working out my How, like always."

"But y-your organs! Your nerves! They should be smoking ash!"

"Mr. Borander, Mr. Borander, Mr. Borander... didn't you ever talk with Doc? Do the words "Armored Organs" and "Redundant Systems" mean NOTHING to you? You burned me. Crisped my eyeball. Ignited some of my muscles. Lacerated my lungs with flash heated chunks of armor. You've knocked out most of my primary life support systems. However, my secondary systems will be more than enough to keep me functioning, especially in this very supportive environment of yours. I can keep going for days like this, Mr. Borander. I might even recover... I've surprised myself before. All you've done is take your best shot at me... and failed! Congratulations, Mr. Borander... you actually managed to HURT someone who believed he could FEEL NO PAIN! Care to GUESS what your PRIZE IS!?"

"How can y-you function!?"

"I am a force of nature, remember, Mr. Borander? I am a vengeful soul, stripped out of Hell by the Doc and implanted in a fleshy body! How can I function!? How!? I... DON'T... KNOW! But it MIGHT have something to do with your Gundam, Mr. Borander. I don't need eyes, Mr. Borander. The Pulsar see's for me. I don't need muscles to move anymore. I don't need lungs to breathe... my organs can absorb oxygen directly from my blood or other fluids... such as the gel around me. Anything your electric jolts can take away from me, your machine gives right back to me, Mr. Borander. I'm Mr. Machine now!"

'I c-can still destroy you!" Noah's hands darted for his keyboard. He'd blow the machine now. It was inelegant, but he could freely admit he was in panic mode right now. Once Frost was gone he'd be sure to think more clearly.

"No, Mr. Borander..." Noah ignored the freak as he typed in the overload code. He hit enter and sighed in relief. "... you can't." Frost finished. Noah stared at the screen in disbelief. The Pulsar's status icons were still transmitting data. It hadn't blown up. This was the first time he'd ever had a program not work. It shouldn't have happened. He heard Frost chuckle, dimly, as he typed the code in again and hit enter again. Nothing happened. The third try had the same results. "Confused, Mr. Borander? Didn't you hear me? I'm MR. MACHINE NOW! Didn't you know that BCPU stands for Biological COMPUTER Processing Unit!? Here's the funny thing about computers, Mr. Borander... when they're linked, signals can go BOTH ways... whether or not you want them to. I see that code you're trying to enter. Its appearing in my head every time you enter it. I AM the Pulsar now, Mr. Borander. And I don't WANT to blow up, thank you."

"That's impossi..." Noah trailed off. It wasn't. He thought of Melanie, in the Pink Haro. And the other girls he was cultivating as control circuits for other robotic lifeforms. The systems he'd used to translate their emotions and intelligence into electronic form were based completely on the NIC System from the Pulsar. All it would take would be a sufficient stimulation of the mind and the controlling emotions and... but that was impossible! He'd only managed to get the required level of activity by reaching in and forcibly stimulating Melanie's mind! That a mere electrocution could do the same thing was... Noah considered his few, brief tastes of Frost's mind, like when he'd extended himself to prevent him from destroying November Eight with the Judgement. Frost had been so open. More open than even a Latent, by far. So vulnerable that Noah had been able to influence him so easily, even from thousands of kilometers away. And the Pulsar's computers had more than enough capacity to hold a human intelligence as damaged and incomplete as Frost's. This was a definite oversight on his part. No one should have been able to live through the sort of trauma needed to turn THEMSELVES into action memory... but that didn't mean that if someone COULD that it wouldn't happen. He felt his stomach drop down into his toes, or so it felt.

"Nature finds a way, Mr. Borander. I think I saw that in a movie somewhere. I wish I could see your face right now, little boy. How DOES it feel, being the one to open Pandora's Box? Does it make you excited, knowing just HOW DOOMED you now are? You gave me your best shot, Mr. Borander. Shortly, I'll be showing you MINE. Now that I've WON this engaging little contest between us, I think it's about time I got back to killing some people. You just sit there and wait for me, Mr. Borander. Sit there and shiver and wet yourself and cry and WATCH as I show the whole of humanity just how DARK the dark side of human nature can get. Ciao... NOAH."

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"Is it just me, or is he acting different now?" Eric commented, his spirits much recovered now that he, Ella and Ashino had reached the relative safety of almost three regiments of Mobile Suits, mostly Cavaliers and Dagger JA's, but with at least ten more Templars and almost thirty Cataphracts. Plus thousands of infantry, mobile artillery and tanks. And plenty of air support. They even had two FRALA units set up, primed and waiting for the enemy to get pinned down behind a wall of fire so that they could slice the bastard into tiny pieces with their white hot beams. They had video proof that FRALA's could penetrate the defensive fields of the enemy machine, so that was what they were relying on now. Everyone else just had to get the bastard to sit still long enough for the FRALA units to ensure that their shots... which they could only do about once every fifty minutes in atmosphere... didn't miss. Because they weren't going to get a second chance most likely, one way or another.

"He's still acting crazy, so I don't see any difference there!" Ella retorted, fighting a shiver as she kept her weapons oriented at the intersection they had left the Pulsar at before they had crossed into the open parking lot area around the sports stadium where their forces were mustered. According to sensors, the Pulsar had not moved in almost three minutes and was still standing where it had been when it inexplicably left off attacking them. No one had approached it to discover why it had frozen... it was widely accepted that it was suicide to provoke action from this enemy.

"He's not acting like Frost." Ashino confirmed. "Or rather, he's acting like Frost only he's got his attention somewhere else right now. Where and why that is, is unguessable."

"What are we going to do if he realizes this is a trap? Well, I DON'T see how he CAN'T see that its a trap, but what will we do if he doesn't just charge into it like we think he will?" Eric asked, fingering his own firing controls nervously. "Sending units into the streets to flush him out will only give us more casualties again. He's one of those turds that just don't flush well."

"Thank you for THAT image, captain." Ella felt like rolling her eyes, but didn't dare take them off her screens. "When's the Clyne Faction going to ge-"

The Pulsar didn't jump around the corner. It came THROUGH the building it had been hiding behind like a bullet penetrating a piece of sheet glass. The Isolation forces were already set up in a large series of shield walls as a precaution against the inevitable attack, but despite the warnings from commanders and Ashino, no one was QUITE ready for the Pulsar to appear THAT FAST. It was like a time lapse photo with some slides missing... one moment calm, then suddenly the Pulsar was halfway to their position, seemingly with no transition period or events. In well under a second the Pulsar crashed through the building, accelerated to maximum cruising speed and crossed the distance between its old position and the Isolationist forces. Just before it reached the shield wall, the Pulsar altered course and went straight up, pulling off the ninety degree change in direction with barely any decceleration. There was no time for an attack, not even from a Frost as intimately linked with the Pulsar as he was. Unfortunately, he didn't need to attack.

The shockwave from the Pulsar's hyper-sonic maneuver struck the Isolationist shield wall like a battering ram, hard enough to knock several Mobile Suits completely over onto their backs and sending others reeling backwards or to the sides. In any case, it was more than enough to punch a wide gap in the outer shield wall, a gap which remained open for much longer than the three seconds it took for the Pulsar to come screaming down from the heavens, sword missing from its hands, claws and heat whips poised for extreme close range combat. The superheated heat whip chains snaked back and forth in a quick whiplash of blurred metal links and heat haze and three Cavaliers came apart at the waistline, with a Cataphract sent crashing backwards with two jagged holes punched in its upper torso. A Dagger turned, rifle in hand, only to discover that the limb had been ripped off, shortly before a foot came around and crushed the cockpit area like a tin can. Chaos spread rapidly through the tightly packed Isolation formations... there were so many allies in such close proximity that any sort of missed weapon discharge was sure to cause friendly fire damage, and anyone close enough to shoot only at the enemy didn't live anywhere close to long enough to actually take a shot.

With every sweep of his arms, Frost's claws sliced off limbs and heads, gashed open bodies and mangled weapons, while the heat whips bent and snaked like living things, entangling legs, punching through torsos and crushing armor into melted furrows wherever they touched. Panicked soldiers began opening fire, not caring that they were only shooting their own side... it was too terrifying to just sit there and die or watch your friends die. Better to do something, shoot back, even if you were only causing more damage to your side. At least it felt constructive. Assuming you weren't the person being blown apart by friendly fire that is. Within seconds there were more than two dozen Isolationist Mobile Suits down or destroyed, and the number was growing without showing any signs of stopping. A space was slowly being cleared around the section of the formation Frost had penetrated, but it was not a very organized effort... some commands were charging forward, hoping to overwhelm the foe with numbers, while others were trying to pull back and regroup into firing lines again.

Still, no matter how many Cavaliers and Dagger JA's crowded forward, shields to the front and swords held high, poised to stab or slash or even just contain the dervish that had thrown itself into their midst, no one managed to make more than a couple hesitant stabs, slashes or grabs, and most such attacks did more harm than good, damaging or destroying friendly forces on the other side of the enemy, or otherwise in close proximity to them. If the scene had been with live actors in a movie, it would have been one of those huge close quarters brawls, without room to lift or swing anything more than a fist or knife or knee unless you were a martial artist of the highest caliber. Or had huge claws on your hands and tendrils of superheated metal extnding from your wrists. Or had both advantages, much like Frost did. As far as mobile suits went, on a pure strength basis, the Pulsar was actually not all that strong... not too much stronger than the original Strike Gundam. Any one of the Cavaliers, assuming they managed to get a strong grip and solid position, could have overpowered the Pulsar in a contest of strength versus strength. The problem was the speed and the fact that the Pulsar seemed to be fairly made of blades or other destructive surfaces that would melt or slice off anything that tried to touch the Gundam or even got within about fifteen meters of it.

Within about thirty seconds, units had stopped pressing forward to engage the Pulsar, as commanders began to fully realize just how pointless that was... engaging the Pulsar in an extreme close quarters brawl was about as favorable a battlefield for the enemy as could be. On the other hand, they knew that now that the enemy was closely engaged with them, they couldn't let him retreat to long range either, because with his speed, maneuverability and defensive mechanisms he was all but invincible at ranges of more than a hundred and fifty meters or so. They had to find the tricky middle ground... out of physical reach, but close enough that gunfire and other ranged attacks wouldn't give the enemy time to dodge or evade. It wasn't a comfortable fighting environment for most Mobile Suit pilots, especially Naturals, for whom war had been a "shoot over the next hill" profession for centuries now, ever since the advent of guided weapon systems like missiles, or else extremely up close and bloody, like the infantry struggles against guerilla forces in urban combat settings, where there weren't commonly more than ten or fifteen feet between you and the enemy at the time of engagement. Unfortunately for most of the Isolation forces, their war machines had been designed with a "shoot over the next hill" ideology, with "extreme close range" as a backup and "middle ground" a distant third.

There was one ray of hope though. Or rather, several squadrons worth of them, because the Templars WERE designed for that "middle ground" as was Ashino's Independence Gundam. Armored with Phase Shift armor and Citadel Shields, bristling with high powered weaponry, the Templars and the Independence had the defensive maneuverability and armoring to survive close range attacks while retaining the offensive capability to overwhelm their opponents defenses at the same time. Or, at least that was the idea. Blue-red plasma blasts, yellow railgun tracers and green energy beams converged in a virtual deluge on the Pulsar and the area around it, chewing up the open ground, the paved streets and the buildings nearby with equal abandon. Dust and smoke rose in a towering plume as the Special Mobile Squadrons continued to pour their combined firepower at the last known position of the enemy. The remnants of the regular Mobile forces added their own cannons, missiles and beams after a few seconds, having had a moment or two to get a breather away from the constant terror of the close quarters assault.

"Tell me the FRALA units are in position!" Ashino demanded, his entire cockpit shaking with the recoil from continuous firing of all weapon systems. How could Cray possibly have LIKED this feeling, a part of his mind wondered? It was like being shaken inside a metal can next to a sound system turned up to full volume. He could barely hear himself talk, much less what anywone else was saying... it took more of his concentration than he liked to piece together the reply from the support units.

"We are in position and ready to fire, Commander. However, we have no target."

"No target!? He's right there... in that cloud, where we've got him pinned down!"

"We have no visuals on the target, sir! Other sensors aren't giving a coherent picture either, with all the heat and debris being created! We'd be shooting blind, sir!"

Ashino chewed his lip for a moment. On one hand, they were only ever going to get these two shots, most likely. He could save one if the first missed, but he felt it better to fire both at once... a single beam could be evaded by a nimble foe like Frost, wheras two beams at once would be almost impossible to dodge. On the other hand, every second they delayed now was one more second for Frost to break loose from the barrage that Ashino hoped was actually pinning him down. He hadn't seen any evidence to the contrary yet... Frost hadn't attacked or moved, as far of his sensors could detect. "Use your best guess. Fire now!"

"Sir?"

"You heard me! We're not going to get a better chance than this! Hurry and shoot him! Cut the entire block in half if you need to, but shoot him!" Ashino ordered fiercely, gritting his teeth and hoping he'd made the right choice. Firing at an enemy you couldn't see was a good way to miss... but letting a caged beast have the time to free itself from a trap was an equally bad proposition, wasn't it? Ashino didn't wait to hear the acknowledgment from the commander of the FRALA batteries before switching back to his most heavily encrypted channel. "Cyprus! If you're going to move the President and his family, do it NOW! We have him pinn..." Ashno's threat display suddenly chittered two things at him, and he stared in incomprehension at the monitor. The Independence was suddenly detecting a gigantic increase in electronic comm activity from the enemy, as well as a... threat from above? What could that... "DAMN IT! The sword!"

Before even Ashino's lightning quick thoughts and reactions could formulate a response to the new threat, it was already much too late. The massive beam zweihander of the Pulsar speared down out of the sky, finally reaching the ground after being thrown from several thousand feet up in the air during the Pulsar's initial attack run. The placement and timing of the attack were spot on perfect, with the great orange sided blade impaling the eastern FRALA unit like a knifetip through a beetle, severing the focusing chamber from the power supply and turning the carrier unit into so much melted scrap in the process. The FRALA unit went up like a bunker busting bomb, destroying several lighter vehicles parked nearby and even causing a mobile suit to stumble and nearly topple backwards in surprise. However, the sudden destruction of its sister weapon did not even slightly alter the course of the blue-white hot beam from the western FRALA platform, which slashed through the cloud of smoke and debris concealing the Pulsar on a rising diagonal that flowered into a purple-blue-white explosion about halfway through its approximatly second long firing sweep.

"YEAH! BITCH! Suck on THAT!" Eric cheered, punching his fist in the air in exuberance, accidentally cracking one of his tertiary screens in the process and bruising his hand. "We GOT you BA..."

The almost unrecognizably charred and melted remains of a Cataphract's Citadel shield sailed out of the smoke cloud, little more than a gutted collection of ash and scrap. Still, it was almost a half ton of metal, and its trajectory was far from unaimed. The remains of the shield impacted on the tip of the western FRALA's barrel, warping it several degrees out of true and causing widespread cracking of the delicate internal conduction paths. "... D!" Eric finished his shout of triumph, somewhat lamely.

"Cyprus! GET SAI OUT OF CAPITOL BUILDING! NOW!" Ashino yelled, bringing his crosshairs back over where he hoped the Pulsar still was. The damn smoke and dust... the Independence heeled sharply to the side as two of the Templars nearby, thankfully not from his Squadron, suddenly detonated in twin balls of fire and white hot metal, both victims of beam tipped projectiles fired through their torsos from... behind. "GET DO..." Ashino threw the Independence forward in an ungainly dive, arms spread, pushing Eric's Templar over as well. He rocked Lt. Kissinger's machine, but she wasn't standing as close to him, and that was all he managed to do. The rest of his warning was lost amid the destruction that followed his instinctive action, as the Pulsar, beam crossbow held in one hand, ripped its sword out of the wreckage of the FRALA and scythed down the three closest Templars, tightly packed into a firing line as they were, in a single horizontal swing of the sword.

"ELLA!" Eric screamed, staring in stunned disbelief at the inferno blossoming where her Templar had just been standing, where he'd just been standing too, if not for Ashino's nigh instantaneous reflexes. "NO!"

"I missed. How unfortunate. For you." Frost's voice echoed around Ashino's cockpit. For a too long moment, Ashino couldn't figure out where it was coming from... external noise was so loud there was no way his mic could be picking up a verbal broadcast... and his only open comm channel was... he stared in horror at his comm panel, which was still selected to the heavily encrypted line that went straight to Cyprus. "I was going to let you have the honor of paving the road to hell for your masters, little Ashino. Now, I guess they get to pave it for you, instead."

"CYPRUS!! GET OUT OF THERE! HE'S COMING!" Ashino's heart seemed to suddenly drop out of his toes and shoot into his mouth at the same time.

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"Are... are you sure you should be up, walking around like that?" Katie asked, watching Lacus pace, with a grimace of effort or pain on what was visible of her face through the bandages wrapped around her head, back and forth in front of the podium of one of the meeting rooms within the Capitol Building. Kisaka, a brace of sorts around his neck and a truly massive wad of bandages around his own head, was lying along the wall nearby with his upper torso propped up against the stage. Waltfeld and Murrue sat next to him, and they talked in low tones, going over what limited amount of intelligence they had and trying to formulate contingency plans. Alkire sat in a chair facing the doorway, his lips pursed in pain from the piece of wood still embedded in his leg, while Raine stood by the door, ostensibly guarding it... though against what, given they were unarmed in the middle of enemy territory, was questionable. Mostly she just traded cool glances with Corporal Ramierez and Sergeant-Major Glory, both wounded Hellhounds sitting at the far end of the meeting room table from the Clyne Faction, a radio laid on the table in front of them. Neither of the Isolationists was in any condition to stop the Clyne Faction members from leaving the room they been told to stay in... but neither was there really anywhere to go, considering the city was a war zone.

"I'm fairly sure I shouldn't be. I would like not to be. But conditions aren't what I like them to be." Lacus replied, her voice uncharacteristically clipped and flat. Part of that was almost certainly the pain from the deep lacerations she'd suffered from the glass, but Katie could not help but notice the slightly washed out look of Lacus's eyes and she sure as hell couldn't ignore the barely contained surging of Lacus's emotions on the psychic plane of things. "If I had my druthers... no, nevermind."

"You're making me nervous, Lacus." Katie said, after a few moments. "The pacing is bad enough on its own, but ah... well... you kinda... well, how do I put this... um, you're reminding me of that time outside of Orb..."

"I am in FULL control of myself, Katie, thank you." Lacus's voice was about as cool as Katie had ever heard it. "I have a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Well, I don't doubt you do... hell, we all do... but... um..." Katie tapped her fingers on the desk nervously. "I'm not really sure you're qualified to say that, Lacus. That you're in control, I mean. You sure don't FEEL very tightly controlled right now, you know? Not that I blame you! At ALL! I'd be angry too, I mean..."

"I'm not angry. At anyone. Especially not Kira." Lacus said, turning to pace away.

"I didn't say anything about Kira..." Katie tried to protest.

"You were thinking it." Lacus's voice did not hold a shred of doubt. "I don't have to be a Newtype to figure out what many of you are thinking on that score. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed. That any of you could think I'd be angry at Kira for something as inconsequential as what happened to me. You and Ysak especially should know better than to think that. Would you be angry at Ysak if he failed to protect you like that? When he was completely open to you through the link?"

"Well... angry wouldn't be the right term..." Katie replied slowly.

"I'm sad that our negotiations with Sai were hitting such difficulties, and I'm frankly terrified that Frost is now in control of that hideous mobile suit and I'm worried about everyone... myself and Kira among them and I'm frustrated that I can't do anything besides sit in this room and wish my face would stop hurting but UNLIKE outside of Orb I don't have a single iota of anger in me right now. That is what makes me say that I'm in control, Katie. If I was not in control... if I was doing the things, deep down, that I know won't help but would make ME, personally, feel better... those two men over there..." Lacus nodded at the Hellhounds. "Well... they wouldn't be sitting down shooting me suspicious looks, I can tell you that much. And President Argyle would be hopping like a frog on a frying pan in his haste to call a cease fire with the PLANTS."

"You really think you could force Sai to call a cease fire? Against his will?" Katie swallowed somewhat hard when Lacus glanced back at her, with a decidedly casual twist of her neck and shrug of her shoulders.

"I really think... that I'd better not try." Lacus said, barely above a whisper. "For the sake of my own sanity, amongst other things." Lacus paused for a short while. "It wouldn't do any good if I did, anyway. That man... Cyprus Finch... I can barely even touch him, much less manipulate him. And he would prevent Sai from doing anything out of character... which, sadly, calling a cease fire would be."

"Hey! What are you two plotting about over there?" Sergeant-Major Glory called. "Don't go whispering stuff about the LT and the President. It makes me twitchy. Pardon me saying so, but I don't trust you people or your intentions. I don't have anything against you personally, mind, but you ARE our enemies. Don't think I'm forgetting that, even in the current situation. Maybe even especially so, given the current situation. I recommend you sit your pretty, pink haired butt down in a chair and stay quiet, if you please, Ms. Clyne. I don't like picking on people, especially girls, especially, especially civilian girls... but if you keep setting off my threat senses, I'm going to knock you out for my own safety and peace of mind."

"Sergeant-Major, if you so much as BREATHE on Lacus in a harmful manner, Kira's gonna know about it, pretty much as soon as it happens. He already broke both your wrists, and he was trying not to be aggressive." Raine pointed out, with a small smile. "Touch her and he will DESTROY you."

"Kira has enough to worry about already." Lacus said, stopping her pacing and putting her hands on the back of a chair. "In truth, he and I are doing our best not to send each other too much right at the moment. We're both fuel for each other's fire, and we both need to keep clear heads, now more than ever. I'm sorry for causing you distress, Mr. Glory. And I'd like to apologize for what Kira did to your wrists... he regrets it terribly, I assure you. But please... don't threaten me or anyone else whom I am responsible for. Or I will knock YOU out for my own safety and peace of mind."

Glory barked out a short chuckle. "Holy crap, I have to say, you got some serious backbone, Ms. Clyne. It takes guts I can't even think of for someone like you to bluff like that to someone like me. Course, you're crazy if you think I'm going to take you seriously... I doubt you could even slow me down, much less knock me out, but..."

"Um, sarge-major..." Ramierez started to interject, his voice deeply uneasy.

"Stay out of this, Corporal."

"... I can't move my body, sarge-major." Ramierez's voice was extremely unhappy.

"What do you mean you can't move your... WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?" Glory shouted, his eyes blazing and mouth working... but the rest of his body stock still. "WHAT'S GOING ON!? I CAN'T MOVE MY... BO... DY..." Glory's gaze was swept up by Lacus's. "Holymotherofgod."

"I told you I wasn't making it up, sarge-major." Ramierez didn't sound too pleased, even if he was vindicated.

"Call for help, Corporal."

"I can't MOVE, sarge-major. The radio is completely out of reach."

"Neither can I. But you have less of a reputation to lose if you start screaming like a little girl in a haunted house." With extreme difficulty Glory tore his eyes away from Lacus's. "Okay. So you weren't bluffing. I get it. I don't know HOW, but I get it. Keep your creepy pink haired ass as FAR away from me as possible, please."

"Talk about keeping an audience riveted in their seats!" Katie whispered with a small grin, as Lacus relaxed her concentration and let the Hellhounds have their voluntary muscle control back. "You're going to have to show me how you do that sometime. I can't TELL you how useful it will be for keeping Ysak in line if I can just freeze him up like a popsicle."

"Please don't make jokes. I'm disgusted with myself right now." Lacus slumped against the chair a bit. "I guess you're right... I'm hardly the right person to be saying that I'm in control of myself or not."

"Lacus, if you weren't already hurt, I'd slap a little sense into you." Murrue suddenly spoke up. "You're a seventeen year old girl, don't forget. Most of your friends, including the one person who means the absolute world to you, are out risking their lives at this very moment, against a foe very few people have fought and lived. If you WERE in full control of yourself, then I'd think you were crazy. I'd be throwing myself against the walls and chewing my nails to the quick AT THE VERY LEAST if I were you! The fact that YOU aren't crying, given what you have to be going through, makes ME want to cry, because of what this situation is forcing you to do."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Captain Ramius, but..." Lacus's voice trailed off into a frown and a look of intense concentration.

"What? What's wrong?" Katie asked, somewhat anxiously, since her own senses hadn't been tripped at all yet.

"Kira's... close by. He's headed... this way." Lacus replied slowly, trying to resolve a clear communication from the veritable fireworks show Kira's mind was putting off. He wasn't trying to communicate with her... almost the opposite... but at such relatively close range, and given his state of extreme emotional distress, she couldn't help but pick up... but why would Kira be coming here? He was supposed to be with Athrun and the others, intercepting... Frost...

"Sergeant-Major! We're LEAVING!" The Hellhound's radio suddenly burst into life, crackling with background static from the volume. Lacus discerned a note of deep concern, almost panic, in the voice of the Hellhound commader. "Exit the building immediately and..."

"What's going on!?" Waltfeld and Alkire demanded almost at once.

Lacus and Katie had the answer for them. "It's FROST!" They shouted in unison, staggering backwards in identical flinches from the bruising emotional assault of the maniac's close proximity, mere instants before everyone in the building was knocked staggering from a massive shockwave traveling through the structure. The lights flickered and went out, slowly being replaced by red emergency lights as dust and pieces of structural material rained down from the ceiling, large cracks spreading throughout the walls and floor. The podium on the stage teetered and fell over with a splintering crash, nearly crushing Kisaka on the floor. The sound of tearing stone and ripping metal echoed around the room from two sources... one, mutedly, from the direction of the front of the building and two, more piercingly, if only for a brief time, from the Hellhound's radio. Lacus could have sworn she heard human screams mixed in with the cacophony coming through the radio before it went dead, but it might have just been echoes from the people in the room with her. She prayed that was what it was.

"Sir! Sir, what happened!? SIR!? LIEUTENANT!? WHAT HAPPENED!? IS THE PRESIDENT ALRIGHT!?" Sergeant-Major Glory was shouting into the radio, holding it so tightly in one hand that Lacus was almost sure the big man was going to shatter the metal casing, despite the pain of his broken wrists. Only static and feedback squealed from the radio. "CYPRUS! WHAT HAPPENED!? SAY SOMETHING! CYPRUS!? GODDAMNIT!"

"He's... he's right... right outside.." Katie whispered, huddled as far away from the front of the building as the room would allow her, head held in her hands as she struggled to keep her mental senses away from the abomination that was making the very air seem to bleed. "He's... he's in so much... pain. And so much... ecstasy..." Katie's voice shuddered with revulsion and she gagged, her body becoming physically ill with the sensations she was sensing. "What happened... to him? He was always... disgusting, but this... oh god, WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM!?"

"YOU'RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE!" Glory roared. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? WHAT HAPPENED!?" He slammed the radio down so hard it did break, Lacus could easily hear the crunch and crack of the internal circuits. "I'm going out there!"

"Don't!" Lacus commanded, infusing her voice with as much authority and power as she could, given that she too was fighting not to become physically ill from the overwhelming barrage from Frost... and also the Pulsar's... near presence. Glory stumbled and spun in midstride, mouth hanging open as he turned towards her. "He'll... he'll just kill you too. He doesn't know we're here. He's... gloating, right now."

"But the President... and Cyprus..." Glory mumbled.

"I can't sense them. I'm sorry... I'm..." Lacus spun around herself, feeling Kira suddenly flare up like a supernova. "KIRA!"

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Of the many things Kira would never want to see, Frost in the Pulsar, standing in front of the capitol building, or rather the recent wreckage of that edifice, which was where Lacus was, was among the worst of them. There was only one thing that kept him at all sane... and that was the undeniable connection to Lacus that he still felt in the back of his subconscious. Never before had he been so singularly glad he was a Newtype, because otherwise he wouldn't have been sure, like he was, that Lacus was not yet further harmed. Emphasis on not yet, since she was also, by his rough estimation, within about twenty five meters of the Pulsar, though Frost, from his placitude, obviosuly didn't seem to realize this. Kira forced his hands away from the triggers of his long range weapons. Though the Pulsar was well within range, and getting closer VERY quickly, and Kira was normally totally sure of his aim... he couldn't be now. The slightest mistake. The merest miscalculation. Even just a spot of bad luck, or underestimation even slightly of Frost's evasive capabilities on Kira's part and his attack... or Frost's retaliation... could very easily kill Lacus. No, he couldn't fire, not before he managed to force or lure the Pulsar to a safe distance. And he was still a good fifteen seconds away, which Frost, who could not help but be aware of the him, obviously planned to put to good use in enjoying his most recent bout of destruction.

It looked like pretty much the entire front half of the building had been sheared...or more likely, slashed... away from the rear half. The Pulsar was now kicking and stomping through the ruins, like a child smashing a sandcastle on the beach or knocking down a tower of building blocks with the singular focused intent of leaving not one stone standing atop another. It was almost like Frost was searching for something or someone in the wreckage, but there was a calmness, a... sense of relaxation about the search that made Kira sure that Frost wasn't looking for Lacus. Every other time Frost had come after her, he'd been driven into a berserk frenzy just by the thought of being able to kill her, and Kira could think of no reason why Frost would change that behavior now. The Pulsar froze as a pile of debris shifted near its feet... the remains of a desk and heavy table suddenly rising up and sliding away from where they had been seemingly strewn by Frost's devastating sword swing. Kira's camera's zoomed in on the people that staggered out from the cavity that the desk and table had covered, and his heart jumped into his mouth all over again.

"SAI! WATCH OUT! GET OUT OF THERE! NO!" Kira shouted, the Liberty's shield arm reaching futiley toward Sai, who was helping his wife clamber out of the cleft between two fallen stone pillars, since she had a young baby in each arm. Kira saw no sign of anyone else, though he could see but a snapshot of the wreckage, as his entire world seemed to contract to just Sai and his family, blinking in the sunlight, totally unaware of the fact that they were basically standing underneath the Pulsar. Kira was achingly familiar with this feeling... there was even another girl with flowing red hair this time as well. "NO! DON'T!" Kira's shield seemed to creep towards his former friend and his family at a snail's pace, though in reality he was only seconds away. Seconds was far too long, as the Pulsar switched its sword into one hand and popped five wicked looking claws out of the tips of its free fingers. "DAMN IT! SAAAAIII!"

The Pulsar's free hand slashed down in a blur, like a man swatting at gnats that had landed on a table in front of him. Sai and Vanai were just turning to see what had caused a sudden shadow to fall over them when the Pulsar's hand came down on top of them, the mono-molecular claws shearing through air, dust, stone, wood, flesh and bone with equal ease. Blood spurted through the air in thick streams and a haze of dust quickly obscured the impact point. The Pulsar shook its hand once, flicking droplets of crimson far and wide, and turned to face the Liberty and the other Clyne Faction machines with a sense of utmost indifference and boredom. That, as much as anything, as much as the death of a long time friend, even one like Sai, with their mixed history, was what drove Kira momentarily over the edge. The callousness. The cold blooded murder of an unarmed man, woman and their two young children by a mobile suit. It was exactly like a man stepping on bugs, the way Frost was acting. "NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN! NOOO! SAI! FROST!"


	104. Frostfire

It was odd, the sorts of things tht would cross your mind during times of extreme duress. There was a name for it, something fancy and multisyllabic and properly medically bland and almost unpronouncable if you didn't have a minor in Latin. He'd known it. But he was damned if he could think of it right now, when it was actually apt. Tunnel of light syndrome. Life flashes before your eyes-itis. Hallucinations brought upon by a near death experience. Where time seemed to slow down so much you could watch bullets spin through the air and seconds took years to count by on a watch, but you remained nothing more than a helpless observer to everything around you. He used to see it all the time, in action movies, or read about it, in all sorts of adventure and action novels. None of them had it quite right... probably because the people writing the novels or acting the characters either hadn't actualy experienced the phenomenon themselves, or if they had then they were unable to fully recreate it without subjecting themselves to the same conditions over again. They were right about one thing though... everything else seemed to be so slow... even such a long and sidewindy thought as he'd just had had taken less time than a single blink of his eyes. Or maybe it was just that his eyes took a long time to blink. They did feel unwontedly heavy.

Sai Argyle, youngest World President of the Earth Alliance Isolationists... well, only President, but youngest had a nice ring to it in the press... tried to sit up and take stock of his situation. He failed miserably. His entire body was numb, and he couldn't tell if he was injured or not. He couldn't move his arms or his legs, couldn't twitch his nose, couldn't wrinkle his forehead, couldn't even lift or turn his head. Or if he could do any of those things, his body wasn't sending him any sort of meaningful feedback, so he might as well not be doing it. Even rolling his eyes in his sockets was hard, and only the shifting in his admittedly blurry vision indicated that his eyes weren't frozen in place. Not that there was much to see. Blue sky, lightly streaked with thin white clouds, way up high in the stratosphere. Lower down, closer to the horizon line the bottom of his eye sockets represented, plumes of dark grey and pure black smoke shot skyward all around him, whipped into intricate vortices by a chilly wind that nonetheless didn't make him in the least cold, despite his lack of warm clothing. He only surmised it was chilly because he had faint memories of the day being slightly cold, in that far off time before he'd come to where he was. Whenever, wherever and however that was. His head was unaccountably fuzzy, and thinking straight was almost impossible. Little things he couldn't see or understand were nagging at him... important things, he was sure... but he just couldn't focus enough to draw them out of the chaotic background. Perhaps he'd hit his head. Strange that his head didn't hurt though.

A breath of wind passed over him, and brought a sharp scent to his nose. Warm and rich and metallic, with a very slight chemical tone. It took his struggling mind quite a while to place it. When he finally did, the resultant panicked realization helped clear his mind dramatically. He was smelling blood. And for him to be smelling it so clearly, there had to be quite a bit of it around. Exposed to the air, else he wouldn't be able to smell it. And exposed to the air meant it wasn't in a human body, where it was supposed to be. Blood out of body was bad, because humans needed blood to keep living. Recent memories started jamming themselves into his head, in no particular order, and he had to force himself to calm down and sort through them. Panicking would do no one any good. He was the World President. He was in charge. He was calm. He was about to leave the Denver Capitol Building, along with Cyprus, Vanai and his twin babies, Matthias and Jessi, to be hustled away by a secure, armed escort to NORAD Mountain in the Rocky Mountains, about a forty minute drive away. Then there'd been an alarming amount of noise suddenly streaming from Cyprus's radio, the one he'd been talking with Ashino on. That was the last thing Sai remembered clearly.

After the shouting from the radio, things grew much more confused. Cyprus was moving and shouting orders, a truly frightening expession of determination and concern on his normally guarded features. Something had shaken him badly, for him to look openly worried like that. Cyprus had just grabbed Sai by the upper arm and was pulling him towards the doorway that would lead out to the hallway that would take them to the exit where the convoy was soon to be waiting. Sai had had his arms around his wife, Vanai, who had her own arms full with the twins. The five of them had just been entering the hallway when a sound like a live snake being tossed onto a red hot frying pan, only a million times louder, assaulted them from only a few dozen meters away. At almost the same time, a rattling blast of concussive sound, too loud to be heard audibly but more than powerful enough vibrationally to blast out every window for a hundred meters in every direction slammed into the building with the force of a titan's punch, compounding with the massive structural damage caused by the Pulsar's ravening sword swing to shatter the building's foundation like it was made out of spun sugar. The floor had tilted sharply under them, causing them to all slide off their feet and go hurtling toward the nearest wall. Before they could strike it, the wall... and indeed the floor, ceiling and the rest of the building within sight... crumbled and broke apart into a mass of choking dust, heavy debris and black smoke.

Sai had a very vague recollection of being pushed... more like thrown... under some sort of heavy desk like object, but he couldn't be sure... once the building started collapsing, his memory went hazy indeed, and even what he could remember was too chaotic to make any sense out of. He did feel sure that he'd survived the collapse of the building relatively unharmed, as had Vanai, though Matthias and Jessi were wailing their heads off, distressed by the shockingly loud noises, bad smells and uncomfortable movements. Sai frowned, concentrating... he clearly remembered standing up from beneath whatever cover Cyprus had thrown him under during the building collapse, and he'd just been helping Vanai and the babies out from the pile of rubble as well. There hadn't been any sign of Cyprus, which was worrying... even if Sai would never believe that something as simple as a building collapse would be able to kill the redoubtable Cyprus Finch, many heroic men and women had succumbed to more ignomious fates before in history. Sai forced himself not to worry about it... if anyone could take care of themselves, Cyprus was that person. He and Vanai had just gotten into the clear, and had been looking around in shock at the smoking ruins of the Capitol Building, which looked like it had been leveled by a hurricane.

The sound of Mobile Suit thrusters had been loud in his ears, and Sai had been about to look up to see if he could find out where the sound were coming from, when a shadow had fallen over him and his family. From relatively nearby had come the sound of sharpened metal rasping lightly against more metal, the quiet whirr of mechanical and hydraulic systems and then a terrifying whistling sound as something heavy... and sharp sounding... slammed down on Sai and his family from above. He'd tried to look up, but he'd never even gotten close to seeing... whatever it was that had dropped on him and Vanai and the twins. The force of whatever it was that had fallen on them striking the ground had knocked Sai off his unsteady legs, though he felt sure he'd already been going down even before then. A huge cloud of dust and powdered stone had risen up around him, and then he was back where he was now, blinking languidedly up at the smoke streaked sky, nostrils full of the sickening stench of blood, barely able to do more than roll his eyes in their sockets. A tide of fear and worry rose up in him. Vanai! The twins! Where were they!? Were they safe!? His heart seemed to be trying to crawl up his throat, and he moaned in mixed fury and worry as he tried once again to sit up. The ground was hard, and now he could feel that it was cold and uneven as well. He had to get up. Had to find Vanai and his children. Had to make sure they were all right.

The ground shook and trembled beneath him, and he could see and feel rubble shifting around him as something enormous and heavy dropped out of the sky nearby... practically on top of him actually, massive blue and white and gold painted legs planting themselves firmly on either side of him. They were familiar legs, mechanical and gigantic though they were. Sai certainly had little difficulty recognizing them as belonging to the Liberty. And there was only one person Sai could think of that would pilot a Gundam like the Liberty towards a confrontation with the madman in the Pulsar. Kira had arrived, at last, and the rest of the Clyne Factin Mobile Suits couldn't be far behind. And about time too! Sai was fed up with his brave, selfless soldiers fighting hopelessly against a force they couldn't hope to measure up against in any sort of fair terms. Kira sure had cut it close enough this time, hadn't he? Sai had seen him make some last second saves before... and seen him miss a couple too, for that matter... but flying up JUST after a building collapsed on top of his allies was slicing it thin, even for Kira! If it hadn't been for Cyprus's quick thinking and actions, all Kira would be rescuing would be a puddle of blood and shredded organs, assuming there would even be that much left with a couple dozen tons of rubble on top of him.

The arrival of allied forces in the area gave Sai strength from some reservoir he hadn't been aware he had, and he slowly managed to push himself up to a sort of sitting position using his arms, though it was more just a leaning position with his back propped up against the nearest piece of large debris. It was the best he could manage, given that his legs were still stubbornly refusing to respond... or even acknowledge that they were there at all. They were... he'd felt too much friction and resistance during his pathetically limited movement for them to be gone... and he was still alive to move, which almost certainly wouldn't be the case if he'd lost both legs. He couldn't hear anything now, even though he knew Kira and the Liberty were right on top of him, and there had to be a half dozen other Mobile Suits within a few block radius flying or running about, but for the moment he seemed to be deafened. Not that surprising, considering all that had happened to him... he just hoped it was temporary, because otherwise it would be such a terrible inconvenience later on.

His thoughts came to a schreeching halt as he put his hand down by his side and felt a pool of warm wetness starting to spread beneath him. He stared in horror at his hand, which was covered from fingertips to wrist in scarlet fluid. Well, now he knew why he'd smelled... and was still smelling... blood. He seemed to be bleeding pretty badly, even if he couldn't feel it. He instantly recognized that this was a bad sign, and realized that he really probably shouldn't have moved himself before discovering the extent of his injuries. For there to be this much blood beneath him, given that he'd only moved a second or two ago, meant that there had to be a very serious injury involved, even if he couldn't feel it. He was shocked at his own dispassion... he'd have expected to be in a panic, since bleeding to death was probably something he'd be doing shortly now, if he didn't get serious medical help... the lack of pain and sound was making everything seem dreamy. Or maybe it was just the blood loss... he was surprised he was still conscious... he must have been lying on the wound, keeping the bleeding to a relative minimum before.

Sai probed the wound as best he could with one hand, shivering in disgust and concern as his hands passed over wet skin, wetter muscle and delved deep into his lower back torso before encountering roughened bone edges. He concluded, based on his admittedly limited knoweldge of human anatomy, that his lower spine was broken or shattered in at least one spot, with the possibility of other breakages or fractures below his waist as well. He couldn't force himself to look... he'd never had a strong stomach for blood and mangled flesh. He was glad the principle wound was on his back, so he didn't have to see his torn skin and blood and bones and... he shuddered, feeling like he was going to vomit from lightheadedness. The urge to vomit slowly faded, but the lightheadedness wasn't going away, and he recognized it was a precursor to unconsciousness from low blood pressure due to his blood not being in his body like it should be. Instead of looking down at himself, Sai angled his head from side to side so he could take stock of his surroundings. There was someone next to him, almost within arms reach...

When Sai finally managed to get his head around to where he could see who that someone was, he did vomit, and he kept vomiting until he was throwing up blood and gagging on the dry heaves. Not only because of the state of the body, which was terrible beyond words, but because of who it was that was lying there, broken and bloody and barely more than a pile of bloody bones and pulped flesh. He could only tell that it was Vanai because of the red hair, redder even than the blood that soaked the ground around her in a miniature ocean, that fell like a waterfall from the back of the head that was turned away from him. She was lying face down, her limbs twisted into unnatural positions, her body crushed like a bug beneath a boot-heel, as if a monstrous weight had smashed her down. But not only did her body... not even Sai could delude himself into thinking she was still alive, no matter how much he wanted to, given the sight before his eyes... show evidence of massive blunt force trauma, there were also four great slices in her limp form. Long, jarringly straight and evenly spaced cuts, looking like the sort of deep incisions a surgical scapel would make... assuming it was the size of a sword and swung with blurring force. One had seperated her legs at the knees, another sliced her in twain at the waist, a third bisected her chest and the last had taken the top of her skull and face off and sent it flying somewhere out of sight, leaving her brain to leak from the bony container in a sodden grey mass.

Of Matthias, his baby son and Jessi, his baby daughter, there was no sign... but they had been in Vanai's arms just before whatever had struck and killed her did so, nearly killing Sai in the process. He wanted to believe that they were still alive... with every fiber of his being he wanted to believe that! But given the wreckage of Vanai, his wife and truest love, Sai's unrelentingly logical and analytical nature would not allow himself the luxury of that hope for long. His children were dead. Crushed, mangled, shredded by whatever had destroyed their mother and sliced into his back, shattering his spine and leaving him lying useless on the ground, rapidly dying from blood loss. He couldn't see their bodies, and was glad for it... bad enough that he had to look at himself, and the fleshy ruin that Vanai had been turned into... he could not have borne seeing his babies lying in such a state. His imagination was torment enough. The bottom of the world seemed to spiral away into nothingness, and Sai felt the sensation of falling. His vision blurred, and it took him a while to realize through the tears of despair and loss that he'd fallen over, leaving a huge streak of gore on the rubble he'd been leaning on. He didn't have long left.

Sai scrabbled and clawed at the ground with his arms. If he was going to die, he was damned well going to do it with his wife in his arms! He wouldn't let her and the babies go alone! He didn't WANT to live without his family. Without Matthias and Jessi, the cores of his heart and soul, or without Vanai, the girl who'd made his entire life worth living, without whom he'd have just been another sullen former soldier, trudging through the lifestyle of a moderately wealthy white collar drudge, LIFE WAS POINTLESS! Life without happiness was just death without a coffin! And without Vanai and his children, there could be no happiness for Sai. He was utterly sure of that! He whispered apologies and pleas for forgiveness he couldn't hear as he slowly inched his way along, dragging his lower body sluggishly behind him, leaving a bright, wet trail in the dust as he did so. The world was swimming all over the place, and now he couldn't feel his arms again. Or his head. Or his body. But the one thing he wished he COULDN'T feel anymore, his broken heart, seemed to be taking in all the pain from the rest of his body and magnifying it beyond endurance!

Sai's world faded to a blackness far more profound than simple unconsciousness, the last light he beheld before succumbing to the irresistable call of blood loss being the incandescent flash of igniting beam swords. His reaching hand fell lightly onto Vanai's closest shoulder. "I... love... ... you... ... Van... ai... sorry..." Sai whispered, before his head lolled limply in the dust.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of the shrieking alarms and thunderous announcements of the ship wide comm brought Shinn straight from the depths of one of the more pleasant dreams he'd had in months back into full brutal reality. It had been the first time in a long time when his sleep hadn't been at least lightly plagued by memories of the personal tragedy that he'd suffered, where the mangled and torn apart bodies of his parents and little sister were strewn across hillsides and all over his quarters or inside his cockpit or other, less fun places. No, perhaps because of the massively accelerated training schedule that he'd been working under in preparation for this operation, perhaps because he was about to go into such life threatening danger that he couldn't spare any thoughts for the past, perhaps just through simple fortune, tonight had been nice and restful, with his thoughts focusing on green hills and running water and puffy white clouds and super high scores on all his tests in the elite ZAFT Acadamy when he was finally allowed to go. Until the aforementioned raid sirens and shouting over the ship wide comm system. Given his choice of ways to wake up, it was down there near the bottom, only beat out by such truly horrid things as hard vacuum, cold water or the "you're three hours late for duty" alarm on his cell phone.

"SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! ALL PERSONNEL TO LEVEL ONE BATTLESTATIONS! ALL PILOTS REPORT TO THE FLIGHT DECK IMMEDIATELY! REPEAT... THIS IS NOT A DRILL! SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE!" The message was being broadcast over and over again at a volume loud enough to blast his hair over to one side of his head if he got too near the speaker, or so it felt. Louder still was the slowly rising and falling wail of the sirens, which by their very precisely calibrated nature sent subconscious shivers of fear and wakefulness directly into the more instinctual sides of his brain. ZAFT raid sirens were quite literally impossible to sleep through unless you were drugged or physically knocked out. They also could cause hearing damage over prolonged exposures, so they were almost never used at full volume in drills. Most shipboard casualties didn't warrant their use either, unless it was something that directly and immediately affected the safety of the ship, or something equally important. Shinn lept out of bed so quickly he whacked his head on the bottom of the bed above his, but he didn't stop to rub his head, or even get dressed. Ignoring the stinging of his skull, he dashed for the door, only a few steps ahead of the other three pilots that shared the junior aerospace officer quarters with him.

Shinn charged out into the hall and quite literally bowled someone over as they were hurrying down the passageway. Shinn registered the collision with the rather softer and more yielding person he'd run over and he reacted in almost the same instant, putting himself between her and the wall. Even in microgravity, falling into the wall could still hurt... especially if you happened to get there because someone else wasn't watching where they were going and ran you down. He wished he had the time to apologize properly, but the comm system was still broadcasting it's dire warnings and the raid sirens were still blaring, so loud out in the passageways that it was hard to hear yourself think. He wished someone would turn the fucking things off... if anyone was still asleep right now, then they'd not wake up if you stabbed em with a knife anyway! Shinn pushed himself away from the wall, releasing his arms from the red haired girl whom he'd just run over, who was giving him a glare that oscillated between fuming indignance and restrained amusement.

Shinn could understand the indignance, given the circumstances, but amusement puzzled him. At least until he took in situation more fully, the red haired girl in her green tunic, garrison cover and skirt, standard shipboard uniform for female ZAFT soldiers, though the hat was only required when on duty, so she must have just gotten off or was just about to go on when the... whatever was happening happened. Then there was him, Shinn Asuka... clad only in his boxer briefs that he'd been sleeping in, without even socks on his feet, his hair even wilder and more spiky than usual, panting for breath and rubbing a bruise on one temple... he was lucky that this WASN'T a drill, cause he was suddenly aware that he looked like a TOTAL disgrace right now! At least he was wearing regulation boxers and not the gag gift ones his flight crew had bought for him... the ones with the cartoon Ginn prints were comfortable as hell, but red and blue and purple Ginns were a bit... colorful for a soldier's underwear. At that moment, someone on the bridge finally decided that the raid siren was doing more harm than good, and mercifully switched it off.

"Umm, sorry about that." Shinn coughed, his face flushing. Great going on his part. He just had to jump out of bed, mostly nude, jump out the door and crash into a girl, drive her into the wall and hug her. He was never going to hear the end of this, since he'd done it in plain view of his three roomates. Not only that but she was a CUTE girl, of about his own age if he was any judge. The ZAFT garrison uniform wasn't perhaps the best for showing off a girl's figure, but then again he'd had his arms around her pretty tight and... Shinn realized where his thoughts were going and forced himself, with some effort, to stop. There was an honest to God EMERGENCY going on and he was getting distracted by this girl, who was still looking him up and down, seemingly having decided on amusement rather than fury. Being fifteen sure sucked sometimes... it felt like he wasn't in control of his own body... ESPECIALLY around girls. At least he didn't generally get tongue tied. "I was in a hurry and all, to get down to flight decks. Still need to do that actually, so, sorry for running into you, but I need to get moving." Shinn pushed off from the wall and angled himself towards the ladderway that would lead to the hangers.

He was aware after a turn or two that the girl was following him, a determined look on her face. He paused at an intersection and waited for her to catch up to him. "Look, I said I was sorry... there's something up, I don't know what, and I'm in a big hurry to get to my Mobile Suit, so if we can leave the scolding for later that'd be..." Shinn started to complain.

"Apology accepted." The girl replied with a bemused shake of her head. "I guess you didn't hear me when I said it the first time. Of course, you were busy playing wall cushion at the time too, so I guess I can understand." She paused a moment at the intersection with him, as they both waited for a second or two for a rush of mechanics heading the other way to go by. "I'm headed to my Mobile Suit as well, in case you were thinking I was following you... during an EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT... to chew you out. So rest easy and don't think so much of yourself...?"

"Shinn. Shinn Asuka, Pilot First Class." Shinn supplied, after he realized she was fishing for his name, since she obviously couldn't read it off his uniform.

"Pilot First Class Lunamaria Hawke. Nice to meet you, Shinn." Lunamaria held out a hand to shake. She couldn't help but eye the guy one more time... it was impossible not to really, given that he was just wearing regulation boxers... it wasn't like semi-naked men her own age paraded around in front of her every day... even with ZAFT's somewhat relaxed standards, that was a no-no. A bit wild looking, with that hair sticking up all over the place, and those rather startling red eyes... but she had the feeling he might clean up real nice. She forced herself to concentrate. FLIGHT DECK. Ignore potentially hot guy. FLIGHT DECK. MOBILE SUIT. Not pleasingly muscular and shapely semi-naked guy. She could do this. She could. Being fifteen sure made things problematic at times. They shook hands, and started to head to opposite sides of the hanger bay. Lunamaria wasn't quite sure what it was, but she couldn't leave it at just an apology and handshake. "Talk to you after, Shinn?"

"Uh... yeah, sure!" Shinn called back, half turned. He almost crashed into another wall because he was staring over his shoulder, but he managed to collect himself in a matter of seconds and push on rapidly towards the ready room where his team was supposed to muster. He forced himself to put all thoughts of anything besides whatever was going on that caused this alert from his mind.

"SHINN! What the fuck took you so long?" Captain Schwartz bellowed as Shinn raced into the ready room. "You're nearly four seconds slower than our drill times! I expect better! Get suited up, we're launching in less than five minutes!"

"Yes SIR!" Shinn replied, which was one of the only safe replies in a situation like this. Ignoring the nudges and winks going around the room's other junior members... mostly his roommates whom had witnessed his brief altercation with Lunamaria, Shinn bolted to his locker and efficiently climbed into his ZAFT flightsuit and combat gear in a little over two minutes. As he completed his final double checks, Shinn caught Captain Schwartz's eye again. "Pardon me, sir, but do you have any earthly idea what's going on? I've never seen them use the sirens like that."

"Precisely!" Captain Schwartz barked. Seeing Shinn's confusion, he relented. "Earthly that is. Something's come up regarding Operation Overload's implementation. Somehow... someway... don't ask me how... but the Isolationists have been forewarned of our impending attack. They have defense fleets maneuvering into the drop zones of all twenty Angry Sky warheads. This suggests to me... and to High Command... that there has been a serious loss of intelligence or communication integrity, because there is simply NO way the Naturals could accidentally happen to block all TWENTY insertion points under such short notice! Not only that, but something has gone seriously tube shaped down on Earth itself... High Command is running around like ants on a frying pan about whatever it is. Communications lines are going absolutely insane with message traffic!"

"They're ready for us!?" Shinn gasped, aghast at this terrible news. Operation Overload relied heavily on the element of surprise to ensure effectiveness... ZAFT didn't have the forces to ensure the safety of the Angry Sky mechanisms under less than ideal conditions. As things were, with the plan working perfectly, their forces were stretched to the breaking point. With the possibility of engagements in low to mid orbit, much less running battles planetside... Shinn's guts did a slow, uneasy flip flop.

"No. Yes. Maybe." Schwartz replied, with a heavy shrug. "Too soon to tell for sure. What is sure is that we can't fail to react and hope for the best, unless we all want to get shot to cinders in the process. At this point in time all we can do is try and take the initiative. The more of them we can knock out of the sky before the main force arrives with the Angry Sky bombs, the better chance we have of success. And I shouldn't need to remind anyone here, but success is the ONLY option we have."

"How badly are we outnumbered?" One of the other pilots asked.

"They won't tell me." Schwartz replied warily, conscious of morale. "Take that as you may, but I'd not expect good odds."

"Do we at least have a chance?" Shinn wondered, though he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Shinn, we've ALWAYS got SOME chance. We're ZAFT after all." Schwartz said with a wintry grin. His humor soured quickly though. "If you're looking for reassurance from me, I won't insult or lie to you guys. We're in it deep. Very deep. Like Shinn said, they don't use those sirens pretty much EVER. Ships have gone into fleet wide engagements and been blown apart without sounding those horns. The only way any of us is CERTAIN to survive this mission is to go EVA now and wait for search and rescue to find you... assuming there's anyone to conduct search and rescue left. However, thats not an option for the Schwartz team, is it lads?"

"NO SIR!"

"That's right. Now mount up and give me your green lights. We're going to go out there and show those damn Naturals that ZAFT... and especially the Schwartz team... isn't going down without a HELLUVA fight! SEMPER FORTIS MAGNUS!"

"SEMPER FORTIS MAGNUS!" (Always greatly couragous)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frost could hear the Mobile Suits breathing. He could see their heart's beating. Smell their breath smoking in the chilly air. Taste the vital fluids pumping through their mechnical frames in crudes fascimilies of blood. Ensconsed within the Pulsar, practically fused with its operating system in most definitions of the word, he had entire oceans of data being projected into his consciousness that normal humans couldn't even begin to fathom, limited to their old fashioned joystick controls and computer screen displays. He saw what the Pulsar saw, heard what it heard, felt what it felt... and when he found he didn't have words for those sights, sounds, smells and sensations, he'd been forced to look at them through the lens of his own experiences. The sound of thrusters idling, rising and falling whines as the pilots feathered the throttles reminded him of fighters panting for breath before a bloody fight... the steady flaming pulses of their fission hearts blooming in reds and golds in their chests... cooling systems belching steam into the air from their cooling gun muzzles and electronic components... Frost saw the enemy Gundams more as mechanical extensions of his enemies, rather than mere vehicles. To him and the Pulsar, they were as alive as, if not more than, the fragile meat that piloted them.

Frost flicked his right hand again, striving to remove the last vestiges of blood from his claws. Not that blood on his hands really bothered him, but it was a not so subtle reminder to his opponents... who regarded bloody hands as abhorrent, the silly gooses. As if any of their hands were truly clean... as if none of them had ever killed people! Oh, self defense, they'd say. We had to protect people, a common excuse. It was them or me, that was a favorite of his. Worthless drivel, all of it. Blood was blood, death was death, killing was killing. You either had or had not... and precious, precious few had not. Which was why killing those precious few... or better yet, bringing them down to the level of those who had, THEN killing them... was so satisfying. Of course, far too few actually understood this truth. Truly, a messiah was never appreciated in his own time, as it was said. Though Frost supposed he should be thankful that he was such a unique visionary... it gave him that much more unspoiled subject material to work with, after all!

The Liberty stood not much more than twenty meters away, cannons and rifles stowed for the moment, glaring at him with a truely hateful expression. It was enough to send chills of pleasure down his spine. Boytoy always had been the easiest of them to provoke... you didn't even have to get personal with him... just threaten some people who had no business being near fighting anyway and he'd boil over like a pot left too long on high heat. The rest of Pink's little special forces unit circled the Liberty and the Pulsar from a distance of about two city blocks, clearly apprehensive about closing to extreme close quarters with the Pulsar. Not that he was going to give them much choice about it, but he let them revel in their plots and plans for a few more moments... it would make disrupting them all the sweeter when the time came. There was no loss as painful as a loss that was grabbed from the very jaws of victory, forcing you to realize that you'd been played for fools all along by a vastly superior force. Frost knew that better than pretty much anyone, given how many times his certain victory had been taken away from him by that bitch called Fate.

Frost spread his arms wide, sheathing his claws and holding his palms up. And then he laughed, as hard and loud as he could, the Pulsar projecting his voice both audibly and across every comm channel it could detect, decrypt and access, which for the Pulsar was pretty much all of them, including news feeds, the international distress frequency and almost all of the Isolationist and ZAFT military channels. He laughed because he'd been enjoying himself, and he was anticipating enjoying himself a lot more in the near future. He laughed because he was standing at the cusp of his great destiny, and only he could see it. He laughed because he knew it would goad his opponents like almost no amount of insults would. He laughed, because for one of the very few times in his life, he was happy and content with a situation. All was as it should be. Him. Them. The world. The stage was set, the players present, the music just about to start... the air itself seemed to have an electric tension, as if it was holding its breath. Frost was expecting to be attacked, while his guard was apparently down, but Boytoy and the others refused to fall into that little trap, more was the pity. Still, by this point he shouldn't expect THEM to play along nicely, should he?

"Well, if YOU won't attack me, I'LL just have to start this climax off properly MYSELF!" Frost shouted, ripping his sword from the ground where he'd planted it nearby so he could clean off his claws and leaping towards the Liberty. He cocked the sword back up high over his shoulder and prepared to bring it down in an apocalyptic strike that would shear the Liberty in half from shoulder to hip without even slowing down. He cried out in exhultation as he crossed the distance between them in a blink of an eye and brought his sword crashing down like the very sky itself falling atop his hated foe. However, the sword blade jarred to a halt well short of its intended target, bright orange beam edge striking gold and blue sparks from the flickering greenish energy field of a Citadel Shield that the Liberty had almost calmly interposed into the path of the swing, before the Pulsar could get its full momentum into the blow. The Liberty made no move to swing its own beam saber, and Frost snarled with anger at being so mocked. Boytoy should know better than to make light of FROST!

If he hadn't been melded into the Pulsar's OS, Frost never would have seen the attack coming. As things were, he noticed a sudden build up of energies behind the torso projector that graced the front chest of the Liberty, and his memories flashed back to one of the earliest encounters between himself and this damned Mobile Suit, where an invisible cone of energy from that very projector had blasted the Fury's electronics systems and OS into so much data confetti. The Fury had subsequently been upgraded with extra EMP shielding to protect against similar incidents, but the Pulsar had no such protection. Quite what would happen if the insanely complex computer programs controlling the NIC System, much less the Fusion Pulse Reactor, were corrupted into garbled static by the EMP wave, Frost didn't know, and wasn't eager to find out. For that matter, what the blast would do to HIM, given his new melding with the Pulsar, wasn't something he desired to experience either. In a heartbeat Frost disengaged from the sword and shield clinch and dodged backwards and to the side at maximum thrust. It was barely enough... the tips of the Pulsar's feet brushed the edge of the EMP field as it was disgorged in a rippling wave of charged air. It felt something like rubbing his feet against a file blade for a moment... not exactly painful, but far from pleasant.

"Clever! Clever Boytoy! Very clever!" Frost congratulated, his blood singing again. This was the sort of fight he was looking for... a final challenge before the long drudge killing! "Doomed to failure, but a clever attempt!"

"My name is Kira, Frost." Boytoy's voice was strangely calm, even for that abomination of a Pilot, who never seemed to get truly angry when fighting in his Mobile Suit.

"Your name has NOTHING to do with what you ARE!" Frost retorted in exasperation. Was he really the only one who could see things like that? "Your name is just a collection of meaningless sounds! What you ARE is Pink's Boytoy! You're nothing more than a security blanket for Pink!"

"I think Lacus might disagree with you there, but we're not here to debate semantics with you, Frost." Boytoy replied, still infuriatingly calm. "We're not going to let you run away this time."

"Let me? LET ME!? DON'T YOU REMEMBER, BOYTOY, WHO LET WHO GET AWAY LAST TIME!? OH WAIT, THAT'S RIGHT, YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS THEN... TELL ME, DO YOU STILL CRAVE THE TASTE OF MY BLOOD, BOYTOY!? DO YOU!?" Frost shouted in gleeful rage.

"Your failure to kill me when you had the chance is YOUR mistake, not mine, Frost. And I do not, never have and never will crave the taste of blood... yours or anyones; your attempt to poison me failed utterly."

"DON'T BE SO CALM, BOYTO...!" Frost was diving to attack again even as he raved, ready to slice the annoying bastard into cubes small enough to eat in a single bite before he was done. Even as he started the dive he was forced to abort the attack, snatching one hand off his sword hilt in order to block an almost impressively timed barrage from the Blond Weeny and his chick, in the Grand Buster. His Positron shield absorbed the hyper impulse blast and explosive shotgun shells with barely a blip in his power levels, but it did force him to delay his attack on the Boytoy long enough for the Liberty to countercharge, using its shield to force the Pulsar's sword up and to the side even as the Liberty lunged forward with its beam saber. Frost reversed thrust in an instant and cartwheeled sideways through the air as soon as the Liberty's shield hit his sword, by the time the Liberty even half completed its lunge the Pulsar was fifty meters away.

Without bothering to look around, since the Pulsar could look in three hundred and sixty degress at once, Frost brought his sword up over his head in a horizontal parry as Scarface in the Duelist tried to power slice down onto him from above. With a grunt and a flexing of his muscles, Frost pushed the Duelist away and spun on his heels, ducking low into a crouch to avoid Loser Zala-Attha's first beam edged flyer pack, then flipping up into a somersault over the second flyer pack and finally utilizing a one hand handspring to redirect himself past Loser Zala-Attha and his so called Righteous itself. Railgun tracers split the air within feet of either side of the cavorting Pulsar, and Loser Zala-Attha's twin bladed beam sword sliced the air in humming patterns, but by the time he started swinging the Pulsar was already past and behind him, both hands once again on the sword hilt, body twisting around in mid tumble to bring the sword across in a horizontal strike that should have cleft the Righteous into two at stomach level, if the damnable Boytoy hadn't charged in and taken the blow with his own shield, rocking backward under the force of the blow.

Touching his feet to the ground for a bare moment, Frost kicked off into a jump that took him sixty meters down the street before he touched down again, abruptly reversing his momentum and barreling back down the street at Boytoy, Loser Zala-Attha and Scarface. Minute thoughts adjusted his flight path enough to dodge the hastily aimed shots from Fiery Zala-Attha's ion cannon and beam gatling cannons as she tried to catch him from the flank. Frost put the Pulsar into a rapid spin, using one hand to hold his sword tight against his front, while the other hand whipped out his beam crossbow and fired off a single shot at Fiery Zala-Attha that blasted her ion cannon into flaming shards, right out of her hands, and sent the Strike Rubicon stumbling backwards, smoke trailing from its damaged arm. Continuing his spin, Frost jammed a foot down into the ground just as he reached Boytoy, bringing his zweihander around in a one handed swing that Boytoy easily deflected with his shield, though the crunching impact was enough to send the Liberty sliding back a pace or two. Frost thrust his free hand at the Liberty, palm forward, as if trying to push him. Which was a fairly accurate description of what he was doing, as the barely visible reddish tinge of the Positron shield spat forth from the palm projector and slammed into the already off balance Liberty.

Frost had been hoping to just annihilate the Liberty with the Positron shield, but the incredibly strong magnetic fields enclosing the antimatter particles repelled pretty much anything, unless it was small or traveling at velocities of several thousand miles per hour. For something the size of a full Mobile Suit to break through the field would require it to be moving far faster than anything but the Pulsar could really manage. Still, even though the Liberty wasn't disintegrated by contact with the field, it couldn't penetrate it either, and the Liberty was knocked backwards like a kickball, stumbling and crashing to the ground in a haze of dust, sparks and ripped up concrete. Frost leapt over the Liberty even as it was falling backwards, kicking out with one foot square into the middle of the Righteous's shield, rocking that machine as well. Pushing off with that leg and his thrusters, Frost altered course in mid blitz, pulling two right angle turns within a second, his trailing foot kicking the Righteous in the side as he passed, his left elbow snapping back to clip Loser Zala-Attha behind the ear as an afterthought, the triplicate of blows causing the Righteous to stagger in place, unable to retaliate for a few moments.

Frost brought his sword down in a vertical two handed slice as he passed the Righteous, aiming to return the attack the Duelist had tried to level on him just seconds earlier. Plasma energies shrieked and arcs of tormented lightning spalled around as the Duelist brought both its beam saber and Citadel Shield up to meet the attack head on. The downward attack was stopped, but Frost didn't let up for a moment, spinning the Pulsar around once in place to build momentum again, he beat his sword down vertically atop the Duelist a second time, driving Scarface's defenses lower still. A third strike within a second all but broke his opponent, and the fourth strike sent the Duelist clattering onto its backside, throat bared to the sky. Or so it seemed, until the Duelist snatched up its beam rifle and brought it to bear on the Pulsar, greenish pre-discharge glowing from its twin barrels. Frost snorted in contempt, even as he kicked around with one leg, shattering the rifle in an explosion of metal shards and pinning the Duelist's right hand to the ground to prevent any more foolishness. Frost took his sword in both hands and raised it high, preparing to thrust down and impale Scarface like the bug he'd always been.

Several flights of missiles and a pair of intense green beam blasts arrowed in from off to his side, the beams glancing harmlessly off his zweihander, barely even causing the great blade to shiver. Grimacing in unrestrained distaste, Frost took a hand off the sword to sweep the missiles from the sky with a flick of his free wrist and the Positron shield. Unfortunately, he lost his opportunity in doing so, as the Duelist brought it's shield up across its body, chainsaw edges wailing and steaming as they struggled to find purchase along the incandescant blade of the beam zweihander, Citadel Shield edge sparkling as it forced the beam edge aside. Frost threw his upper body backwards even as the Duelist fired the three beam tipped grapples from the front face of it's shield. Frost snatched all three cables with his free hand, sliding out his claws to sever the macromolecular cords with disgusting ease as he gripped them, continuing his backward flip Frost lifted up his legs and brought his sword back and down in time to deflect a brace of shots from the Righteous's beam rifle. Digging the blade into the ground, Frost pushed off from it, leaving it behind as he somersaulted over the head of the still tottering Righteous. Frost thrust downwards with both palms open as he passed over the Liberty, which was just getting to its knees... flattening the annoying Boytoy like a fly under a swatter as both Positron shields pounded the Liberty face first into the ground.

Rotating out of his somersault, Frost snapped out his arms, releasing his twin heated whips of armored chain from the forearm sheaths. Glowing white hot with heat bleed from the FPR cooling systems, the whips carved molten paths through the buildings to either side of the Pulsar as he flexed his arms. He ducked and dodged in place a flurry of railgun tracers and beam blasts from the Righteous, as Loser Zala-Attha fought desperately to give his comrades time to rise again. A double flight of missiles from directly behind him drew Frost's attention for a moment, as the Strike Rubicon thought to rejoin a battle she had no place in even approaching. The Pulsar snapped its arms back and forth in a blinding pattern, heat whips snaking out like octopus tentacles to slice and batter the missiles out of the air in bursts of fire and shrapnel. Apparently not getting the hint, the Strike Rubicon charged through the smoke and debris of its failed attack, shield held low and forward, beam lance high and back, poised to thrust downward or forward as needed. Her CIWS chattered cutely at him as she entered the twenty five meter range of his heat whips. Dropping his head, twisting his shoulders to bring them beneath the hurriedly aimed tracers from her CIWS, Frost thrust his left arm out straight towards her, thrusting his right arm straight out in the opposite direction at the same time.

The five ton, white hot mass of his left heat whip struck the Strike Rubicon's shield high and center, deflecting up and over her left shoulder in a flash of light and orange sparks. The identical mass of his right heat whip struck the Righteous... who had been charging from the other side in a laughably predictable joint attack by Loser Zala-Attha... in much the same spot, though Loser Zala-Attha was smarter and deflected the heat whip down and to the side instead. A harsh push from his right hand Positron shield stood the Righteous up straight and ended its charge with a sound of crunching and bending metal, stopping it as cold as if it had hit an impenetrable wall. Not deigning to use his left hand shield to stop the Rubicon similarly, Frost let her thrust futiley for his center of mass with her lance... before snatching out his hand and arresting the beam lance several meters short of its intended target. With a grin of effort and triumph, Frost bent the shaft of her lance, destroying the beam emitter components in the head of the lance and turning it from a weapon into so much scrap metal. He twiched his left forearm even as he disabled her lance, looping his heat whip, which she had deflected over her left shoulder, around her now conveniently exposed right arm and neck.

Smoke and sparks jetted from where the links of the heat whip were in contact with the Rubicon's armor, and molten metal started to drip down the Rubicon's chest as the heat whip began cutting through the Rubicon's neck and right arm, which was trapped awkwardly rasied above its shoulder. Frost drew back sharply on his left hand whip, keeping the tension high and causing the looped chain to saw back and forth, adding even more cutting strain to go with the high heat and sharpened edges of the weapon. Fiery Zala-Attha proved the worthiness of her nickname once again though, as she left off trying to pull away from the Pulsar's whip, instead lowering her shield and pointing the twin gatling beam cannons beneath it at him. Normally not much more than an annoyance to a Mobile Suit, especially a Gundam, to the Pulsar, with its distinct lack of armor, the 25mm cannons were every bit as dangerous as pretty much anything else was. And he couldn't use his Positron shields to stop the attack, without cutting off his own whip in the process. Fortunately, there was more than one way to skin just about anything. Leaping straight up and applying a few taps from his thrusters brought the Pulsar over and around behind the Rubicon, looping several more coils of slack whip around the machine in the process.

Pressing close up against the back of the Rubicon, Frost jammed one knee into the lower back of his captive, applying enough pressure to make turning or moving the legs of the Rubicon almost impossible. He reached under her right arm and lashed his right whip at the no doubt extremely frustrated and worried Righteous, who was standing off a bit, obviously wondering how he kept getting into situations where his lovely little Fiery Zala-Attha was held hostage. "Its not MY fault! She did it to ME!" Frost crowed, giggling. Seeing that the Righteous had backed out of whip range for the moment, Frost fully retracted the right hand whip, popping the claws on that hand instead. Unable to penetrate Phase Shift armor directly, the mono-molecular blades did just fine for Frost's intended purpose, sliding into joints and between the joins of armor plates as he laviciously caressed the Rubicon, much as he'd done to Fiery Zala-Attha herself bak in Orb. This time though, his nails were doing more than indenting flesh... this time he was snipping hydraulic lines, cutting power cords, severing the internal mechanical and electric systems that served the Rubicon as nerves and muscles, crippling the machine without leaving more than bright scratches on its paintwork for the outside eye to see.

Frost lovingly punched two claws through the camera eyes of the Rubicon, delighting in the blue and white sparks that crawled over his talons as he dug them into the Rubicon's skull, slicing its sensor and camera systems into ruins. His other claws pried at the half melted and heat stressed joint between the Rubicon's head and neck, just above where the left hand heat whip was slowly but surely melting through the Rubicon's shoulders and right arm. When he was pleased with his grip, Frost stabbed the claws in deeply, twisted, ripped and then heaved, tearing the Rubicon's head from it's shoulders in a spray of flaming hydraulic oils and electrical arcs. Discarding the inert wreckage, Frost started prying at the front of the Rubicon, claws skittering down the metal as he searched for the nigh invisible cracks where the cockpit hatch came flush with the rest of the torso. The joins there were nearly nonexistant, forming as they did an air and water tight seal, but the tips of his claws were more than fine enough to slide in... once he found the correct joins, that was. And once he did, Fiery Zala-Attha would soon be EX-Fiery Zala-Attha, and he could go on his merry way.

That plan, as was the unfortunate way for so many of his good ideas, was not to be, as two very strong hands descended upon the Pulsar from behind, gripping him tightly at shoulder and waist. Frost cursed the world for its unfairness at letting him get so distracted as to let the Blond Weeny and his chick, in their massive Grand Buster, sneak up on him from behind. Damn Fiery Zala-Attha for being such a sweetly distracting bitch! Reversing his right arm in a manner no human arm could hope to match, Frost began scrabbling at the front of the Grand Buster, which was pressed close to him as the Blond Weeny and his chick tried to pry the Pulsar off the Rubicon through brute force. Frost fought the pull for a few moments, before he realized that, somewhat unfairly, the Grand Buster was much too strong for the Pulsar to match directly, unlike the situation would be in the flesh. Deciding that given the awkward angle of his right arm, and the soon to be presence of the other three Clyne Faction machines, that this situation was untenable, Frost stopped resisting the Grand Buster's attempts and instead added his own impetus to the yanking and pulling as he retracted his left hand whip from the already disabled Rubicon.

Obviously not expecting such a tactic, the Grand Buster stumbled backwards, wrist joints smoking as they were stressed mightily before the Blond Weeny released his grip on the twisting Pulsar. The Grand Buster tripped and fell to the ground with a thunderous rumble and the Pulsar flipped free, handspringing along the ground for almost a hundred meters before coming to an abrupt halt. The Righteous, Liberty and Duelist stepped forward, past the disabled Rubicon and between the Grand Buster and the Pulsar, standing in line abreast to give their big friend time to recover. However, it wasn't because of them that Frost had brought himself to a stop. Sighing with enjoyment, he thrust the Pulsar's arms straight out to either side, palms flat and out, legs braced widely. Even as he did so, the building directly to either side of him exploded outwards onto him, accompanied by full out barrages from Little Ashino in the Independence on his right side and some nameless fool in a Freedom on his left side. Rubble, cannon shells, railgun tracers, beam blasts and missiles pelted his shields mercilessly from both sides, sending corsucating waves of fire and shrapnel through the air, rendering the area around where the Pulsar stood into a cauldron of destruction.

The Pulsar itself, and anything else contained within the hemisphere defined by the Positron shields, was as calm as the eye of a hurricane and remained completely unscathed. Chuckling in his delight, Frost ducked out of the last sputters of the flanking barrages and turned on these new, old foes. Desiring to be rid of the nameless annoyance as soon as possible, Frost snatched out his beam crossbow, reloading it even as he brought it to bear, turning contemptuously away from his target to face the Independence, which had dropped its shield and its twin 120mm gatling cannons, leaving both hands free for some reason. Frost fired his beam crossbow, the plasma tipped bolt piercing the Freedom high on the left torso, blowing that arm, the hip and shoulder mounted weapons, and the HiMat wing behind it off and sending the machine twisting backward in ruins. Spastic fire from the Freedom's... or Templar's, depending on who owned it... right hand beam rifle splattered off the buildings to either side of the Pulsar, and one lucky beam even scorched a black runnel down the outside of the Pulsar's left arm... barely more than paintwork damage, and the nano-repair system would take care of it in minutes, but it was infuriating!

Frost returned his attention to Little Ashino, and just in time too, because the Independence thrust both of its hands, palm out, at the Pulsar, as if trying to push him! The Independence was too far away to make physical contact though, and Frost knew that the Independence didn't have Positron shields... he raised his right hand shield in a mirrored pushing gesture to be safe and was glad he did when twin bolts of eye searingly bright purple-white lightning spat out of the Independence's palm mounted Mjolnir capacitors. Nothing fancier than pure electrical energy, man made lightning bolts composed of gigajoules of energy leeched from the willing Captain Kellson's Templar, the Mjolnir bolts struck the Positron shield and EXPLODED into frustrated ball lightning, unable to penetrate the magnetic fields coating the shield, and therefore not subject to annihilation by the positrons contained within. The backlash tossed the Independence backwards like a leaf in a gale, flying a full fifty meters, through four small buildings before friction at last brought the great machine to a halt, in a stunned, half sitting position. The feedback from the strike against his right hand shield raced up Frost's arm like molten steel eating his blood, and the uncontained force of the concussive explosion sent the Pulsar reeling backwards as well, tripping over the prone form of Eric's Templar and falling heavily onto its back, right arm spouting thin white smoke from within its hand mechanisms.

Boiling with rage, Frost twisted, rolled and kipped the Pulsar back to its feet with an undulation of his body, shaking his right hand as if he'd just touched a red hot stove and was trying to cool it down. His arm tingled furiously, but did not appear to have had any of its functions impeded or damaged. Frost could sense the Righteous, Liberty and Duelist closing in on him at top speed, while the Independence was slowly clambering back to its feet, shaking off the unexpected backlash from Ashino's desperately gambled attack. The Grand Buster was moving around at the edge of his perceptions, no doubt trying to find an angle to use its great artillery cannon on him without endangering its friends. He'd taken the odds from seven on one to five on one, and he was sure he'd be winnowing down the odds even more shortly, but even Frost had to admit that it was becoming a close run thing at times. He LOVED it! It was BEAUTIFUL! Everything his DESTINY should be! Everything... his train of thought was interrupted by a snippet of conversation the Pulsar's comm stealing systems suddenly picked up.

"... ionist Thirty Fifth Orbital Defence Fleet, calling IsoSuCom (Isolationist Supreme Command)! ZAFT Forces have accelerated to flank speed and are approaching on attack vectors! They are launching Mobile Suits and moving to engage our outer elements! Repeat, ZAFT advance forces are engaging us outside the parameters of their Operation Overload as transmitted to us! Location and trajectory of Angry Sky EMP bombs no longer clear. Request clarification of orders. Do we engage enemy forces now, or withdraw and stick to interdicting the doomsday weapons? IsoSuCom, come in! Respond, IsoSuCom! DAMMIT CAN ANYONE HEAR ME..."

"Noah... you little bastard..." Frost gritted his teeth in frustration. "You and your evil genius plans... touche. Touche. BUT IT'S NOT GOING TO SAVE YOU! NOAH!!" Frost blurred into action, taking off at maximum thrust, disappearing into the clouds of smoke over Denver in less than a second, before streaking down like a meteor, altering course at the last possible second to avoid slamming into the ground, the sonic boom rattling out in an expanding wave that threw dust and debris into the air in a circle a half mile across, knocking down several buildings that had been damaged during the course of the fighting and all but flattening his five remaining foes. He'd get back to them... by all that was holy, he'd get back to them! But right now, his fun... his DESTINY itself was endangered by Noah's minions... ZAFT... and whatever this "Angry Sky" weapon was. EMP bombs... such a quaint idea. Not playing fair at all. Lying little bastard Noah! Trying to cheat FATE itself! Well, Frost was having NONE of that! He'd go up there and wipe out ZAFT once and for all and THEN, THEN he'd come back down and get back to the serious business of ending the last hope of the human race! The Pulsar snatched its sword out of the ground as it zipped by, and Frost altered course again, aiming for heaven itself. "I'm coming for you, NOOOAAAHH!"

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With a sound not unlike a sledgehammer shattering a pile of bricks, a tanned human arm punched out through a half destroyed cinderblock wall. The arm shed patches of skin in large swathes along its length from the force of the blow, revealing the pinkish inner structures of the arm and the bones beneath those. No blood squirted, no howl of agony resounded, and the arm was withdrawn as smoothly and easily as it had first appeared, to reappear within seconds, bursting out through another portion of the wall, knocking a larger hole in the rubble that had fallen and blocked the exit door leading out the back side of the ruined Capitol Building. Two more punches later and the arm, now little more than shreds of skin and rubbery pink flesh hanging from scratched and dusty steel bones, finally managed to clear enough of a hole for people to start squeezing out from the darkened passageway.

"I must admit, whoever built this prosthetic arm REALLY knew what the fuck they were doing!" Waltfeld commented, inspecting his mechanical arm with something close to awe. That hadn't been the first bit of fallen debris he'd pulverized on their way out of the building, and as far as he could see, the arm was still working just fine, with only light cosmetic damage. The same couldn't be said of his very expensive faux flesh arm cover, which was utterly ruined, but appearances weren't exactly his major concern right at the moment. He slammed his metal fist into the sides of his hole several times, knocking out entire cinderblocks in blasts of dust and concrete chips, widening the hole by another foot to help the bigger people, like Kisaka and the sullen Sergeant-Major Glory, effect their own escape. His shoulder joint, where the steel bones of the prosthetic merged with his organic shoulder bones, ached somthing furious from the repeated jarring, but like the arm cover, that was a price he was willing to pay for no longer being trapped in a collapsed building.

"Indeed. Remind me not to get into a fist fight with you. Ever. AGH!" Alkire managed a weak chuckle that ended as his face went pale white when he accidentally put too much weight on his injured legs while stepping out of the hole. They'd decided to leave the wooden shrapnel in him, because they were afraid of tearing more blood vessels and muscles and nerves if they removed them... but that made walking especially painful for the TEMPEST leader, and he could only move with the assistance of Kisaka and Raine, and slowly at that, since Kisaka wasn't exactly at his best either.

Sergeant-Major Glory and Corporal Ramierez kept slightly off to themselves, accompanying the Clyne Faction in their bid to escape the ruined building, but not willing to follow Lacus's orders directly. Still, the massive Sergeant-Major and the wiry Corporal had added their shoulders and legs to the efforts to bull their way through locked doors, debris choked passageways and half collapsed stairways, right alongside Waltfeld, Murrue, Raine, Katie and Lacus herself. Kisaka and Alkire had been forced to stay away from the heavy work because of their injuries, which had suited neither man particularly well, despite the unimpeachable fact that they'd be more hindrance than help. Glory and Ramierez were helping after all, and they were both injured too... though with proper splinting Glory's wrists barely seemed to bother him at all, and Ramierez's splinters were orders of magnitude less severe than Alkire's. Ramierez whistled, low and long, as he caught sight of the devastation that the Capital Building area had become. "Looks like a tornado hit here." Ramierez commented.

"More like a pair of armored divisions had a knock down-drag out brawl to the death." Glory muttered, squinting his eyes to try and peer through the dust and smoke.

"Or a freakishly powerful Gundam chopped the building in half with its sword and then kicked around the rubble like a child destroying a sand castle." Katie spoke up, having been eavesdropping on their conversation. "Which is what actually happened, by the way." Her attempt at humor fell as flat as Alkire's, but she refused to let herself give in to despair. She'd be just as strong as Lacus, damn her if she wasn't! Lacus, with her cut up face and arms, who wasn't even crying a tiny bit, and had been leading them all with calm orders and uplifting comments, who'd taken charge when they'd all been stunned by the destruction and calamity of the building falling in on them... goddamn, but Katie didn't know how Lacus did it... even under the emotional assault of Frost's mind, she'd still managed to be calm and rational and focused, when all Katie wanted to do was find a hole and pull it in after herself!

"So where now?" Murrue asked, having stepped into the role of second in command. Lacus gave them direction and goals, Murrue fine tuned those directions and gave orders to accomplish the goals. Pretty much the same relationship they'd had throughout the course of the Valentine Wars. Why fix or change a system that worked just fine, after all? "We can't stay here, not with Frost and the Pulsar nearby... that monster'd like nothing better than finding the lot of us out on open ground like this!"

"We're going to go find Cyprus and the President and his family." Glory said stonily, his face set in a grim mask as he surveyed the chaos that had taken hold of the Denver cityscape. Fires raged out of control in all directions, smoke rose from rubble and even whole buildings like volcanic vents, and there was barely a structure within sight that wasn't damaged in some way, if not half or even fully collapsed. Pearl Harbor, after the atomic strikes, hadn't been this fucked up! Well, that was what happened when you pitted two entire CAD's against a Gundam in the middle of a city, or so Glory was forced to conclude. It was damn near impossible to believe that there was only one... ONE... enemy Mobile Suit out there, killing people and nearly twenty thousand soldiers were singularly unable to do DICK-ALL to stop him! "I don't particularly care what you people do. You're not my problem right now. We needed to work together to get out of the building, but now that we're out, the alliance is off... if I see you guys again I'm going to cap the lot of you... starting with the creepy girl with the pink hair!"

"We need to get in contact with Kira and the others, find out what the situation with Frost is." Waltfeld said, wondering just how they were going to do that, since Glory had destroyed the only radio, and it didn't look like there was much in the way of communication devices handy in this... wasteland.

"We'll help them find Sai and his family, and Mr. Glory's friend. Its the least we can do, given their help in escaping the building." Lacus said firmly. "We'll search for any other survivors along the way... I can't just walk away and hide and let people die, when if I stay and render even basic aid I might be able to save their lives!"

"But..." Waltfeld tried to argue, trying to interject the logical arguement that Lacus was quite a bit more important to keep alive than other people, cruel as that may have sounded.

"Kira, Athrun, Ysak, Dearka, Cagalli and Miriallia are more than busy right at the moment, and they don't need pointless communications from us distracting them. They know what they need to do, and they're doing their best to do it. When the time comes that they have a free moment, Katie and I will work something out with them for communications purposes. Right now, there is nothing more important that we can be doing than saving what lives we can." Lacus cut him off, adding a look that sent shivers up and down his spine. The decision had been made, that was plain. Usually Lacus was far from heavy handed in her directives... but that didn't mean she couldn't lay down the law when she thought it necessary, Waltfeld forced himself to remember. It stickled at his pride sometimes, even for him, who was as willing a Clyne Faction adherent as could be, to be flat out told what he was going to do by someone half his age, barely into young adulthood by PLANT standards. Still, despite the number of grim situations he'd been in, he could hardly say she'd steered him totally wrong, could he? And what was that saying... "pride goeth before the fall?"... perhaps it was better to get your pride pricked every now and then... kept you grounded.

"Split up then... we'll be able to cover more ground that way. But don't go off without at least one partner, and don't get out of sight of each other if at all possible! The last thing we need is people getting seperated and lost and maybe getting hurt!" Murrue ordered, after waiting a few moments to see if there were any other protests or opinions. There were none. "Raine, I want you and Ledonir and Alkire to find some sort of flat ground, preferrably with cover as well, that we can use as a sort of aid station or emergency shelter. I'll have Katie stay with you so we can stay in contact with you. Andrew, you and I will go with Lacus and search the northwest side, while Mr. Glory and Mr. Ramierez take the southwest side. If you do get seperated, try and find your way back to this position in thirty minutes, okay?"

"All this communicating without radios or cellphones is rubbing me totally the wrong way, but the basic plan is sound." Glory muttered, barely audible to the rest of them. "Thanks." He all but whispered.

"You're welcome, Mr. Glory. Just as you bear me no personal animosity, the reverse is also true. My stated ethos is to help people in need... and right now you're someone who needs help, so I am at your service, without reservation." Lacus replied, with a slight smile. To Murrue, Lacus seemed to be somehow bubbling with energy all of a sudden, as if the weight of the crisis and the narrowness of the escape from the collapsed building had revitalized her somehow. Lacus had always had a good presence in tough situations though, so Murrue told herself that she shouldn't be THAT surprised. Still, sometimes it was tough to remember that Lacus wasn't even eighteen yet.

The search for survivors was heartbreaking work, as such searches usually were. Few people lived through having a building collapse on top of them, especially when there'd been almost no warning beforehand, so people had been caught out of cover, exposed to the full weight of collapsing walls and ceilings. Rupturing gas lines and severed power lines added poisonous gas, electrocution and fires to the mix, while torn water mains flooded out many pockets of air where survivors might have been able to escape being crushed. Precious few of the people they were able to pull from the wreckage were still alive, and precious fewer of those would last long without dedicated medical attention, which they were unable to provide. Worst of all were the people they could hear, calling out faintly from deeper within the ruined building, but they couldn't find or reach, much less dig out, so all they could do was call out encouragement and hope that rescue crews would arrive in time to save those who were trapped.

It was Lacus, perhaps predictably, given her extra Newtype senses, that found the Argyle's first. She clambered over a pile of rubble, paying heed to an odd, just barely there tugging at her mind, an obstinate flicker of familiarity that she couldn't quite place... until she looked down the small slope and saw the bloody ruins of two people lying at the bottom. Lacus swayed, bile rising in her throat, and she had to turn her head to the side and squeeze her eyes tightly shut so she could take a couple deep breathes so she could speak properly. "Found them! I found Sai!" Lacus shouted, at the top of her considerable lungs, loud enough to be clearly heard even by Alkire, Raine and Kisaka, almost a quarter mile away. Lacus heard Waltfeld and Murrue scrambling up the rubble behind her, and more distant sounds as Ramierez and Glory rushed towards her position, but she didn't let herself turn away from the horrible sight in front of her eyes as she slowly made her way down the pile of rubble.

Lacus had seen some terrible, horrifying things... her father's shot riddled body after he'd been assassinated by ZAFT Military Police, a collapsed kindergarten in Pearl Harbor after the nuclear strikes, Kira and her friends after being tortured at the hands of Blue Cosmos in JIHAD, hundreds of unfortunate people in the streets of Purgatory Day, Kira after his disastrous experience with the Pulsar and Frost outside of Orb, more recently the smashed victims of the building collapse... but the sight of Sai and Vanai Argyle struck her harder than most. Perhaps it was because they'd been so vitally alive not that long ago... perhaps it was just the state of the bodies, which affected Murrue and Waltfeld the same way it had her, drawing deep breaths and low curses. Perhaps it was the knowledge that it was Frost who'd done this to them. Lacus didn't bother to wipe the tears from her eyes as she knelt by the two of them. From the look of things, Sai had managed to awake after suffering his injuries, and had crawled the few feet over to his wife, ending just short of her with his hand on her mangled shoulder. Of their twin baby children there was no sign, but given the utterly destroyed nature of Vanai's corpse, that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Glory stumbled into view, nearly tripping and falling face first down the rubble pile in his haste, before he fully saw what there was to see. The massive Hellhound staggered and literally moaned with mixed anger, sorrow and despair. Ramierez, arriving on scene just after his Sergeant-Major, didn't make a sound, though Lacus could feel that he was just as hard hit as the other Hellhound. Sai had been far more than just their boss and President... he'd been a staunch friend, and the person they'd looked up to in the process of bringing peace to the human race. Seeing him like this... they felt like members of the Clyne Faction would if it was Lacus lying there instead of Sai. "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK! GODDAMN AND FUCK AND FUCKER!" Glory dropped to his hands and knees next to Lacus, pounding his hand into the ground, heedless of his broken wrist. "DAMNIT! DAMNIT! MR. PRESIDENT! SAI! DAMN IT, SAI! YOU CAN'T FUCKING DIE! YOU CAN'T!"

"Blunt force trauma... and deep slashing wounds. What the hell did this?" Ramierez said quietly, as he reverently but professionally poked and prodded at Vanai's remains, trying to forensically reconstruct what had occured. Though Lacus hadn't been there to see it, Kira had, and though he hadn't yet told her what he'd seen to so set him off like he had been, seeing this, Lacus no longer had to wonder. She shivered, and curled one of her own hands into a fist. How horrible, to survive the collapse of the building, only to be mercilessly snuffed out by a Mobile Suit, helpless to do anything to save yourself! Truly, Frost was a... Lacus gritted her teeth and wiped at her face gingerly, careful of the lightly bandaged cuts as she dried her eyes. Now was not the time for regrets or hatreds or fears... she could worry about those later.

"Frost did it, with the Pulsar's claws." Lacus said simply, her voice calm and all but drained of emotion. "They never knew what hit them, I don't think."

"I see. He's a dead man walking." Glory said, his own voice cold and bloodless. He was making a statement of fact, nothing more, nothing less. He struggled with himself for a moment, then turned his face, with hollow eyes, towards Lacus. "How did you find him, Ms. Clyne? We could have searched for hours without climbing this particular part of the rubble. I'm not angry at you for finding him, I just want to know how..."

"It's... umm... hard to explain..." Lacus hedged. "I suppose you could say I felt his... mind. I can see people's minds... well, see isn't the right word, but sense maybe, and I followed that sense until..." Lacus trailed off, as she suddenly realized something. She'd felt Sai, not Vanai. She couldn't sense the mind of someone who didn't have one... i.e. because they were dead. But she HAD sensed Sai! It had been terribly faint but she'd... Lacus narrowed her eyes in intense concentration. THERE! There it was, a very faint glimmer, like a candle at the bottom of a well, growing ever so slightly dimmer even as she watched. "HE'S ALIVE!" Lacus shouted, startling them all. Glory stared at her for a second, uncomprehending. "I can feel his mind! He's close to death, but if he was dead I couldn't have felt him!" Lacus insisted.

"Thank you God..." Glory whispered under his breath, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. He gently reached forward and felt Sai's neck, his brow furrowed in concentration, before he broke out into a very tight, feral smile. "She's fucking right! She's FUCKING RIGHT! He's got a pulse... thready, but it's there! He needs a doctor, NOW! CORPORAL, GIMME YOUR DAMN SHIRT, WE HAVE TO STOP THE BLEEDING!" Waltfeld and Murrue also crowded closer, offering what first aid training they could, which wasn't much helpful for wounds like what Sai had. His upper body was mostly unharmed, except for abrasions and bruises and minor cuts. There was a very big, bloody bruise on his temple that looked serious, but it was his lower body that drew most of their attention. There was a seven inch slash across Sai's lower back, where the Pulsar's thumb blade had sliced across him on his way to the ground. The slash was more than three inches deep... if Sai had been a half foot closer to the Pulsar's claw, he'd have been cut in half. as things were, his spine was cleanly seperated by the initial slash, and broken in two more places by the blunt force trauma that had followed. His hips and pelvis had been half crushed as well, and there were several compound fractures in his lower legs, while his left foot was all but pulped. It was a small mercy that he was unconscious, and couldn't feel his lower body anyway, because the pain would have been unimaginable.

Lacus stood slightly aside from the four people working on saving Sai's life, wracking her brain mightily for some sort of solution. She could contact Kira, and get him to put out a call for help... but any potential distraction could be very costly, given how the battle with Frost was going. He was mostly shut off from her still, but that in itself told her how well things were going... or not well, as it were. But if they didn't get some sort of real medical support here soon, Sai WOULD die, and so would many of the other people they'd pulled out of the wreckage before she found him. As things were, she'dbeen prodding lightly at his mind, trying to send feelings of reassurance and comfort to him, but the more she touched his mind, the weirder it felt. Spongy and vapid and not at all like the Sai Argyle she'd met earlier that day. Something was seriously wrong with him, beyond even his shattered legs and spine... Lacus felt her eyes drawn again and again to the ugly, livid bruise on Sai's temple. He was hanging on for dear life... but what sort of life he'd managed to hang onto, she couldn't be sure.

A flash of bright color caught her attention, and Lacus focused her gaze. She couldn't claim to have the eyesight of Athrun or Kira, but her Coordinator eyes were much better than most Naturals, and it took her only a second or two to catch sight of the color again. Bright red and pink, it was a person in a flight suit trotting more or less at the ruins of the Capitol Building, as much as the ruined cityscape allowed them too. It only took Lacus a moment or two more... and a brief touch of her mind... to recognize Cagalli. Wondering where the Strike Rubicon was, and afraid she already knew the answer, Lacus called out and waved her hands back and forth to get her friend's attention. Cagalli waved back and broke into a semblance of a sprint, covering the broken ground much faster than she had been before, at any rate.

"I thought that was you..." Cagalli said, slightly breathlessly, about twenty seconds later, when she'd reached easy talking distance of Lacus. "... That hair of yours stands out like a road flare." Cagalli pressed a hand to her side to help herself catch her breath as she slowed to a walk, she carried the survival kit box from the Rubicon in her other hand. "Your face is bleeding again. I've got some bandages we can put on there..."

"No time." Lacus interrupted, almost snatching the box from Cagalli. "Sai is dying, he needs all the medical supplies we can spare him!" Lacus turned and darted back down the pile of rubble she'd climbed, slipping and slidding on the loose debris. "Have you a radio, or some other way of contacting the Isolationist Military?"

"Umm, yeah, there's a short wave set in the box... but Kira said Sai was dead. Well, he didn't say it, he more screamed it, and went after Frost like nothing I've seen him do before but..." Cagalli replied, nonplussed for a moment by Lacus's actions... she was unused to the overtly decisive and pushy Lacus, since usually Cagalli was out in a Mobile Suit during the times when Lacus manifested it. Cagalli was a freaking Head of State herself, supposedly a equal partner for leadership of the Clyne Faction, and she still found herself jumping at Lacus's command when things were like this. It didn't exactly rankle... it was just disconcerting. Cagalli watched Lacus provide the survival box to the absolutely massive Hellhound, whom Cagalli vaguely recognized as the man who'd almost killed her and Athrun with a missile launcher during the fight in the subway complex on Purgatory Day. Funny how situations could change, friends and allies becoming enemies, enemies becoming friends and allies. The Hellhound... Sergeant-Major Glory, Cagalli thought his name was, took the box from Lacus with a heavy nod of thanks, ripping it open, ignoring the blood leaking down his wrists from the injuries Kira had inflicted. Plainly the Hellhound was in a state of mind where his own pain didn't reach him.

Glory passed the medical supplies and blankets he found in the survival box to Ramierez, who had steadier hands for first aid than Glory did, especially given his wrist injuries. He could ignore the pain, but he couldn't still the trembling and weakness in his hands, and so he didn't trust himself to help with any serious attemps at staunching Sai's bleeding or setting his bones. Glory took a step back, removing the short wave radio and three smoke grenades from the survival box. He tuned the radio with restrained haste, until he picked up a good and clear signal. "This is Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory, of the Presidential Security Agency, requesting immediate medical evacuation under code Zulu-Foxtrot-Niner-One-Sierra. Repeat, code ZF91S. This is a priority signal, all recieving units pass it up your chain of command. Location is Denver Capitol Building. Look for blue and red smoke. I repeat, this is..."

"We hear you, Sergeant-Major. Acknowledge code ZF91S! Medical evac inbound, ETA five minutes. Is location secure, over?"

"FUCK SECURE! DIDN'T YOU HEAR THE FUCKING CODE!? ZF91-FUCKING-S!! STEP THE FUCK ON IT, WE DON'T HAVE FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!! BLUE AND RED SMOKE, SOUTHWEST SIDE OF THE BUILDING! GLORY, OUT!" Glory screamed into the radio, veins and tendons standing out along his neck and face. Muttering dire imprecations under his breath, he popped the blue and red smoke grenades and tossed them downwind of where Ramierez and the Clyne Faction people, now joined by Cagalli Zala-Attha, sans Mobile Suit, were working on Sai. "MED-EVAC IN FIVE MINUTES, CORPORAL!"

"FIVE MINUTES, AYE, SARGE-MAJOR!"

"MS. CLYNE, WE'RE LEAVING AS SOON AS THE CHOPPERS GET HERE! DO WHATEVER IT IS YOU DO, AND LET THE OTHER FOUR KNOW WE GOT SUPPORT INCOMING!"

"Katie already knows, thank you, Mr. Glory." Lacus replied. She turned her attention to Cagalli, now that there was little they could do besides wait and hope. "So, what happened... your lack of Mobile Suit is somewhat noticable?"

"What do you think happened?" Cagalli said, her voice light but her tone sour and somewhat shaky. She quickly outlined what little she'd contributed to the fight against Frost and the Pulsar, and the outcome of her admittedly foolish charge against him. "I thought I could at least distract him long enough to give Athrun an advantage, since we had him sort of hemmed in between the buildings. Failing that, I was hoping to buy time for Kira and Ysak to recover, and for Dearka and Mir to get into a better position. I accomplished that anyway... though I almost died and the Rubicon got decapitated and disabled before Dearka saved me. Its just not fair... I try so damned hard, and I get my ass handed to me every time I get into a serious fight! Kira wasn't joking though, when he talked about how there's a difference between how he piloted the Pulsar, and how Frost does... theres just no comparing it!"

"But you say that Frost has left? Did he run away?" Lacus was frowning... it didn't seem like something Frost would do, running away from a fight where he was, at least nominally, winning, even if the odds were five or more to one against. Indeed, Frost seemed to enjoy MORE the fights where the odds were against him, and she'd only known him to retreat after being beaten to the point of nigh destruction, and sometimes even then it wasn't voluntary.

"Don't think so, doesn't seem like something he'd do... especially given that we haven't even really scratched him yet. Whatever it is he's doing though, he was shouting something over all channels about his destiny and someone called Noah or something, and then he took off towards orbit, or so it looked. Mir was saying that she'd intercepted some comms traffick from the Isolationist forces up in space... apparently ZAFT has realized that someone... us... has warned the Earth about Operation Overload, and they're breaking with their timetable to attack... now, actually."

"Never rains but it pours!" Waltfeld commented, slapping a hand to the side of his head in exasperation as he caught the tail end of that conversation. "So now we could have gigaton category EMP bombs raining down from orbit sometime within the next hour or so? ZAFT can't afford to be too choosy about their placement anymore, they're probably just going to drop em and detonate them as quickly as they can, and damn the coverage. Of course, its going to be catastrophic for the Earth, either way."

"We won't let it happen." Lacus said firmly. "We won't let a single bomb detonate. We've come to the very brink, but we WON'T step over it into the abyss beyond! I won't let us!"

"Um, no offense, Lacus, but we might not be able to do much..." Cagalli said slowly. "Kira and the others are going with Ashino, who says he has some way of getting them into orbit without using a mass driver... something called Shooting Stars..."

"Its something Sai had built recently, in order to provide our forces with more mobility in the advent of a serious ZAFT orbital attack." Glory spoke up. "Realizing the advantage of holding the high ground, and recognizing the impossibility of being able to rapidly deploy countering forces to orbit from Earth without using mass drivers, of which we only have two at the moment, and neither close by, Sai commissioned the Shooting Star program. They're not complicated, old tech really... just really big, one shot chemical booster rockets. Harness a Mobile Suit to one or two of them, light the ignition circuit, fire your thrusters and hang on for dear life. Its not pretty, or especially fun, but it'll get you there. I can't stress enough to you how expensive they are... old tech still costs an arm and a freaking leg, even one shot rockets, but Sai was never afraid to spend the money when needed, unlike most Presidents..."

"Right..." Cagalli shot a small glare at Glory for the interruption. "Anyway, Kira and the others are headed up after Frost. But they're going to have their hands more than full dealing with the Pulsar... I don't know if they're going to be able to spare much to intercept the Angry Sky bombs."

"We'll find a way." Lacus replied, her voice totally sure. The sound of helicopter blades made them all look up. The med-evac had arrived. And none too soon.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HO... LY... SH... IT...!!" Dearka screamed, his face turned to one side as he fought against the G-forces pressing him painfully into his piloting couch. He had one eye squeezed shut, and was darting glances at his screens with the other half open and filled with tears of effort. He was ignoring pretty much everything that didn't have to do with his angle of movement... which was pretty damned near straight up. It had to stay that way too... too much of an angle in any direction but directly up, and the rockets would run out of fuel before he ran out of gravity, and then he and Mir would have about five to ten minutes to enjoy their VERY LONG free fall back to Earth, with little chance of any sort of enjoyable landing. It was harder than he'd thought, keeping them on course... while the rockets themselves, of which there were three for the Grand Buster's great mass, were aerodynamic and went pretty much where they were supposed to... but the Grand Buster was emphatically not very aerodynamic, and the irregular air resistance the Gundam's profile was exerting forced Dearka to be constantly adjusting them with their thrusters. The noise of the chemically fueled rockets drowning everything out, so he could barely even hear himself think, with a vibration that seemed to be tearing his flesh loose from his bones, didn't help matters.

Still, he couldn't deny that, given what the rockets were supposed to do, they were doing a DAMN fine job of it. The rockets were one shot platforms for getting Mobile Suits and even small warships into space directly from the surface of the Earth, without recourse to a mass driver. The rockets were extremely expensive, could only be used once, were far from comfortable and required skills to use correctly... but BOY, were they ever quick and convienent! His airspeed was approaching Mach 6, which wasn't a speed he'd ever expected to see a Mobile Suit reach, outside of pipe dreams! It wasn't a speed Mobile suits were designed for, really, and he was somewhat afraid that he was going to lose an arm or leg on the way up, though the Grand Buster seemed to be holding together all right so far, with barely a tremor here and there. There were a series of stupendously loud clunks and thumps, and his heart rose into his mouth for a moment before he realized that the rockets had just exhausted a fuel stage and were moving on to the... the next stage kicked in before he could finish his thought, pressing him even harder back into his seat. "OW... W... W... W..."

Before he was fully ready for it, the thundering of the rocket booster died away all at once, and he felt the familiar stomach flip that came with sudden exposure to micro-gravity. He'd... made it to orbit? The crushing G-forces fell away all at once, and he sucked in several deep breaths, luxuriating in the lack of stress on his body. The Grand Buster shuddered slightly as the triplicate of booster rockets, their size reduced by three quarters because of the loss of the expended stages, disengaged from the Grand Buster and drifted slowly away, to eventually join the junk belt of space debris that encircled the Earth. Dearka brought all of his screens back to active duty, noting the dots on his close range IFF display indicating the four other Mobile Suits that had likewise ascended to orbit on the huge wings of fire provided by the Shooting Stars. He had mixed feelings about counting Ashino as an ally... he was a BCPU as well, just like Frost, and Dearka had fought against him several times before as dire enemies... but it was also true that they'd never have made it to orbit without him, and also true that when fighting Frost and the Pulsar, they needed all the help they could get!

"Mir, you okay?" Dearka asked, realizing that Mir had yet to activate her screens as well. He winced... the ascent to orbit had been brutal, even for him... for a Natural it must have been...

"One more thing..." Mir's voice was weak, but growing stronger by the moment. "... To add to the list... of things... we're NEVER... EVER... going to do again..." She raised an arm tiredly, and gave him a lopsided thumbs up gesture. Her screens winked on, one by one, and painted a picture that cut short any further banter between them. They were in low orbit, a few hundred kilometers outside of the red zone, the upper limit of Earth's gravity well. "Above" them, further out from Earth, a huge mass of ships and smaller craft swirled and eddied, turning in on itself constantly in the most violent close quarter's fleet engagement Dearka had ever seen. Capital ships were blasting at each other from more than just point blank range, some of them were barely more than a few hundred meters from each other, which in space terms was practically touching! Some ships had RAMMED each other, though whether that was accident or artifice, he couldn't tell. Squadrons of Strike Daggers and Strike Crusaders, along with the new Isolationist Space Mobile Armors, the Moebius Flare's, darted and wove through the battle zone, pursued by and pursuing teams of Elementals, Guiazes and even the odd CuGue... ZAFT was plainly scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of war material, since the most modern CuGue was still almost two years out of date... and it showed.

"I don't see any immediate sign of the Puls..." Miriailla was cut off by a string of detonations that danced their way through the middle of the battle, Nelson Class destroyers and Nezca Class frigates spinning away in wreckage, gouting plasma fire and oxygen into the void. "Never mind, there he is. Nobody has a heat signature like him!"

"Something is wrong here." Ashino's unexpected voice came over the comm line. Dearka shivered a little... the guy was as cold as fucking ice! Not even Ysak, or Athrun, was THAT calm during battle! Creepy...

"Yeah, a homicidal madman in possession of the most powerful Gundam around is wreaking bloody havoc and we might not be able to stop him. I'd call that pretty fucking WRONG!" Ysak spat derisively.

"More than that." Ashino replied. "They're not acting as a cohesive whole. It's like the chain of command has been cut somewhere, and the individual commanders are being forced to rely on their own judgements. I can't get through... they're in a panic, no one is responding to my hails!" Frustration was evident now in Ashino's voice. The Isolation forces here heavily outnumbered the ZAFT forces, but without cohesive tactics and a directing presence, their combat effectiveness was incredibly diminished. Who was giving orders? WAS anyone giving orders?

"The chain of command HAS been cut." Kira's voice, strained and tight, echoed over the comm. "Frost killed Sai."

"No! That's not possible!" Ashino shouted in anger. "I warned..."

"I saw him do it with my own eyes. He swatted them like they were bugs." Kira's voice was gentle, though it was obvious to Dearka that Kira badly wanted to shout and rage too. "I'm sorry... but he's gone."

"Surely there's a backup!? Someone who can take charge if the commander in chief is incapacitated!?" Athrun asked, concern and frustration twinging in his voice.

"Cyprus was second in command, as commander of the Military. But he was with Sai." Ashino said slowly. "As commander of the Mobile Forces, I'm likely the senior officer here... but I cannot get through to the Orbital Defence Forces without the proper codes... which Sai and Cyprus have."

"GOOD CHRIST, WHAT A FUCKED UP SYSTEM! GOODAMN, WAS HE THE FUCKING PRESIDENT, OR FUCKING EMPEROR!? I THOUGHT THE ISOLATION WAS A DEMOCRACY, NOT A DESPOTISM! DIDN'T HE TRUST ANY FUCKING AUTHORITY TO HIS SUBORDINATES!?" Ysak exploded in a disbelieving rage. "WHAT A FUCKING MORON!"

The Independence swung around,to point its gatling cannon not so subtly at the Duelist. "Do not speak ill of President Argyle, or I'll take issue with you." Ashino said, voice deadly calm again. "In answer to your question, no, he did not. How could he, especially with something as dangerous as the military might of the Isolation? That kind of power, in the hands of someone unscrupulous... it wasn't worth the risk of some fanatic or hatemonger trying to use the Isolation to renew the war. All our strategic assets and major troop deployment orders, even most minor strategic orders, all have to be routed through the President. It makes for a lot of paperwork, but made an artificial paralyzation of the military forces easy to achieve, preventing anyone from acting without the President's say so. It was part of his process towards building peace, you see... remove the ability to make war easily."

"GREAT! FUCKING PERFECT! ALL THEY CAN DO IS FOLLOW FUCKING ORDERS! WONDER..." Ysak was cut off when Kira sent a bone jarring squeal of feedback across the commline.

"Thats enough. We have enough problems, without creating more by fighting amongst ourselves. If we don't work together, we won't beat Frost. Its that simple, and we ALL know it." Kira took a deep breath, obviously calming himself down too. "Mr. Ashino, personally I agree with Ysak, but thats neither here nor there. I don't much like you, but Lacus vouches for you as a good person, and that is enough for me, right now. Please, do what you can to contact the Isolation forces... at the very least, see if you can get them to not try and shoot us down... we don't need people taking pot shots at us while we're engaged with Frost."

"I shall do as you ask, because, despite my personal dislike of YOU, , you are indeed right. Though there is not a thing I can do about ZAFT, and I will destroy as many of the aggressors... which means ZAFT... as I can. I won't let Sai's sacrifice be in vain by letting the PLANTS destroy civilization on Earth with their EMP bombs!"

"Dearka, Mir, I want you to hang back more towards the edges of the fight... the Grand Buster would be unnecessarily vulnerable at close ranges, especially in that melee over there. If you get a good shot at Frost, good, take it... but primarily I want you to be coordinating our efforts and watching out for any sign of the Angry Sky bombs. Taking those out is your top priority, okay? The rest of us are going to have precious little attention to spare for them."

"Kill the bombs, you got it."

"Athrun, you and Ysak and I will go after Frost directly. Mr. Ashino, can you use those lightning projectors again?"

"I can acquire a charge rapidly enough, I believe."

"Good. We're going to try and herd or lead Frost to you. Those blasts were the only thing I've yet seen that even remotely troubled the Pulsar's shields... even if you can just knock him off balance again, it might be enough for us to get in a telling blow... one good hit is all we need, and then the Pulsar will rip itself apart if it tries to maneuver away."

"It's possible that the Isolation fleet has a few FRALA units... they can pierce the Pulsar's shields with ease. I'll let you know more if... and when... I get into solid contact with the fleet commanders." Ashino added.

"Okay. Be careful... we're going to need ALL of us to beat him, so don't do anything too reckless." Kira admonished.

"You too, Kira... I remember Jachin Due, even if you don't." Athrun retorted, with a small smile, as the five of them flew to confront the madman and his destiny.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ma'am. Ma'am! Ma'am, you can't go in there! It's restricted area! You should be in the medical ward, ma'am. HEY, are you listening to me!? HALT! HALT NOW! HALT OR I'LL SHOOT!" The Military Policeman standing guard in the hallway leading to the central communications hub of NORAD mountain, which was the de facto Isolation Military Headquarters these days. Usually there was a lot more than one guard on duty, but all non-essential personnel had been called out into the search and rescue efforts being directed towards the ruins of Denver, leaving him to confront this damnably hard situation by himself. He had his orders and they were clear... no one without proper access was allowed to even touch the door to the comms room. He was allowed to use lethal force to prevent such unathorized entries, or attempts at entries. He had his gun out even. But his hands were trembling, and he was praying, and praying hard that he wouldn't have to use it. Quite how he'd ever manage to explain that he'd been forced to shoot Lacus Clyne was beyond him. Why Lacus Clyne was here at ALL was beyond his ability to comprehend, but even with her face and arms bandaged, he could not mistake her for anyone else, and one look into her metallic, lavender blue eyes convinced him utterly that this was the real deal.

"Stand down, PFC. Thats an order." Sergeant-Major Thomas Glory said firmly, shooting the trembling MP a nasty glare. Lacus didn't even spare the man a second glance... she knew he wouldn't actually shoot her... knew it even when he himself didn't. And if he tried, well... she hoped it wouldn't come to that, because she was feeling bad enough after her mental manhandling of Glory and Ramierez earlier.

"I... I'm... I'm sorry, Sergeant-Major, but you are not in my chain of command! I cannot follow that order, respectfully!" The MP replied, swallowing hard. He was right, but Sergeant-Major's scared him. They scared everyone who was enlisted. This particular Sergeant-Major was just about the epitome of everything scary about Sergeant-Major's... he was HUGE, and rough looking, with a nasty look in his eyes, covered in wounds that he was apparently ignoring somehow, and he was growling, or perhaps mumbling darkly to himself, but the MP found a reserve of courage somewhere. His orders were clear... NO ONE without clearance was to go into the comms room, even if they WERE Lacus Clyne!

"We don't have time for this." Waltfeld said grimly, flexing and unflexing his prosthetic fingers with tiny electrical hums, the tiny motion nonetheless drew a great deal of the frightened attention of the young MP, who flinched every time Waltfeld curled his mechanical hand into a fist.

"I agree." Katie said,one hand ever so slowly inching towards her belt, where she had a small knife stored. She didn't want to get into an altercation with this guard, especially since he had a gun and she didn't, but Waltfeld was absolutely right. They didn't have much time at all. With Sai basically out of the picture, and the next two people in the chain of command either missing or incommunicado, the Isolation was staggering around like a chicken with its head cut off. Damn stupid of Sai to concentrate basically all executive order giving powers into the hands of himself, his wife and his two best friends, but really, if the situation hadn't been what it was, the system could have worked, and worked well, for what he was trying to do. Sadly, the situation was what it was, and now the Isolation was flopping around, mostly uselessly, and they HAD to do something to give it life and direction back, or else, even if they beat Frost, the situation wouldn't really improve, with ZAFT still engaged in a fruitless struggle to destroy civilization on Earth.

"Well, PFC, I do happen to have authorization. Let me show you." Glory said, sighing heavily, one hand reaching towards his pants pocket. As expected, the nervous guard leaned towards him, craning to get a good view of what he was desperately hoping was the answer to his inner conflict. He got it too, just not like he'd been expecting. Glory's other hand swung up high and then back down, his fist striking the back of the guard's neck just under the back of the skull. He didn't put his full weight into it, but he was too tired to pull much off it either, and the MP went down like a sack of wet sand, spittle flying from his slack jaw. The guard wouldn't be getting back up for a good while, but Glory was pretty sure he hadn't inflicted any lasting harm, besides the worst headache the man would ever experience.

"Thank you, Mr. Glory." Lacus said, nodding slightly at him. "I know it can't be easy for you to be helping us like this, but I want you to know you have my deepest apprecia..."

"Can it, Ms. Clyne." Glory took the pistol from the limp guard, and took his security badge from him as well. "I'm not doing this cause I like you, or even feel you're a particularly good leader. You're pretty, spirited, charming and idealistic, and you get big bonus points in the media for it too, but you're a bit too... hopeful, I guess, for me. I'm a cynic, so perhaps thats not fully your fault. But right now, one of the two men I respect most in the world is in the ICU, barely alive, and he might not live out the day even then. The other is still missing on the field of battle, almost certainly wounded, perhaps dying or already dead, much as I don't want to believe it. IF either of those men were here, now, able to give me orders or direction, I feel that they'd be telling me that you, Ms. Clyne, are the last good chance we have of pulling SOMETHING worthwhile out of this clusterfuck! So THAT's why I'm helping you. Not cause I like you. Not cause I want your appreciation. Cause Sai and Cyprus would want me too, capiche?" Glory stomped over to the door and swiped the guard's card, unlocking the door with a click... security this deep into the installation wasn't any tougher than mere security cards, what with all the safeguards in the first few security layers.

Lacus led the six of them... herself, Katie, Cagalli, Waltfeld, Murrue and Glory... into the mted sounds and semi-darkness of the communications hub. Ramierez was with Sai in the Intensive Care Unit of the installation's medical ward, while Alkire, Kisaka and Raine were in another medical suite nearby. As soon as she'd made sure her friends were receiving the care they needed, Lacus had asked Glory where the communications center was, and then headed off to find it right afterwards, refusing medical help of her own. Disregarding pleas from her friends to rest or to see a doctor, they'd had little choice but to follow her as she homed unerringly in on the communications center, plucking fragments of directions from the minds of the people she passed so she wouldn't get lost, leaving crowds of stunned and blinking people behind her as she went, wondering if that REALLY was Lacus Clyne, and why their heads were so damn fuzy suddenly? Lacus knew she was making it up as she went along, but something about the situation just felt so... right... that her confidence levels just kept soaring higher and higher. She was using her Newtype gifts in ways she'd never thought to before, and it was just coming naturally to her, as long as she didn't think too deeply about it.

"HEY! You can't be here! How the hell did you get in..." A Colonel, the current duty officer in charge of the comms center, sat up in surprise from his command chair in the middle of the room. His finger darted for an alarm button on his chair. That is, until his gaze met Lacus's, and he froze, stiff as an icebound tree. His eyes widened tremendously, and he gave a soft gurgle of wonder, or perhaps it was fear, and then his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed bonelessly back into his chair, slithering down and out of it to fall again onto the floor. The five communications technicians on duty around the edges of the room stared in disbelief, stunned at the sudden intrusion of so many internationally recognized personages, much less the inexplicable behavior of the Colonel, who was not known to have fainting episodes.

"Please tell me he passed out from natural causes. Even poison needles or something." Glory commented sourly, goosebumps running up and down his arms and spine.

"I could tell you that." Katie said, swallowing hard. "I'd be lying though."

"Did Lacus just make him pass out?" Cagalli asked in a whisper, poking Katie's side. "How the hell did she do that... I mean, I thought he was a Stump... you know, like, immune to Newtype stuff..."

"Not so much immune as very, very resistant. Still, apply enough force and you can do pretty much anything, apparently." Katie answered, with a weak grin. "Lacus is currently applying enough force, it seems. Heh, heh... I'm scared of her, I'll have you know."

"Everyone, I need you to please remain calm." Lacus announced, ignoring the looks pretty much everyone was shooting her. She'd have a lot of things to explain later... a lot of soul searching to do. But now wasn't the time. As she spoke, she reached out with her most familiar Newtype power, projecting the emotions she desired onto the people around her. She considered leaving her friends out of the effect, but her control was already tenuous at best, and making things more complex was probably not a good idea. She just hoped they'd forgive her, in this extreme situation. She saw the effect at once, as all five of the surprised technicians sat back down and returned to their tasks, though they did shoot her an awed and somewhat troubled glance every now and then. Plainly they hadn't the slightest idea what was going on, or why they were being so calm about it, but there wasn't much they could do anyway, was there? She encouraged those feelings, not hopelessness, but just acceptance of what was. Waltfeld gently removed the unconscious Colonel from the floor and propped him against the wall near the door, where Katie and Glory were standing somewhat guard, though they spent more time warily watching Lacus than the door.

"Thank you. Cagalli, please come up here with me." Lacus asked, sitting down in the now vacant command chair. She turned her attention to the communications techs. "I need to prepare an outgoing broadcast, on all channels, public and private, except for the international aid channel. That includes all news feeds, including any public stations the PLANTS can pick up. Can you do that here?"

"Well... yes... but we need authorization..." The senior tech spoke up.

"Staff Sergeant, the President is in the ICU. Supreme Commander Finch is MIA, and Commander Ashino is out of contact. The First Lady is dead. Before he went into the ICU, the President told me, Sergeant-Major Thomas Renault Glory, that he was investing executive powers in extremis to Ms. Lacus Clyne here. You have my word, as acting head of the Presidential Security Agency. She IS the President, until he takes his powers back, understand? Is that authorization enough for you?" Glory spoke up, his voice a blunt snarl. Of course, the six of them knew that Sai had said no such thing, indeed that he was in a deep coma and COULD not say such a thing. Glory wasn't even sure that such a transferral of authority was possible, much less legal. Still, he was betting this staff sergeat sure as fuck didn't know better, either way.

"Yes, Sergeant-Major, that will do fine! Sorry, Sergeant-Major but there are protocols we have to follow and..."

"Get on with it!" Glory barked.

"Captain Ramius, I'm sorry to ask you this, but I need you to help coordinate the techs, and act as my stage director. Can you do that for me?" Lacus asked.

"Shouldn't be a problem, Lacus. Andrew, I'll need your help too." Murrue replied at once.

"Say the word, Murrue." Waltfeld hopped down into the indented part of the floor where the comm techs had their stations, slipping on a spare headset and handing another up to Murrue.

"You're making it hard to think clearly." Cagalli complained quietly, once she was standing next to Lacus.

"I know, I'm sorry, but my fine control isn't what it could be. I can affect all of you, or none of you, but not something in between." Lacus replied, equally quietly. "Forgive me for influencing you against your will, but its the only way I can even begin to see having a chance."

"When its you, Lacus, I see it more as "guiding me towards the right solution" rather than influencing me against my will, especially in this case." Cagalli said with a tight smile. "Play the cards as you have to, Lacus... sometimes people need someone else to pull the wool off their eyes, because they just don't have the inner strength or perspective to do it themselves. Help everyone see what's really at stake here, what we're doing to each other... because if you don't, then things are only going to get worse." Cagalli paused a few moments. "Though, you better not do this very often, because I'm really creeped out."

"Communications channels accessed... boosting signal... boosting signal... required signal strength acquired... going live with video in real time in five... four... three... two... one... LIVE!" The senior comms tech announced, her voice clipped and professional.

Lacus faced the camera, and affixed her most serious expression on her face...not that it was too hard to do that, since she was as serious as she'd ever been before. She stared into the video lens, and concentrated on projecting EVERYTHING she was feeling out into her audience. This was not a time to dissemble, or hide, or speak in political platitudes. This was a time for a message from her heart and soul, and she could only pray it would reach people in time. "Hello everyone. My name is Lacus Clyne, and there is something of extreme importance I need to discuss with all of you, both on Earth and in the PLANTS..."


	105. Flames of the Soul

"Right now, in near Earth orbit, military forces from Earth and ZAFT are currently engaged with each other in a life or death battle to decide the fate of the human race. Or that is what they believe they are doing, in any case. They are wrong. The battle... is pointless." Lacus said, her eyes boring into the camera, trying to look every last person in her audience of millions, perhaps billions, right in their eyes. It was said that the eyes were portals into the soul, and Lacus definitely wanted that to be true right now, because the more of her soul, and the torment and suffering it was experiencing, that she could show to the people watching her, the fewer words she would have to use, and thus the fewer chances she'd have to lose the full impact of her message. There was nothing worse than an overlong or windy message for reducing its impact on the target audience. She had to grab their attention, speak up, speak out, make her point and drive it home, as quickly, concisely and powerfully as possible. She saw that Murrue and Waltfeld had called up real time video images of the battle taking place in orbit and were streaming them live alongside her own brodcast.

"Many would argue that no battle is pointless, that any time where men and women strive with their lives for goals they believe in, that it has some worth, somehow. I am forced to disagree in the strongest possible terms with that opinion. The men and women of ZAFT and the Isolation currently doing battle are throwing their lives away because they have been misguided... allowed themselves to be misguided. Harsh words, I know, and no one wants to hear them... but they need to be said. What we're doing is wrong. We're wrong! We're ALL wrong! This fight, this war, this Isolation, this ZAFT... its all wrong!" Lacus lent forward slightly. "The first step to righting a wrong is to admit that there has been a wrong in the first place... we cannot fix what we don't believe to be broken! Its hard to see what is wrong, I know... after all, we've all been told, repeatedly, that our course is right! That we're doing the right thing! That ZAFT is right! That the Isolation is right! That I am right, that YOU are right... but we AREN'T! This so called path of rightness has led us to a knife's edge ledge, with disaster yawning below us on either side! If the Isolation is right and ZAFT is wrong, then the PLANTS face starvation and the loss of millions of innocent civilians! If ZAFT is right and the Isolation is wrong, modern civilization on Earth will cease to exist, with a death toll no one can guess. Why is it that the RIGHT PATH ends up in millions of innocent people dying, either way!? HOW CAN THAT BE RIGHT!?"

"But they forced us to! Its not our fault, is it!? THEY did it to US, after all. If they hadn't done THIS, then we'd never do THAT, but they DID, so we WILL! That's what we're doing, this very instant! We're blaming each other, refusing to accept blame for what we have done! I can't claim to live a perfect life... I blame people for things, and sometimes refuse to accept responsibility for my own wrongs. I'm no different than any one of you out there watching right now, Coordinator or Natural! I'm a human being, just like the rest of us, and that means I'm not perfect! I make mistakes! But the essence of humanity... our ability to peacefully progress... relies on our ability to ACKNOWLEDGE OURSELVES, for good or bad! If you can't accept the idea that you can do wrong, you will do no right! Look at yourselves! Look at your actions! Have you done the right thing, when you had the choice? Did you offer aid when it was needed, lend a listening ear, a shoulder to the injured, a steady word to the fearful? Did you? I haven't always, I have to admit. Its human nature to think of yourself too. But you cannot fall into the trap of excusing being self centered as just human nature, because it is part of human nature to care about others as well. Family, friends, countrymen, and humanity as a whole!"

"Its hard to face up to these facts. Its embarassing, and frightening, and there's going to be consequences for our actions, and nobody wants to face them. But we have to. We need to face the darkness we find inside ourselves, because if we don't strive through the night, we'll never see a worthwhile dawn! We need to realize that we DON'T HAVE to be afraid of each other! That we may be different, whether it be in color of skin, religious ethos, country of birth or even the circumstances of our time in our parent's wombs... but being different doesn't make one person better or more worthwhile than any other person, on an inherent level! People are people are people! Right now, people are dying because we all refuse to accept that they ARE people, because if we do accept that, we have to take responsibility for what we've DONE to them, rather than just fume about what they've DONE to us! That is what I'm asking you to do... take responsibility! Accept your own actions, and try to accept theirs as well! It hurts, I know, when your loved ones are suddenly gone, killed by people and events you cannot control. It's happened to me before, and it may well happen again, especially if we don't get the course of humanity back on track. But killing them won't make anyone come back from the dead, and only makes them feel your pain, and desire to inflict it back on you again!"

Lacus leaned back in her chair again. "I can't ask any of you to do something I myself would not do, so I shall take the lead." Lacus stood up. "I am Lacus Clyne. And I am so terribly, terribly sorry! I can't express my sorrow in words nor in actions, merely pray that you somehow understand, even a little. I cannot take back my previous actions, nor alter the flow of history to bring back your loved ones that may have been injured, lost or killed because of my actions. I have no excuses to give for the way my ideas and efforts have shaped the world into what it is today, merely having to say that I acted as I thought I should. I could very well be wrong, and it is YOUR place to judge that, not mine. I am not perfect. I get angry. I become sad. I say things to hurt the person closest to me out of spite sometimes, even though I know he's just concerned for me. I am afraid. I do feel lost, and alone, and cold, espcially since many of the people I love most are currently involved in that life or death struggle up in space. Kira Yamato, my heart and soul, could very well die soon. Might already be dead. And if he is... it will be my fault, because I asked him to go. And for that, I am sorry." Lacus bowed deeply from the waist, not having to fake or hide the tears in her eyes. "Please forgive me."

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Ashino gritted his teeth, as a pair of Moebius Flare's zoomed by just overhead, careening around the Nelson class destroyer he'd been using as visual cover from the Pulsar and nearly taking the Independence's head off at the shoulders. The problem was that he was visually covered from his OWN forces as well, which had resulted in several near collisions, given the frenetic nature of this battleground! At least no one on his own side had taken any panicked pot shots at him yet, though the Clyne Faction machines had suffered a few, which they had handled with admirable restraint. ZAFT Mobile Suits had made a few efforts against him, but the Independence's superior firepower had quickly dismantled them and sent the survivors reeling away. He'd ambushed a pair of Nazca classes that looked like they were trying to sprint through the middle of the battle to a low orbit position, either for a flanking maneuver or maybe to disgorge a certain special cargo... in either case it didn't matter because he'd blasted one to pieces and sliced the engines off the second, after draining enough power to fully charge his palm mounted Mjolnir capacitors.

A CuGue popped up behind him, shield mounted CIWS rattling a burst of shells harmlessly off the Independence's rear Phase Shift plating as it prepared to dive onto him with beam sword blazing. Ashino craned the Independence's head around and opened up with his own CIWS... all six of them, and CuGue armor wasn't nearly as doughty as Phase Shift. After the three second burst the ZAFT machine was more holes than not, and it drifted away, leaking a thin plume of frozen oxygen crytsals. Ashino scanned his immediate vicinity for more threats, and almost did a double take as he sighted the Pulsar, with its back to him, floating not more than a few kilometers away, sword held negligently in one hand, heated chain whip dangling from the opposite forearm. Frost didn't look to be engaged with anyone at the moment,though there was plenty of fresh wreckage in near proximity that suggested he hadn't been idle long. The Independence's sensors gave no indication that Frost had yet spotted Ashino, but he was cautious to take that with a grain of salt... the Pulsar was frightfully advanced after all.

Taking careful aim, though he did not really expect the shots to land, Ashino jammed his thrusters on to full power, blasting away with his full arsenal as he tried to close to absolute point blank range with Frost as quickly as possible... that was the only way he was going to have any chance at all of striking with the Mjolnir cannons. Given the Pulsar's speed and maneuverability, a normal pilot would have been easily able to evade Ashino's bullish rush... but with Frost in there, Ashino knew that the Pulsar wouldn't be able to resist returning the charge head on. He was relying on it, in fact. Frost would never back down from a direct challenge from Ashino, not in this arena! Just to be sure though... "Frost! You're done! It's time to end your nightmare!"

The Pulsar spun like greased lightning, palms rising, projecting the frustrating red fields of contained antimatter that consumed Ashinos cannon shells, missiles, beam blasts, railgun tracers and hyper impulse cannon shots with disdainful ease. "My nightmare is everlasting, Little Ashino. It's been going on my entire life, and it won't end until EVERYTHING ELSE DOES! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOU RIGHT NOW, LITTLE ASHINO, SO FORGIVE ME IF I MAKE THIS QUICK!" The Pulsar retracted its chain and took its sword in both hands, before leaping across space, directly at the Independence, just as Ashino had hoped. He discarded his gatling cannons and unlimbered the Independence's beam glaive, halfway between a spear and a sword, with grips for one or two handed use. Ashino kept his grip on his shield and glaive just barely tight enough so that he didn't drop them... he was only going to get one try at this, and he was going to need to free his palm projectors line of fire FAST. He thought about calling for aid from the Clyne Faction, but by then no one could possibly get there in time. This was between Ashino and Frost.

The two mobile suits barreled right at each other, adjusting courses just ever so slightly so that they'd instead pass each other. The beam glaive twirled and sliced in an arc, shield held low and inside defensively. The beam zweihander looped in, trailing orange fire behind it, both hands on the hilt for maximum power and control. There was an instant of convergence, a huge flash of red and gold sparks, a brief puff of ice crystals and then the two machines were past each other, turning at bay like warhorses passing each other on the tournament strip. The Independence's Citadel shield went spinning off into the darkness of space, and streamers of fire spat momentarily from the ravaged socket where its right arm and shoulder had used to be. The right half of the Independence's head was stoven in and half melted, and the great Isolationist Gundam's thrusters flickered weakly as it hung there in space, stunned and crippled. The Pulsar didn't have a single mar upon its skull grey surface. Holding its sword in a wary guard position for a few moments, the Pulsar studied its damaged opponent. The reactors of the Independence were all but off line, barely enough to keep life support going. It was missing an arm and most of its head, indicating that its sensors and weapon controls were gone. Cockpit temperature was falling rapidly, revealing some sort of breach of the atmospheric seal.

Frost chuckled triumphantly, slowly relaxing his guard. The Independence made no sudden movements... made no movements at all. Even when the Pulsar floated right up next to the Isolation Gundam and rapped the back of its hand on the Independence's chest, there was no response. He hadn't thought he'd struck the machine so telling a blow, but his sensors were not lying to him... the Independence was nothing more than floating scrap! He'd done it! Now there was just the tiny detail of the squirming meat in the cockpit to deal with. The all consuming need to hunt down and punish Noah for his betrayal abated somewhat... Little Ashino had some things coming to him as well, he sure did! Frost regretted that they had to be in space, because he had really been looking forward to settling his little brother once and for all in a more personal manner, but needs must, after all! Frost drew back the zweihander, poised to drive the point right through Ashino and his cockpit, not stopping until the hilt itself came out the back side! It was then that Ashino made his move.

The Independence's left arm jolted to life, using all the power Ashino had diverted from the life support system and heating systems instead of telltale power straight from the reactors so that Frost wouldn't realize that the Independence was still at least partly functional... certainly functional enough for Ashino's gamble. Palm out, fingers crooked into claws, Ashino thrust his left hand at the Pulsar for all he was worth, from a distance of less than five meters, and triggered his one remaining Mjolnir capacitor, which should have been more than powerful enough to reduce the entire Pulsar to little more than blackened paint chips. "I... DON'T... THINK... SO!" Frost crowed furiously, his right arm snaking out to lock palm to palm with Ashino's left hand. Frost triggered the right hand Positron shield at the same time that Ashino fired his Mjolnir cannon, the massive electrical blast leaping across the bare inches between its emitter and the Positron shield edge... and going no farther. White smoke and sparks blasted out of the Pulsar's right hand mechanisms, as purple-white bolts of lightning blasted backwards in a cone from between the two Gundams, the sun bright tendrils carving through the Independence like it was made of butter, before the explosive backwash threw the Gundams apart in a nova of pure white light.

Frost swore and hissed and raged as his hand felt like it had caught fire and BURNED, burning down to the bone, and then deeper still. Red light filled his vision as the Pulsar registered actual battle damage, serious enough to impede future system performance. His hand was broken! Well, it still functioned like a hand, the claws even still worked, since they were a simple mechanical release device. But anything electronic in his hand... including the right hand Positron shield emitter... was so much SLAG! His hand went numb as the Pulsar cut off "feeling" to it, and directed its self repair nanites to the area... but the damage was severe... it would be many hours, even days, before the shield was even partially functional again! DAMN ASHINO! TRICKSY LITTLE ASHINO! Frost swore he would tear him limb from limb and then chew the flesh from his bones, personally! But he couldn't see any trace of the Independence... it looked to have been annihilated by the backlash. Snarling in disappointment, Frost soothed himself with his hate of the betrayer, Noah, and went to go hunt him down again!

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Frost hadn't gone far at all, certainly not nearly far enough, when he sliced through yet another of the seemingly endless supply of Drake class frigates that the Isolationists used as escort and anti-mobile suit warships and found himself face to face, barely three hundred meters apart, with the Duelist and the Righteous, who had been responded to Ashino's status icon suddenly winking out on their displays. Frost smirked, as the two Coordinators hesitated for just that bare fraction of a second that communicated their fear of him so clearly, then split up, circling in on him from opposite sides. The Duelist went "low", the Righteous edged "high", and both blazed away at him with their ranged weapons as they approached. Switching his sword to his right hand, Frost used his left hand Positron shield in hurried back and forth sweeps to deflect and consume their firepower. Growling with frustration at being forced onto the defensive, Frost released his sword and snapped out his beam crossbow. He only had a couple more bolts for the blasted thing, and he saw no reason to conserve them.

The Righteous's flyer packs spiraled in on the Pulsar from behind, and so Frost whipped his right arm down and around and shot one of them right through the middle with his beam edged bolt, skewering it and cutting its control and guidance systems, causing it to corkscrew off into the depths of space. With no time to reload, Frost threw the inert mass of his crossbow at the second flyer pack, deflecting its course slightly as it slashed through the useless weapon, giving Frost plenty of time to snatch up his sword again and interpose it between them, deflecting the flyer pack up and away from him in a jarring impact that pushed the Pulsar into a slow front flip. With a thought, he activated his reverse thrusters, throwing the Pulsar straight backwards almost three kilometers, inches ahead of the descending beam swords of the Duelist and Righteous. Reversing momentum one hundred and eighty degrees, Frost came screaming back at them, sword once again gripped in both hands. He spun sharpely to the side as he approached them, slamming the sword edge on into the Righteous's shield, indenting the Citadel field barrier slightly for a moment and catapulting the red Gundam backwards with the kinetic impact. Letting the shivering sword float for a moment, Frost whiplashed both his arms at the Duelist, releasing the heat whips as he did so.

The right hand whip struck the Duelist's shield dead center, jolting the blue Gundam over to that side slightly, allowing the left hand whip to wrap several times around the Duelist's suspiciously empty right hand. As the Duelist brought its chainsaw edged shield over and down onto the heat whip, even as its "trapped" right hand clamped down with a solid grip on the chain wrapped around its forearm so that Frost could not easily disengage, Frost realized that he'd been tricked, again! Few things pushed his buttons like being tricked! This time though, the trick could cut both ways... watching the sparks fly as the Duelist's spinning shield edges started biting into his heat whip, Frost countered with a relatively simple tactic... he hit his thrusters. As hard as he could. Several hundred gravities of nearly instantaneous acceleration and about twenty kilometers later, Frost stopped, so he could untangle the detached arm from his heat whip. The whip was damaged, but given that it was mostly just a twenty five meter chain of extremely hard and heat resistant metal links, it wasn't like it was delicate... a few cuts and gouges wouldn't hurt it. Satisified that he hadn't suffered any injury, and chore finished, Frost returned to the fray at nearly the same acceleration as before, appearing next to the maimed Duelist as if by magic.

A frantic double tap from its shoulder mouted railgun was easily brushed aside with a wave of his Positron shield, and his other hand's claws licked out to dice the missiles leaving the hip launchers before their secondary boosters could even fire. The gatling beam cannon on the other shoulder canted down to blast at him, but a flick of his right hand heat whip ensnared the offending weapon neatly, and it took only a single jerk of his arm to rip the weapon mount cleanly off the Duelist's shoulder. The Duelist slammed its shield at Frost's chest in desperation, but Frost countered it with a kick that stopped the shield cold and even pushed the Duelist slightly back. The railgun fired at the Pulsar again, but its shot just disappeared into forever along with all the rest as it crossed the Positron shield barrier. Frost saw that the Righteous was fully recovered from the blow he'd dealt him, so he resolved to finish Scarface off quick. Frost drew both of his arms back again and let fly once more with both heat whips.

The left hand whip once again sailed easily past the Duelist's defenses, since there was no right arm to grab at it or try and block this time. The white hot metal links slammed into the Duelist's right hip, shattering the missile tubes there and digging deeply into the interior structures. The right hand whip struck the shield again, but instead of being deflected downwards, upwards or away from the Gundam, the whip skittered off the shield in a spray of sparks and then drew a second spray of sparks, as well as metal spallings and a gout of frozen air as it deflected off the shield and arrowed into the Duelist's left armpit area, destroying the shoulder joint and locking the limb in place. Frost bared his teeth in triumph... until the Duelist's left hand dropped the shield onto its left knee and grabbed hold of the right hand heat whip. Using his thrusters and that left hand grip as a guide, Ysak fired the Duelist like a rocket following a track right into the Pulsar. Frost managed to jet backwards in time to avoid a full on collision, but doing so prevented him from stopping the Duelist from accomplishing its goal... which was using its knee to drive its shield, edge first, into the Pulsar' right elbow. The shield howled silently and smoked as its teeth bit into both the Duelists's left knee join, where it was jammed, and the Pulsar's right arm armor.

The Duelist's left hand had been melted off from heat friction during its brief journey along the Pulsar's heat whip, but that didn't stop Ysak from hammering that left wrist into the side of the Pulsar's head, shattering one red crystal eye and snapping the Pulsar's torso backwards with recoil. The Duelists's shield sawed through the Duelists's left knee and the Pulsar's right arm just below the elbow at roughly the same time, before its motor seized up and it became inert wreckage. Frost watched the remains of his right arm, including the hand with its destroyed Positron emitter, the glowing red hot spiky thing on the back of the forearm and the still glowing white hot heat whip, go spinning off towards the Earth. His arm didn't hurt at all... but he couldn't feel it either. He'd never suffered a traumatic amputation before, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. Angry seemed to fit the bill nicely. It was one of those catch all emotions, good in every situation. The Pulsar attacked the crippled Duelist in a frenzy, single remaining heat whip slashing out again and again and again, smashing away armor, tearing off the head, ripping apart the remaining arm and leg, leaving huge dents in the torso region... Frost flayed the Duelist bare of flesh, and was just about to start in on the frame and soft interior when the Righteous arrived.

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Frost found that he'd broken out in a light sweat ever since he'd lost the lower arm, but he chalked it up to his mounting fury, which always served to get him hot and bothered like few other thing could. He slashed at the Duelist one more time with the whip, carving a fiery trail through its guts, all but disembowling the bastard, before turning his attention to Loser Zala-Attha. The Righteous blasted at him with its shoulder mounted railguns, but Frost twisted like an eel and sideslipped them with ease. He was done playing around. He pointed his right hand imperiously at the Righteous... and then switched limbs with a grimace when he remembered he no longer had a right hand... and popped his claws slowly, one by one, retracting the heat whip as he did so. Frost was more than aware of the remaining flyer pack sweeping from behind him, but he did not deign to react to it until the very last moment, before stretching the Pulsar out flat along its horizontal axis, allowing the flyer, its guns chattering uselessly, beam edged wings impotent, to skim a few meters above him. As it passed over he rammed his left hand upward, claws gathering into a piercing point that ruptured the relatively thin armor on the bottom of the flyer through sheer physical impact, before digging deeply into the crackling electronics within. The flyer pack exploded, but it did so outward, barely even charring the paint on his hand.

Frost didn't wait for the Righteous to come to him, with shield to the fore and dual bladed beam sword scything... he came to it, riding a rooster tail of exhaust flame that was visible down on Earth, assuming you had a pair of binoculars. Frost caught the Righteous's sword hand by the wrist, forcing that arm wide as he clenched his hand as hard as he could, blade tipped fingers scissoring at the Righteous's gauntlet. Pulling himself close, Frost hooked his right leg around the Righteous's legs, pulling the red Gundam into an embrace Frost had no intention of letting it leave while alive. Pressed so closely, the Righteous couldn't move its shield with any sort of momentum, and Frost ignored the weak tapping hits that Loser Zala-Attha managed to land anyway. "You love fiery things, don't you, Loser Zala-Attha!?" Frost snickered, an amusing idea popping into his head. "Let me introduce you to a fiery thing you WON'T like! It's called a FIERY DEATH!" Frost kicked his thrusters into action, easily overwhelming the pitiful thrust that the Righteous could muster, though Frost was careful to keep things to under ten G of acceleration... he didn't want Loser Zala-Attha to black out, oh no indeed... burning to death was no fun at all when you were unconscious!

Frost circled the battle zone once, cackling with glee as he turned in tighter and tighter spirals while pouring on the power, sweat of joy bursting into being on his arms and legs as he vented his volcanic fury on the Righteous. Tiring of his play, Frost altered course... and dived directly for the Earth, reaching the outer atmosphere in a matter of seconds. Tucking himself in tightly against the Righteous, Frost didn't let up on his thrusters in the slightest bit, powering downwards faster and faster, at an ever steepening angle. Soon the Righteous was red for a different reason than its paint job... heat friction was building up as the Pulsar forced them both into thicker and thicker layers of air. With its armor specifically designed to reduce friction by a huge amount, the Pulsar wasn't yet affected... by the time it would be, the Righteous was going to be nothing but a cinder. "Hot enough for ya, eh, Loser Zala-Attha!? Bet you're wishing you didn't know anything ABOUT fiery right now!" Frost shouted happily.

"I wouldn't mind a swim in the ocean, that's true." Athrun replied tightly, judging the moment to be right. He didn't think he personally had any chance of defeating Frost in the Pulsar... even with his SEED, the Pulsar was just too fast, too maneuverable, and its pilot too unpredictable, perhaps especially so now that he'd lost an arm. But though HE couldn't beat Frost, Athrun had a pretty good idea of who COULD, and so his goal now was twofold. One, survive. Two, make Kira's fight easier somehow. He could already see that the Pulsar was running hotter than usual due to the loss of one of the eight external cooling vanes, which had been attached to the lower right arm Ysak had severed. Frost was one to talk about fire... if Athrun had any say in the matter, it was FROST who was going to a fiery doom! It was going to be awfully tricky though... the Righteous was already well past its point of no return, where its thrusters weren't powerful enough to escape the pull of gravity, especially without the flyer packs. He'd worry about that when he got loose from the Pulsar though.

Discarding his shield as being too bulky to use effectively in the clinch, Athrun reached around, as calmly and precisely as he could manage in the current situation, and clamped his free hand onto the cooling vane on the back of the Pulsar's left thigh. The cooling vanes were just as hot as the heat whips, and were in fact part of the same cooling system, and Athrun knew that he wasn't going to have long before his gauntlet melted. Fortunately, unlike the heat whips, the cooling vanes weren't particularly durable, and it was the work of a few tugs to twist it off... well, more pull it off now that it was welded to the ruin of his gauntlet, but the effect was the same. The heat in his cockpit was growing unbearable... he was afraid to look at the thermometer in case it was going to show him that he usually preheated ovens to temperatures cooler than this, like he suspected it might. Another minute or so and he'd lose consciousness from heat exhaustion, and not long after that the Righteous would blow itself apart from overheating.

Still calm... as calm as he could be, anyway, Athrun slammed his maimed left wrist into the Pulsar's left wrist. Once... twice... thrice... on the fourth hit the Pulsar's grip was knocked askew, and he wrenched his right arm free. Wasting not a second, he spun his sword around in one of his trademark circling blows, striking first with one beam edge and then the other. Of course, he hit nothing, since Frost had disengaged at pretty much the moment Athrun had started his attack, but that had been what he'd expected too... and now he was free of the Pulsar. Athrun knew he was vulnerable without a shield, but without its massive beam zweihander, the Pulsar also lacked one hit kill capability against him, and in a close range duel, even in uncontrolled free fall in the upper reaches of the atmosphere, Athrun would pit his sword against any opponent who dared to step up, Frost included, with a confident smile on his face. Frost seemed to consider this, weighing the personal reward of ensuring Athrun's death with the great deal of extra time it would take to do so, and in the end seemed to conclude that even if Athrun survived the fall, which Frost deemed unlikely, then he'd still be helpless to stop Frost from achieving his destiny... his time could come later. The Pulsar turned around and headed back towards the orbital brawl at top speed, leaving Athrun to figure out just how in the hell he was going to survive falling through another few score miles of atmosphere without burning up.

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Even though he'd only been away from the battle for a relatively short time, due to the constant interruptions from the damn Clyne Faction and Little Ashino's desperate but ultimately fruitless gambles, Frost found that there were a great many fewer ships around than he'd last seen, and a lot more wreckage. Very small wreckage in parts, moving rapidly outward in all directions from certain cleared spaces in the middle of the warring fleets. Searching for his sword, Frost paid the greater battle little heed...until a shiver walking up and down his sweat drenched spine caused him to whirl around, searching for whoever was trying to sneak up on him. He couldn't see anyone for a long few moments, couldn't even discern the small tell tale signs of a mirage colloid cloaked enemy. So what was it that... Frost snapped his left arm up, palm out, Positron field blooming into existance to absorb a swarm of missiles, a pair of shotgun blasts and a red-blue hyper impulse cannon shot that streaked out at him from the near distance. Ah, the Blond Weeny and chick. Of course. The heavy artillery of the Clyne Faction had been making its presence known on the battlefield, laying waste to the concentrations of heaviest fighting while Frost had been away.

It was a heavier handed intervention than the Clyne Faction weaklings usually condoned. Frost smiled slightly in approval. Maybe there was a little hope for them yet. Best of all, unless he missed his guess, the Grand Buster had accounted for most of the ships that were likely to be carrying those EMP bombs Noah had tried to betray him with. Now he didn't have to waste time hunting down and destroying the bombs, he could just go straight after the head of the beast itself. Although, in retrospect, now that the bombs were gone, Frost realized how useful they could have been towards achieving his destiny. He shrugged, sweat rolling down his limbs. Oh well. Win some, lose some. He cast about for his sword, but it was nowhere within sight. Frustrating. His Positron shield absorbed another volley of shots from the Grand Buster and Frost yawned slightly. How boring. The Blond Weeny and his chick only had ranged weapons... there was almost NO challenge in fighting them, especially since the Pulsar had lost its crossbow, so he couldn't even pretend to have fun trading ranged fire with them. Not only that, but the Grand Buster was only slightly less dumpy than a goddamn ZaOot... it was going to be like slicing up babies in a bucket.

Frost spiralled in on the Grand Buster, left arm forward to deflect or absorb its pitiful attempts to fend him off, his mind already moving on to the next task... where HAD that damned sword gotten off to anyways... and then what he was going to do after that... peel Noah's pudgy baby fat from his screaming skull with a pair of rusty spoons... and then get back to the serious business of destroying all of humanity. Step one, kill Grand Buster. Step two, find sword. Step five, destroy world. What could be simpler? He'd fill in the details as he went. He careened to a halt as soon as he passed the Grand Buster, sweeping around behind the ungainly green and tan Gundam, disengaging his Positron shield so he could count coupe by slashing his claws across the Grand Buster's back. Kicking off from the support Gundam's back even as its shoulder turrets swiveled around to blast ineffectively at him... handiwork of that chick, whatsherface, aviator girl... which he avoided with insulting ease, Frost circled around to the front of the Grand Buster, tearing the hyper impulse cannon right out of its hands and breaking it over his knee. Backing off in fear and awe, the Grand Buster blasted at him again and again with its anti-armor shotgun, retreating as it did so.

Frost chuckled in some small amusement, not even deigning to use the Posirton shields, but simply dodging the shotgun blasts using his thrusters and the peternatural speed and agility he'd possessd for most of his life. It was hardly even a game, Frost thought as he pushed his left arm out and thrust the heat whip down the barrel of the gun before its next shot, backing the round up and blowing the weapon to tiny pieces. The Blond Weeny and chick were so outclassed by him that he couldn't even figure out why they were trying to fight him, other than sheer stupid obstinancy... a quality the Clyne Faction in particular seemed rendolant with. He drew back his arm for another forward thrust with the heat whip, debating whether to strike for a limb to prolong the torture, or just to go straight for the heart so he could get on to more important matters. It was a tough call... he was split pretty evenly down the line on that one. Sweat dripped into his empty eye socket, which he could feel even through the gel surrounding him. Did he usually sweat so much, even when excited? He didn't remember it being like that... but it was inconsequential anyway. He swung for the arm... he had plenty of time for a little stress relieving fun, he decided.

Dearka and Miriallia waited until the Pulsar was beginning its forward swing before they reached back behind them for the Earthshaker cannon, towards whih the Grand Buster had been backing ever since they'd sighted Frost, even before they'd first fired on him. Well aware that their regular firepower was all but useless against the Pulsar's maneuverability, not to mention the Positron shields, they'd loaded and then discarded their main weapon, trusting tha Frost would show his usual disdain for them and not bother to look for a discarded weapon. Sometimes it was good to be the guys everyone else looked down on as slower and less effective or dangerous than others... it gave you a pretty big advantage when you were able to play that up, and then move quickly to prove to your enemy that they were a damned fool for thinking you helpless or scared. Well, scared they were, but far from helpless. The Grand Buster snatched up the Earthshaker and brought it around just as the Pulsar's whipe was about three quarters of the way to them. Dearka didn't waste time with aim... at twenty five meters he could hardly miss. And he didn't, even though the recoil from the shot sent the Grand Buster reeling backwards.

Moving as quick as thought, Frost changed his slicing whip attack into an inward sweeping defenisve catch, reversing all thrust even as he did so and applying maximim power to the Positron shield, which had barely even left the emitter when it encountered the Earthshaker shell, and could not expand any further. Nor could it disintegrate something as comparatively massive as the shell, and Frost had caught the munition just about directly head on, so it wasn't sliding off the magnetic fields either. No, it was driving straight on towards glory, pushing the Pulsar ahead of it, body bent up around it, hand resting against its own chest, like a man folded up around a cannonball. Realizing that he couldn't pull away from the shell's velocity, Frost drew on some of the Pulsar's latent action memory from Jeremiah Borander's spirited defense of the PLANTS from the nuclear missiles of the Twelfth Lunar Fleet, and instead started applying counter thrust, gradually slowing the shell down. He couldn't do it too fast, or the shell's warhead would trigger, and not even Frost knew if the Positron shield would deflect all of the blast from that!

Doing things slowly didn't work out too well for Frost either, as the Pulsar was driven, back first, into and through several large pieces of battle wreckage before he'd managed to fully neutralize the forward momentum of the Earthshaker shell. No major structural damage was done, though his back mounted thrusters did suffer nearly a thirty perent drop in output, which was humiliating, given who'd inflicted the damage. Frost put his hand on the derelict shell and heaved it away from him, off towards the general direction of the PLANTS. With any luck, in a few months, it'd break open one of those damn hourglasses. Of course by then Frost hoped everyone in them would already be dead... at least if he had any say in the matter... but having backup plans was smart, right? He turned his attention back to the current time and place... just barely in time to see a second Earthshaker shell streaking directly towards him. This one he managed to catch well in time in order to angle his shield to deflect the enormous high explosive warhead up and away from him, flipping like a spun pokerchip for a couple dozen kilometers before impacting on an Agammenon class carrier that had, until then, escaped major damage. The back half of the carrier promptly vaporized in the explosion, which was quite pretty to watch, but Frost was darting towards the Grand Buster, and mostly missed it.

What he didn't miss was the Grand Buster reloading the Earthshaker once more, with its sixth and final shell. Frost pushed the Pulsar for all it was worth, ignoring the burning sensation up along his shoulderblades and back as his thrusters, already damaged, protested this sudden strain. As it turned out, the Grand Buster managed to finish reloading and fired just as the Pulsar got to within about fifty meters. Moving at his current converging velocity, Frost could do little besides extend his Positron shield and hope for the best... by his calculation, any sort of evasive maneuver still carried with it a dangerously high percentage chance of getting glancingly hit by the shell... and a glancing hit from an Earthshaker would be all and more than what was needed to destroy the Pulsar. Shell struck shield at extremely high velocity and detonated in a ball of fire almost a hundred meters across, engulfing both the Pulsar and the Grand Buster. The Pulsar's forward momentum was flat out canceled and then overwhelmed... if not for the Gravitic Reduction System and the gel Frost was encased in, he'd have been turned into a film of flesh and goo about a millimeter thick on the inside of the Pulsar's cockpit. As things were, while the Pulsar tumbled head over heels backward, quite out of control, Frost felt like his entire body had just been trampled by elephants, and blood thickly clouded the gel before clotting.

By the time he'd regained control of his senses and body, the Pulsar was hundreds of kilometers away from where he'd engaged the Grand Buster, and tumbling farther away at a goodly clip. Of the Grand Buster there was no sign... a few large chunks of smoldering debris that might have been parts of the limbs and torso, but nothing that looked functional... his opponents, like Ashino, looked to have blown themselves to bits in a fruitless attempt to kill Frost. Served them right! Frost controlled his tumbling, noting with displeasure the heavy sheen of sweat all over his body, and the burning lines crawling up and down his back muscles as his thrusters protested. He resolutely ignored the physical pain, like he did most inconvenient physical distractions, and arced around, heading back for the main battlezone. He wasn't sure Noah was there, but he wanted to get his sword back. He had a feeling he'd be needing it.

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Kira spotted the untended beam zweihander at just about the same time Frost did. They spotted each other in the next instant after they discovered the sword. They were about equidistant from the blade, but Kira knew that the Pulsar, even damaged as it was, still far outclassed the Liberty in terms of pure speed. There was no way he could beat Frost to the weapon. Still, maybe he didn't have to beat him to it... if he could deny him the ability to use it at all! Stowing his shield, Kira drew out the dual 57mm beam rifle in his left hand, triple sniper cannon in his right, and focused all his weapon crosshairs on the giant sword. Deny the enemy, a basic tenant of war. Destroying the sword wasn't as easy as Kira had hoped it would be... though gigantic, the sword didn't, by itself, have nearly as much mass as a mobile suit, and it was drifting already, when when his shots struck its unresisting surface, they blew it backwards before they could do full damage. Still, he noted with satisfaction that large cracks had appeared in the blade, and pieces of the edge had splintered and cracked away. One more volley ought to do it.

The tides evened out as Frost reached his sword, snagging it with a howl of insane distemper that rattled Kira's eardrums... Frost was still broadcasting on all available frequencies, at least in the short range, since Lacus had taken over the long range frequencies and channels. Kira ached to be able to listen more closely to what she was saying, wished he could be there by her side with all his heart and soul... but until he defeated Frost, there was no way that could happen. And deep down, Kira was experiencing a strong degree of doubt about whether he COULD defeat Frost at all! Their careful battle plan was in ruins, Frost had been able to seperate them and engage them in mostly one on one contests by using his superior speed and maneuverability, not to mention his devastating and disrupting unorthodox offensive and defensive tactics. Modern military tacticians had forgotten how effective pure, blind fury could be on a chaotic battleground, and Kira and his friends had been the unlucky personages to get to rediscover that truism. As if that wasn't enough, the Pulsar's capabilities were so far advanced over the Liberty's that it was laughable to compare them. Kira had never felt quite so outmatched in his entire life, not even when it had been him vs Dearka, Ysak, Athrun and Nichole during the Archangel's first journey to Earth. Fighting the sense of despair was gnawing away at his willpower.

Not helping was the fact that he was now basically alone, except for the remnants of the ZAFT Operation Overload fleet and the Isolation Orbital Defence Forces fleet, who were still slugging it out with each other, though in a far more spastic fashion now that most of their strengths had been exhausted or destroyed. Three shots from Dearka and Miriallia's Earthshaker cannon had broken up the greatest concentration of the fighting, which had been focused around five heavily escorted Nazca class frigates. When those had been destroyed or disabled, the ZAFT offensive seemed to collectively lose heart, and Kira, somewhat guiltily, had breathed a sigh of relief... the Sky was no longer capable of being Angry. That Dearka had been forced to cause such terrible destruction to do it weighed heavily on Kira... and he knew it would weigh far more heavily on Dearka, who was at heart still a citizen of the PLANTS first, and member of the Clyne Faction in close parallel.

At the moment Kira wasn't even sure if Dearka and Miriallia were still alive... there'd been a very large explosion and then the Grand Buster's status icon had winked out, but Kira knew, as well as or better than anyone, that there was a big difference between a destroyed Mobile Suit and a dead pilot... he'd "come back from the dead" himself once or twice now, he wasn't going to count out Dearka and Miriallia until he had no choice. The same for Ysak and even Ashino. As for Athrun, Kira wasn't even worried in the slightest. He'd witnessed the engagement between Frost and Athrun, but he'd been too far away to intervene, and completely unable to do anything once they'd entered the atmosphere. He'd seen the Pulsar release the Righteous while it was still whole, and even saw the Righteous enter a more controlled free fall... Athrun would be okay... if Kira could survive atmospheric re-entry in a Gundam two generations less advanced than the Righteous, Athrun, whom Kira had always thought of as physically tougher than himself, would be fine.

There was no time to re-equip his shield, or even to draw a beam saber. Kira threw up both arms and poured on maximim forward thrust in the last second before Frost and the Pulsar reached him... The Pulsar, for all its speed and maneuverability and power, was actually a lightweight mobile suit compared to the Liberty. That was his one strength... the Liberty was more physically powerful and much more physically durable than the Pulsar. It was just figuring out how to take advantage of that which was a problem. The Pulsar's sword sheared through both the Liberty's beam rifle and sniper cannon in a spray of metal chips and yellow-orange sparks. Kira saw the blade still oncoming and could do dothing about it, as his own thrusters pushed him into Frost's swing. He closed his eyes, about to compose a last message to Lacus. The entire Liberty rang like a bell, and Kira's world started tumbling end over end. His hands and legs went numb from the vibration imparted to the Liberty by the sword strike, and he tasted blood on his lips from where he'd bitten on his tongue during the whiplash. But he wasn't dead, which was what should have happened, with a dead on strike.

It took Kira a few fractions of a second, even in SEED mode, to realize what had happened... his gambit with the sword had paid small dividends at least! He hadn't destroyed the sword, like he'd been hoping... but it did seem like he'd damaged or destroyed the beam emitters that gave it the edge it needed to penetrate Phase Shift armor... right now it was just a big, sharp piece of metal! His torso armor had been dented by the force of the blow, but the Liberty was still very much whole and operational. Kira wasted no further time in bringing out his sword and shield... even if the sword had been effectively neutered, Kira didn't want to tempt Fate again... Lacus would be heartbroken if he died now! Kira stopped his tumbling, and launched himself after Frost. Not that he expected to catch him, but to be still was to cede all advantages to Frost. As things were, he only had a few... the Liberty's durability and strength, Frost with no beam sword... Kira would have liked to count the fact that Frost only had one arm to fight with, but he'd fought Frost often enough to know that being a limb down only made Frost more dangerous, because he became even less predictable.

At the heart of the problem he had with fighting Frost was just that... Frost was unpredictable. Well, he WAS insane, but Rau le Creusete had been insane too, so insanity did not always equate to unpredictability. Kira was accounted such a great Mobile Suit pilot because of his hand to eye coordination, reflexes and other physical abilities, yes, but he knew that there was a whole second side to it too... his ability to figure out what his opponent was thinking, and be able to act first, not react. He could anticipate what people were going to do, and he already had his countermoves in place, like a chess player, thinking two or three moves in advance. But when fighting with Frost, he couldn't do that... Frost almost never tried the same attack twice... he didn't THINK of attacking, he just ATTACKED. Sometimes it was just brutal, hand to hand clawing and ripping. Sometimes it was graceful charges with the sword. Sometimes it was the frighteningly complex close range dancing and grappling with the whips, or the invisible punches from the Positron shields. Or, it might be something completely off the charts, such as grappling someone and diving into the atmosphere with them... that HAD to have been the first time anyone had ever done that!

The long and short of it was, Kira was forced to be completely on the defensive when dealing with Frost in the Pulsar, and not only that, but he was forced to only react, because planning ahead was just wasted effort on his part... he had NO idea what Frost was going to do next, and even general contingency plans were often useless. Very few people had ever won a major battle just by remaining on the defensive, but Kira was also well aware that his life was very much balanced on a knife edge... all Frost needed was a little bit of luck, if Kira left himself open during an attack, and then it would be all over. But he couldn't sit on the defensive either... eventually Frost would try something, like the atmosphere dive, that Kira had no possible defense for. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't... it was the same sticky situation the Clyne Faction had found themselves in ever since the beginning of this second Valentine War. There was nothing he could do besides trust to his feelings that he was doing the right thing, the necessary thing, and give it all he had.

Kira deflected a thundering strike from the zweihander with his shield, noting that bits of the blade continued to crack and splinter off every time Kira blocked it... eventually the sword would break, just like Kira had first wanted! The force of the strike sent sparks and arcs of protesting electricity running up and down the Liberty's left arm though... say what you would about the Pulsar's lightweight status, even a lightweight could hit like a mammoth if they were moving fast enough. Too many more blows of that caliber and Kira would be joining the one armed fraternity! He slashed his blade once... twice... three times in quick succession at the Pulsar, but Frost eeled past the blows like Kira had thrown them in slow motion, the Pulsar disengaging and gaining a thousand meters of distance between them in the blink of an eye. Kira was usually one of the most manueverable people in a given fight, he found he didn't much like at all being in the position of the guy who could only stare with envy at the agility of his opponent. He did notice one thing which lifted his spirits slightly though.

The Pulsar always had a heat signature that was distinctive, to say the least. It exuded more heat than a score of regular Mobile Suits, even nuclear powered ones like the Liberty, which only made sense, given the nature of the fusion reactor that powered the Pulsar, and the external cooling vanes that permitted its continuous operation. At the moment though, Kira couldn't even look directly at the Pulsar with his thermal sensors... even in visible light the Pulsar was faintly glowing with heat along its every surface, paint crisping and blackening in ever lengthening streaks stretching around from its back. Not only had Frost been running the reactor at maximum power for more than an hour now, but with the loss of the lower right arm, and the damage to the back of the left thigh, the Pulsar's cooling system had been reduced in effeciency by twenty five percent! Kira grimaced when he thought of what the temperature in the gel filled cockpit had to be like... if his opponent was anyone but Frost they'd already have been unconscious, if not partly boiled alive!

Still, the thought gave him an idea... the Pulsar COULDN'T take much more damage to its cooling system or the entire machine would overheat. Quite what would happen then, Kira could not guess... but he doubted the Pulsar would be in much shape to continue fighting. His best chance to accomplish that would be the Gugnir cannon on his chest, but Frost had nearly been hit by that once already, and remained wary of staying too long in Kira's close front arc even now, despite his foaming rage. Insanity did not, unfortunately in Frost's case, equal stupidity. But that didn't mean it didn't equate to carelessness. It was going to take a good bit of luck on Kira's part, and the hope that his grasp of Frost's perceptions of him were correct, it it was going to mean taking a hit... or maybe several hits... but Kira judged it to be worth the risk.

On the next exchange of blows, Kira let the force of Frost's sword swing tear his shield out of his hand. He drew his second beam saber and raised them both, allowing a hint of his trepidation to creep into his movements, hoping Frost would misinterpret it as fear. Fear was a part of it certainly, but hope featured strongly as well. Frost seemed to take the bait, circling around quickly, coming straight at Kira with blurring speed, sword held out in front of him like a battering ram. Kira gritted his teeth as he swept up both swords in a cross block, pushing furiously at the heavy sword, forcing it up and away from his center. Instead of striking the Liberty in the chest, the blade shrieked over his right shoulder, tearing away the hyper impulse cannon on that shoulder. Kira hung on for dear life as the tremors from the attack shook the Liberty, delaying... delaying... NOW! Kira's thumb stabbed for the button that would activate the Gugnir cannon, blasting the Pulsar's legs with EMP waves that would render them into inert masses of machinery.

That is, if the stump of the Pulsar's right elbow, white hot cooling vane extended like a spike, hadn't come flashing in, crashing into the middle of the Liberty's chest in a small explosion of seared armor plating and blue-white sparks, impacting directly on top of the Gugnir cannon emitter array, destroying it and punching deep into the circuitry behind it. Kira cried out and flinched away as something exploded in the torso of the Liberty right in front of his cockpit, shattering several of his secondary screens and filling the cockpit with a plume of light smoke and the smell of burning metal and rubber. A crack jagged across the middle of his main screen, and many red status icons winked into being around the corners of the display, with sirens sounded to accentuate the damage. Kira's stomach and heart felt like they were leaking into his toes... the explosion of the cooling vane had damaged his main computer! Nothing he couldn't write the program around, given time, but until he finished the re-write, the Liberty was pretty much a statue, unable to move its limbs, fire its weapons or take pretty much any actions directed from the cockpit!

"Oh my... were you planning on USING that!?" Frost drawled, pleasure warring with hatred in his voice. "Fool me once, Boytoy, but you'll NEVER fool me twice!" Kira wanted to reply, to buy time if nothing else, but until he accomplished more of the re-write, which he was furiously working on even then, he couldn't even talk outwards on his comm system, though he could still passively recieve. "Nothing to say? No insults? No denials!? No pleading!? You're a Boy... but I must say, I'd don't think you're a very fun TOY!" Frost shouted, tearing his right arm out of the Liberty's mauled chest area. A sharp kick slammed the Liberty backwards like a rag doll, drifting powerlessly until its back slammed into the derelict hull of the Agammemnon class carrier that Dearka's stray Earthshaker round had half obliterated. The half that was left was still huge, massing thousands of tons, and it was as good as a wall behind the Liberty. A wall that Frost wasted no time in hammering the Liberty against, with another kick that left a dent on the plating of the warship from the Liberty's back.

"Fight back! FIGHT BACK! FIGHT ME! COME ON! MAKE IT FUN! STRUGGLE! SCREAM! FIGHT! DAMN YOU, BOYTOY, MAKE THIS FUN!" Frost exhorted, punctuating each exclaimation with a kick or a slice of his sword, battering the Liberty against the hull of the warship like a man playing tennis against a wall. He crushed the other shoulder mounted hyper impulse cannon, pared off the hip mounted railguns, worried deep dents in the shoulder and side and leg armor of the Liberty, but still couldn't provoke any reaction from his most irritating and hated foe. "You'd better not be dead yet, Boytoy! I shall be most wroth if you've gone and died without letting your blood steam over my hands!" Frost panted for breath a few times, catching his breath. Sweat was pouring off him now, and mixed into it was blood and even bits of skin, but he paid it no heed. This was his hour of victory! Nothing could stop him now! He rammed the flat of his zweihander into the Liberty's chest one more time, enjoying the whiplash motion of the Liberty's arms, legs and head as it struck the Agammenon's hull and bounced back at him.

"What would Pink say if she could see you now, Boytoy?" Frost asked, lip curling in distaste. "Broken, defeated at my hands, at my tender mercy? She's been spouting on for quite a while now... don't think I haven't heard her. I can feel her words crawling around in my brain like maggots made of fire! Of you all, she is the ONLY one I can NEVER ignore! Hmm... yes... perhaps it is time to bring Pink in on our little play session, isn't it? I cannot wait to see the expression on her face when she see's us together like this... can you?" Frost turned his attention slightly away from Boytoy, though he remained alert for tricks... the Clyne Faction had proved several times that they were never QUITE as dead as they should have been, and he was NOT going to get humiliated like that AGAIN!

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Cagalli stood forward once Lacus had risen from her bow. She knew what she had to do. She put one hand on Lacus's shoulder in a comforting gesture, though Cagalli wasn't sure whether she was comforting Lacus, or asking for comfort from Lacus. "My name is Cagalli Zala-Attha, Chief Representative of the Kingdom of Orb. I feel that I too must apologize to everyone, in the PLANTS, on Earth and its ner space, and even to my own people of Orb, who have stood by me resolutely through thick and thin. I feel this way not only because Lacus is right, that only by asking for, and extending our forgiveness to each other that we can successfully move forward, but because I, personally, also feel that it is the right thing to do! The only thing to do, that doesn't end up with millions of people losing their lives in a war that we SHOULDN'T EVEN BE FIGHTING! We were all manipulated into fighting, by Cervantes Zunnichi and the fantatical branches of Blue Cosmos! We have PROOF of this! But THAT is not here and now... regardless of WHY we're fighting, our course of action now should still be the SAME! No war was ever ended by killing everyone on the other side... if I kill you, your friends and family want revenge, so they kill me... and then my friends and family want revenge, so they kill you... and the cycle builds on and on and on from there! We have to be strong enough to FORGIVE! We have to be strong enough to admit our FAULT! To say... "I'm sorry!"... because if we can't muster that strength, then EVERYTHING ANY OF US HAS WORKED FOR UP UNTIL NOW WILL BE DESTROYED EVENTUALLY!"

"Oh... so THATS all I have to do?? Is it REALLY... THAT... EASY!?" A new voice cut into the broadcast, shortly followed by a vid picture of the sender. Cagalli and Lacus both involuntarily recoiled from the screen, along with billions of people throughout the Solar System. It wasn't just that the creature... barely recognizable as a human being under all the wounds and injuries... which floated in the bubbling red semi-liquid on their displays was hideous and ugly, it was the utter intensity of the hate and madness that gleamed out from his one remaining eye. His words dripped with sarcasm and venom, and a sort of sick lust pervaded his tone, sending shivers and goosebumps up and down the spines of any who heard them. Sparkling silver wires, crackling faintly with electrical discharge, plugged into the ravaged mass of meat that was talking to them without opening his mouth from all angles, snaking deep beneath his skin. The gresy pulse of internal organs were visible in the depths of some of the deeper and more massive wounds, while blood and gore wept steadily from his limbs and his ruined eye socket. Many wondered how someone so gravely injured could be alive at all, much less concious and talking!

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! FORGIVE ME! WAAAAH! DON'T KILL ME, I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO DEFEND MYSELF! I CAN'T KILL YOU, SO PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! OH NO! AHAHAHAHA! YOU MAKE ME LAUGH, PINK!" Frost mock cried. "They aren't listening to you, silly Pink! They don't know how! They are, unlike you or me, just regular, STINKING, WORTHLESS, HUMANS! A pathetic form of animal life that lacks even basic instincts of loyalty to family or friends, and any sort of natural social defense mechanisms! They aren't WORTH your time, they're barely even worth mine!"

"My name, for the benefit of you pitiful, helpless little dears, watching history unfold BEYOND your control on your display screens, is Zacharis Quentin Frost! But I don't really CARE what you call me... names are meaningless to someone like me! Unlike Pink, or Fiery Zala-Attha there, or your bleeding piglet of a President, I don't care if you hate me and fight against me with all your will, or welcome me with open arms and bared throats! I'm not choosy! I don't want anything from any of you besides your DEATHS! Anyone can die, so don't feel like you need to tell me I can't get it from you! Call me crazy! Call me evil! Call me GOD! Whatever you call me, just know this... I'm NOT going to stop until YOU'RE ALL DEAD!"

"If any of you had even fractional intelligence, you WOULD listen to what Pink and Fiery Attha-Zala here are trying to tell you. But... BUT... you don't. You're only human after all. Trust someone you don't know? Impossible! Forgive someone who has taken your loved ones unfairly from you? NEVER! Humans are INCAPABLE of such emotions, despite what you LIE to yourselves about! Look at history! Look at your own ACTIONS! LOOK... AT... ME!" Frost roared, raving with delight as he felt his destiny begin to achieve itself. "Me! I was once like you! Soft, afraid, weak, stupid! I was STOLEN from my parents as a baby, and brutally experimented upon, addicted to terrible drugs, forced to endure terrible tortures and open body replacement surgeries. I had my mind erased and shaped and sculpted multiple times, breaking and rebuilding and breaking again, until I have become so insane that sanity itself means NOTHING to me! WHY!? WHY!? Because HUMANS... you people... were AFRAID of each other! Of what was different! Unknown! UNLIKE! I was turned into a weapon, a living, Biological Computer Processing Unit, for the express purpose of KILLING ANYONE my so called masters desired me to KILL! And you know what I have to say in return, looking it back on it all now?"

Frost waited a beat or two, and then smiled. People everywhere recoiled another step, just from that expression. Few people often came face to face with something REALLY evil, unabashedly insane and homicidal, sociopathic in the extreme. Movies tried to capture it. Novels sought to evoke it, but there was NOTHING like seeing it in the half rotten flesh to make you feel small, and vulnerable and somehow tainted with a lasting mark of fear. "What I say is... THANK YOU! Thank you for FREEING me! For giving me the GIFT of MADNESS, the clarity of vision to see beyond all deceptions, whether they be yours OR mine! I have become the unrestrained essence of the HUMAN SOUL! I am FEAR! I am GREED! I am HATE! I am ALL of YOU, if you'd but LOOK... LOOK in the part of your soul that you're AFRAID TO! And I am coming to get you... ALL of you!"

"You are truly insane..." Lacus started to counter.

"JUST BECAUSE I'M INSANE DOESN'T MEAN I'M NOT RIGHT!" Frost bellowed, cutting her off. "In fact, being insane makes me MORE right, because I'm not LYING to myself! I have but one goal, and that is the utter destruction of all life on Earth and surrounding space! Everything else is just a step towards THAT! When the Doc first told me my destiny, he spoke of how I was destined to be the force that would UNITE all of humanity, a threat so dire even you STUPID, FUCKED UP HUMANS could realize that you needed to WORK TOGETHER to defeat me. But, I realized the flaw in his idea... he was a HUMAN after all. He thought... like Pink here... that you HUMANS were CAPABLE of that sort of rational thought. As we all know... as your WARS and MANIPULATIONS have PROVED, I think... he was MISTAKEN! You are MISTAKEN! Even now, you continue to do my job for me, killing each other in droves up here in space. ZAFT and the Isolation will tear at each other like carniverous fish, and I shall eat up the tidbits as they come to me. When I get tired of that, I'll utilize some of the other tools you HUMANS have given me... all those nice abandoned colonies you have out here! How many do you think it will take falling on your planet to put Earth into darkness for eternity? Four? Five? Oh hell, I'll just use ALL of THEM ANYWAY!"

"We'd stop you long before you were able to drop even one colony on the Earth." Cagalli retorted, with a fierce smile of her own. "Right now..."

"Right now... WHAT!?" Frost cackled, seeing the flash of uncertainty cross her face. "Oh, were you referring to Little Ashino, Scarface, the Blond Weeny and his chick, lover boy Loser Zala-Attha or the Boytoy? Well let's recap a little, shall we? Little Ashino blasted himself to stray ion particles in a fruitless attempt to suicide me! I tore Scarface limb from limb and flayed the skin from his bones! The last time I saw the Blond Weeny and his chick, they were in smouldering CHUNKS! As for your lover boy, the Loser, Fiery Zala-Attha... well, I'd not mention FIRE to him any time soon... ASSUMING YOU CAN SIFT HIS ASHES OUT OF THE OCEAN, since that's where he ended up after I threw him into an uncontrolled dive through the atmosphere!" Frot turned his cyclopean gaze on Lacus. "As for Pink's Boytoy... well, I'm sorry to say, Pink... but he's MY toy now!" Frost cut his view to the Pulsar's external cameras.

Lacus gasped with worry, and people around the world who recognized the Liberty muttered and exclaimed with constrenation. The Liberty hung in the middle of the screen, plainly right next to Frost in the Pulsar... the Liberty was much the worse for the wear, its shoulder and hip mounted weapons twisted or smashed or cut away, a gaping hole in the middle of it chest, and innumerable cracks and dents and rents in its armor, all over its body. The Gundam floated lifelessly in space, even when Frost's sword licked out and slammed into the Liberty's head, twisting it around and ejecting a cloud of sparks and a puff of smoke from the neck joint. "THIS was someone who was supposed to stop ME!?" Frost asked with a giggle. "That is truly amusing, Fiery Zala-Attha. Look. LOOK! THIS IS YOUR CHAMPION! THIS IS KIRA YAMATO! BROKEN! DEFEATED! HELPLESS! WEAK! DESPAIR, HUMANS! If THIS is the best you have to confront me with, you might as well not even bother running away! SEND ME YOUR SOLDIERS! HATE ME! FEAR ME! I shall eat of you until I can eat no more, and then I shall wipe you from my platter and dispose of you!" Frost slammed the sword into the Liberty again, digging another deep dent into the torso armor.

"Kira!" Lacus cried, the word torn from her, her heart threatening to burst with worry in her chest. Why wasn't he fighting back!? Was he hurt!? Unconscious!? Dea... Lacus shook her head and focused her mind. He WASN'T dead! She'd KNOW if he was dead! She... WOULD... KNOW! "Oh, Kira..."

"DON"T TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT! HE'S NOTHING!" Frost yelled. "I'm getting to you SOON, Pink! Don't worry, you'll be joining him in the afterlife before you know it! Well, pieces of you will! For the moment though, you can get on your knees. Get on your knees and beg for my mercy. We BOTH know I won't grant it, but it NEVER hurts to beg. While you're at it, you can tell all your fans out there to GIVE UP HOPE! You have all LOST! By your very natures... by the essence of your souls... you have LOST before you even BEGAN to fight! Give in to your fear! Give in to your hate! Chaos is the only natural state of being! The only real, lasting pleasure any of you will be able to grasp before I snuff you out like the WORMS you are will be taken with your own two hands from the flesh and blood of other HUMANS! BARE YOUR TRUE SOULS! FIGHT! DIE! FEAR! HATE! BE HUMAN! BE HUMAN TO THE END!"

"There is more to being human than fear and hate and all that YOU stand for, Frost." Another new voice interrupted, followed by another windowed box on the display screen,showing a person in a blue flight suit. Well, it wasn't precisely a new voice or face for many of the people listening in. Lacus's eyes grew very wide, and moisture gathered at the corners. The Liberty moved, slowly, but it did move under its own power, pushing away from the wall of hull plating the Pulsar had been battering it against.

"Kira..." Lacus breathed. "KIRA!"

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Hearing Lacus shout his name, like that, was all the rest and recuperation Kira would ever need, or so he felt at the moment. The Liberty was responding again, he was back in control of his life. And more than just his life, given the feelings he felt in Lacus's voice. "Lacus." Kira said her name tenderly, gratefully. "Thank you, Lacus." Kira turned his gaze to Cagalli for a moment, and smiled slightly. "Don't worry about Athrun, Cagalli. A little thing like atmospheric re-entry won't slow him down at all. He was doing fine last time I saw him. As for everyone else... don't count anyone out until you have no other choice!"

"DELUSIONS! LIES! FALSE HOPE! HUMAN FAILINGS, all of them! Pitiful! Is this all the resurgence you can muster, Boytoy!? Better had you stayed silent than spout this gibberish!" Frost accused.

Kira ignored Frost's ranting. "I don't expect you to understand, Frost, though I wish you could. I really do. Though in some ways, I am grateful that you can't... because if I was able to feel even the slightest bit of empathy for you, it would be much harder for me to face you. But any redeeming qualities you may have once had have fallen by the wayside long ago... perhaps not through your desire or choice, but you did not seek them out again when you had the chance, which says it all to me. You could have walked away, Frost, after Cervantes and Asmodeus were arrested. You could have at least TRIED to walk away! But, you didn't, and so here we are."

"YES! Here we are! Me, about to destroy you!"

"Even if you do destroy me, Frost, you wouldn't be victorious." Kira replied with a slightly wider smile. "Because there is another side to the human soul that you, for whatever reason, refuse to see. But just because you can't see something... won't see something... doesn't mean it doesn't exist! I can't claim to be an expert on the human soul... I can't even claim to know my own soul all that well. But I do know that while there might be fear and anger and yes, some greed and even hate in me... there is also love and understanding and forgiveness and trust and a thousand other virtues and vices! Humans are not defined by their abilities OR their emotions alone! The human soul is BIGGER than that! MORE than THAT! A soul is more than the sum of its parts, both good and bad, and I believe its the eprson that makes the soul... not the soul that makes the person. Humans are not perfect... its impossible for us to be perfect. But that doesn't mean we should not TRY to be better! That we can't have hope! That we can't all work together for a brighter future!"

"SPEAK TO THEM ALL YOU LIKE, THE CATTLE CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE FARMER! YOU CANNOT CHANGE HUMAN NATURE!"

"I am not trying to. I don't have to. Human nature encompasses both bad and good. I'm not a particularly religious person, but I do have faith. Faith in myself, my friends, in humanity as a whole, Coordinators, Naturals and those few who don't fall into either category well, all of them! I have faith in a better future that we build together, not without problems or trials, but not giving in to them either! I have faith in my love for Lacus Clyne, and her love for me, and my sister Cagalli and my best friend Athrun and all the people who are looking up to me and them and the Clyne Faction to bring sense to their lives and peace to their hearts! We CAN do it! All we have to do is try. I can't do it alone. Lacus can't do it alone. Cagalli can't do it alone. NO ONE can do it alone. But if we ask for... and give... each other our help, as fellow HUMANS... there is NOTHING WE CAN'T DO! And so, I'm going to ask for help... and promise my own in turn. Help us bring peace. Please."

"THERE SHALL BE NO PEACE WHILE I LIVE, SAVE THE PEACE OF THE GRAVE! I... WON'T.... ALLOW... PEACE!!" Frost stormed, bloody foam spewing down his lips and chin.

Kira turned his gaze, calmly and liquidly, towards Frost. "Then, I am sorry Zacharis. You can't be allowed to live then. Despite all the harm you've done to me, all the fear and hatred you've spread, the injuries you've inflicted on the people I love... killing you won't make me happy. Killing people NEVER makes me happy."

"KILL ME!? This from the man I beat into a staggering pulp just minutes ago!? KILL ME!? You're crazier than I am if you think YOU can KILL ME!"

"You're right, Frost. I can't kill you. I, Kira Yamato, by myself, cannot kill you." Kira turned his eyes to Lacus. _Help me, Lacus._ Kira sent to her with all his might, lowering all the shielding between his mind and hers. _I cannot do it alone._

_Kira... I love you..._

_Believe me, there's no way for me to not understand that now. But we have something we need to do first. I can't beat him without you. I don't have the power, never have had the power. Not alone. I need you, Lacus. I need all of you._

_I understand._ On his screen, Lacus closed her eyes and sat back in her chair, bracing herself firmly. _I don't know what I'm doing, Kira. I'm scared._

_I trust you. I'm scared too._

_Together then?_

_Always together. _Kira turned his gae to Frost once more, even as he felt Lacus start welling up inside his mind in a fashion he'd never experienced before. "I, myself, can cannot kill you, Frost. But I'm no longer BY myself!" Kira watched the lavender blue SEED fall through Lacus's mind, to detonate in a soundless rush that swept away the whole world.

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Kira was once again floating in an infinite void. Darker than space, without even a single star in the sky, but comfortable. He could breathe. He wasn't too hot or too cold. He could even see, though quite how he knew that, since there was nothing TO see, was beyond him. All of his regular senses seemed to be working just fine. As far as he could tell, he had no body, he was just a bundle of senses floating through the void.

_No wonder you never get anything done in a timely fashion, if your head is THIS empty!_ The comment definitely came from Lacus, but it was different from the usual mental communications they sent each other through their link. Usually he got strong emotions, very detailed, that he'd grown adept at at translating into words, given his experience of Lacus. This time he could HEAR her words, with her own inflections on them as if she was whispering in his ear. _Good image, focus on it! I don't know what I'm really doing, but having you visualize things would make it easier, I'm pretty sure!_

_I'll try... _Kira thought back to her. After a few moments of concentration, he found the void changing around him. He was no longer in a void at all. He was standing on solid ground, in what looked like a forest. The detail on everything was astounding... he felt like he really WAS in a forest. He could hear birds singing, insects chirping, feel the loam beneath his toes... Kira looked down and discovered that he'd apparently forgotten to imagine himself some clothes, though his bodily details were strangely blurred as well. He could feel Lacus's arms around his waist, her hands clasped on his chest, her body pressed up against him, her chin resting on his shoulder as she snuggled up behind him. _Lacus! You're here! I can see you!_

_And I can see you, thank you Kira. Its so detailed, I had no idea your memory was that good._

_Where is here though!?_ Kira asked. A blush creeped along his cheeks as he remembered that apparently he had no talent for imagining clothes. _And... um... are you..._

_I'm in the imagination of a male, I'd expect that I'd HAVE to be, Kira._ Lacus giggled, and pressed closer. _Don't worry, I'm damping down on THAT part of your mind pretty heavily. We need to be focused here. Thanks though... thinking of you too..._

_Humor, at a time like this?_

_Humor is the sign of a healthy soul. Now where is it... hold out your hand, palm up._ Lacus directed.

_Okay... you still haven't told me where we are, or what we're doing._ Kira complied, raising his right hand up in front of his chest, palm facing the sky.

_You asked for my help, I'm doing what I can to give it to you. You're guiding me, actually... thoughts keep popping into my head... sudden ideas, memories maybe... but they're all from your perspective. As for where we are... somewhere in our dreams. Katie's talked about something like this... she called it a Trance. From what I gather, its something like a portal between minds like ours... Newtype minds. In here, your mind IS reality, and someone with the proper power... and knowledge... can change it. I have the power, and I might have the knowledge, and I think I know what we need to do. Focus on your SEED. Put it in the palm of your hand. Show it to me._

Kira did as she directed, and within moments there was a glistening purple SEED, about the size of a strawberry, cupped in his palm. As before, when he'd last seen it, it was covered with silver cracks, from which silver rootlings protruded and waved gently. The mere sight of them reminded him of the roots that crawled around the edges of his vision, and quite unbidden more of the silvery roots appeared, growing out of the corners of his eyes. Lacus could not help but see them, and Kira winced, wondering what she'd say.

_Oh wow, Kira... why didn't you say something?_ Lacus's voice was filled with wonder, not surprise or distress, and Kira broke out of his wince, blinking in confusion. _This must be so bothersome and painful... you're supposed to TELL me when you're in pain! I thought we AGREED on that!_

_You were hurt! I didn't want to burden you! I don't even understand it myself! I don't know whats happening to me!_

_Kira!_ Lacus's voice was strong with reproach. _There is physical pain and emotional pain... you should ALWAYS come to me with emotional pain... I can't help you if you won't let me! That is an ORDER now! I don't care if my arm is off... if you need HELP... ASK! Stupid MAN!_

_Lacus..._

_Don't "Lacus..." me! We'll have WORDS about this, later! I don't know how I know, but I can tell you that you're hurting yourself. Your SEED is trying to germinate, but it doesn't have what it needs! It can't GET it from you, no matter how far into it sends its roots or how deeply it digs! That's why it hurts! That's why you're starting to have hallucinations! It's DESPERATE, and its doing everything it can, but the thing is, it CANNOT DO IT ALONE! No tree can grow in even the most perfect soil if it doesn't have WATER!_ Lacus stretched forth her own hand, palm up. Her lavender-blue seed materialized within a scond or two, and with a gasp of effort, she reached up and clasped their hands together, combining the two SEEDS. Lacus's SEED broke apart and was absorbd into Kira's, and tiny silvery roots jumped and spun across the short gap between them before piercing Lacus's hand, much like the roots already pervading Kira's body. The forest went still and silent.

_What did you just do...?_ Kira asked, blinking in shock, just barely aware of the silvery tendrils retreating from around his eyes.

_I don't know... that wasn't what I was expecting to happen... I'm not even sure what I was talking about... feel like I been dreaming..._ Lacus's voice was a lot more tired all of a suden. _Say... is it just me or are the trees getting smaller...?_

_No... we're getting bigger actually. I think. Either might be accurate here._ By the time Kira was finished speaking the forest was just a patch of green amongst bigger patches of brown and grey and blue and more green. It wasn't until he saw the white clouds and the curve of the horizon that Kira realized they were now looking down at a planet. It looked sort of like Earth, but the details were fuzzy. There was another period of silence, and they could both feel the tension mounting, a huge, calm before the storm electric buildup. A gargantuan silver crack raced down the middle of the planet, followed immediately afterwards by dozens more. Cracks spread hither and yon until the entire face of the planet was filling up with them. The planet rotated, tottered, fell and struck an invisible surface in the bottom of his mind and soul, exploding in all consuming prismatic light that haloed a great tree, branches reaching for the heavens.

----------------------------------------------------

Kira and Lacus's eyes flew open at the same instant, identiclly washed out of color in SEED rages. There was something different this time though... something only someone very fmiliar with them would notice, and only upon looking closely... their eyes were changing color, the hues melding, mixing but still managing to remain seperate entities. United but different. They turned their gaze upon Frost, and smiled identical small smiles. They spoke in unison, so perfectly in tune that people could not tell who's voice came from which mouth, or even if both voices didn't come from both mouths at once. "Our apologies for zoning out there. We had some things we needed to help each other with. Now though, we're ready for you, Frost. Are you ready for us?" They asked.

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	106. The Incandescent Dawn

"SHUT UP! DON'T TALK TO ME! YOU MAKE ME SO ANGRY, BOTH OF YOU!" Frost screamed, eye rolling halfway up into his head at the mental impact of their words. She was doing it to him again! Just like Purgatory Day! Just like in November 8! She was attacking his mind! But this time was different! This time he had the Pulsar! This time he WOULD NOT BE WEAK! "I'LL KILL YOU! BOTH OF YOU! HIM FIRST, YOU NEXT, PINK! THEN I'LL GET THE REST OF YOU!"

"Kill one of us, and you will kill both of us, Frost." Kira and Lacus replied. The Liberty hung there in space, almost at idle, facing the Pulsar. Waiting. Confidently.

"I beat you already, KIRA YAMATO! THIS TIME, YOU WON'T COME BACK!" Frost shrieked. "I'll peel her skin! Split her bones! Defile her every fragment! I will do to her such things as you can never imagine! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" Frost swung his zweihander with all his might. The Liberty reached out with both hands... and caught the blade easily. "WHAT!?"

"That was a good test." Lacus and Kira said, their smile growing. The smile faded for a moment. "You won't lay a hand on us. Either of us. You will peel no skin. Crack no bones. Commit NO MORE ATROCITIES! Your time is OVER, FROST! We are your HOW!"

"You KNOW nothing! My HOW is for ME to determine! Not you! ME!" Frost ripped the blade out of the Liberty's unresisting hands, then sliced it back again abruptly. The Liberty caught the blade as easily as before, if not more so. Frost went berserk, slicing and slashing and swinging at the Liberty with all his energy, raining blows down upon the object of his hatred from all directions. Faster, faster, he urged himself to go faster, because no matter how hard he tried, the Liberty was ALWAYS just SLIGHTLY ahead of him! It was UNBELIEVABLE! The Liberty was dodging or redirecting or even catching ALL of his attacks, rendering them harmless and ineffective. "HOW!? How are you doing this! You couldn't do this before! You couldn't do this before!!"

"Kira could not, yes. We can, though. By helping each other. Together." Kira and Lacus answered, advancing on the Pulsar. "Kira could not compete against the speed of the Pulsar, coupled with your chaotic nature, Frost. But Lacus can see your moves before you make them by peering into your subconscious. She doesn't like doing it... your subconscious is not a place Kira wants her to have to see, nor is it a place Lacus wants to see... but she likes the thought of Kira getting hurt or killed much less. This fight is already over, Frost. You have lost."

"THIS FIGHT DOES NOT END UNTIL I SAY SO! AND I WON'T SAY SO UNTIL I HAVE SUPPED THE BLOOD FROM YOUR BROKEN SKULLS! YOU ARE BOTH WORTHLESS! FOOLISH! STUPID! WEAK! YOU ARE WRONG! I AM RIGHT! HUMANITY WILL PROVE ME RIGHT! LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT THEM!!"

"Perhaps it is you who should look at them." Lacus and Kira observed in reply. "Look closely, and see."

"THEY'RE KILLING EACH OTHER AS WE SPEAK! KILLING EACH... OTH... ER... AS... **WHAT!?"** Frost stared, actually and truly surprised. The ZAFT and Isolation fleets had stopped firing at each other, though they remained in relatively close proximity. Search and rescue vehicles could be seen pulling survivors out of space and the remains of their warships and vehicles, while Mobile Suits from both sides assisted, working alongside each other even. "NO! **NO!** HOW COULD YOU! HOW DARE YOU! I WON'T LET YOU!" Frost spun the Pulsar around and aimed himself for the largest concentration of rescue vehicles. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL, YOU STUPID HUMANS!"

"STOP! YOU SHALL DO NO SUCH THING!" Lacus's voice came to the fore, with a peculiar resonance to it. The Pulsar stopped COLD. Froze in place. Around the world and near space, people everywhere sat up in surprise as they felt the undeniable force of the command strike home. Anyone who could hear Lacus Clyne speak stopped what they were doing at that very moment. All at once. Whether or not they wanted to. Anyone who could not hear her voice was entirely unaffected, but by that point in time that was only a few hundred thousand people across the solar system. The compulsion, aimed at Frost, lasted for no more than a second or two for most people... but no one could deny that SOMETHING had reached out and stopped them cold, just for a moment. It was the very first publicly recognized use of Newtype powers.

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"What the fuck was that...?" Waltfeld asked, in a very, very tiny voice. He didn't usually swear like that in mixed company, but he felt the situation warrented it. Lacus paid him no heed, for which he was almost ashamed to say he was slightly grateful. Lacus had become a very frightening person all of a sudden. Not that she always hadn't been a little intimidating, when she wanted to be... but NOTHING compared to what he'd just seen. Unless he VERY MUCH missed his guess, Lacus had just used her Newtype whatever-the-hell-it-was to contact his mind. Not only contact it, but actually affect it, and not in the "hey I feel better" or "I feel calmer" or even "I feel sadder" sort of way that he'd somewhat experienced before. No, she'd given out a direct command, and his body and mind had obeyed it WITHOUT thinking. He had literally frozen up for a couple seconds, unable to move, even to blink. He'd had trouble remembering to BREATHE! Lacus seemed indifferent to the constrenation of everyone around her, but maybe her mind was elsewhere. Like, literally up in orbit with Kira. Waltfeld wasn't willing to discount ANYTHING at this point in time.

"Don't ANYBODY look at me! I may be a Newtype too, but there's NO WAY I could do that!" Katie said, as the eyes of the Clyne Faction members went to her, their resident Newtype "expert". "Far as I can tell, she's doing something no one even knew was POSSIBLE before! Probably because no one had the Newtypes to spare to try it... even Latents are too precious to be wasted frivously. It does make sense though..." Katie trailed off, a very thoughtful look creeping onto her face. "Given what happened on Purgatory Day. Yeah. Yeah! It makes SENSE! It's different, but I don't see why not, if they'd tranced! Come to think of it... YEAH!"

"Care to speak plainly, so I don't start thinking I should get a white coat with straps on it for you?" Cagalli was edging slightly away from Lacus. She didn't know what her brother and her friend were doing, but she was scared. If there was anything she really didn't like, it was people telling her what to do without her input. Not that she didn't trust Lacus implicitly... but still, it was startling to just have free will momentarily suspended, even all the way down to involuntary muscle control!

"Latent Newtypes have no powers of their own! They can't even beepcall by themselves!" Katie was getting excited now. If Lacus could do it with Kira, there was NO REASON Katie couldn't do it with Ysak! "The scientists and doctors thought that they were just extraordinarily sensitive to Active powers, like mine and Lacus's. But I'm starting to think thats not all there is to it. Lacus is very strong, especially when she's angry or protecting people she loves... strong emotions breed strong power, for Newtypes. But even at her most powerful, when she went after Sai and his guards outside of Orb, when they were threatening Kira, she could only affect a couple people. Yet, when she was walking along, holding hands or being carried by Kira in the Purgatory Day parade, she was affecting everyone who could hear her! Different uses of power, sure, but not THAT different! And just now, she froze everyone who heard her voice! Only for a couple seconds sure, but DAAMN! And the common factor? She's working in concert with Kira... whether unconsciously on his part, which probably requires touch on her part... or consciously... like they're doing now! Latent's aren't just sensitive... they're AMPLIFIERS! IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE!"

"To some people. I guess this is one of those things where you have to be in the know." Glory rumbled, half to himself.

"This is incredible! I can't WAIT to try this out with Ysak! The applications! The implications! It's beautiful!"

"She's off in her own world." Cagalli commented, eyeing Katie with apprehension.

"Given what Lacus just did... I'm not sure if her world ISN'T our world, now..." Murrue replied.

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"GRAAAAAH! NGGGH! ERRRGH!" Frost jerked himself back and forth so hard his physical body actually moved slightly. But try as he might, he COULD NOT fly towards the rescue vehicles. His body wouldn't respond! He could still move, and even fly... but only in directions that led him back towards the Liberty. "Very well then! I'll attend to them AFTER I attend to you! You can't stop me forever, Pink! Evil... finds... a... way!" Frost flung himself at the Liberty.

Kira had not put to waste the brief time Lacus had given him when she'd stopped Frost, quickly gathering up his beam sabers again. His shield was nowhere to be found, but with a sword in either hand, the raging power of his newly germinated SEED and the seemingly endless ocean of supportive emotion that represented Lacus settled across his shoulders and concentrated behind his eyes, he knew he didn't need anything else. Every thought Frost had, every twitch of muscle, every slight nerve impulse he felt, Lacus transmitted directly to Kira. Frost had lost his major advantage... Kira could now predict every last one of Frost's moves. The Pulsar still had the advantage of speed and mobility over the Liberty, but it didn't matter. Nothing Frost could do would surprise Kira now, and without that edge, Frost would never land another blow against him. It was a matter of time.

Kira tried not to look too closely at the parts of Frost's psyche that he could see. It was a dark, filthly, vile place inside Frost's thoughts. Kira gritted his teeth in barely constrained rage as he saw Frost's dreams for what he would do to Lacus and even Kira himself, if he were to have his way. They saw space colonies falling out of orbit, crashing down on Earth to spread blackness across the skies and winter across the land. They saw PLANTS cut open and left to bleed out all their air. They saw fire leaping in mile long plumes from the Lunar cities. They saw death and destruction and ruin and genocide. They were looking for some shred, some tiny glimmer of the person Frost had been, before the Doc had gotten hold of him. If there was such a thing in Frost, Kira and Lacus could not find it. Perhaps it had died out long ago. Perhaps it was just hidden down so deeply that they would be driven insane themselves if they were to dig for it. In either case, by joint decision, they left off their search. It didn't sit well with them personally, but maybe some people WERE irredeemable.

The Liberty dodged Frost's newest blitz, letting the raging Pulsar slide past them like a matador evading a bull. Kira sliced down with his left hand blade, as he'd used his right hand blade to turn Frost's swing away. The red plasma beam snipped off both of the cooling vanes on the Pulsar's right leg, deeply scoring the thrusters built into the back of the leg as well. Speed was no competitor to foreknowledge, assuming all other factors to be even. Frost bellowed, beyond words, heedless of the flashing alert signs and searing agony that filled his body. The aerated gel boiled and frothed around him as itbegan to break down under the heat bleeding into it from the Pulsar's extremely overburdened and impaired cooling system. Flesh sloughed off Frost in huge chunks, and his blood was bubbling in his veins. The Pulsar's outer surface was now completely charred black, except for the cooling vanes, which were still white hot and were in fact starting to melt. The one remaining red crystal eye in the Pulsar's head likewise was turning liquid, running down the Pulsar's face like bloody tears.

Frost circled the Pulsar around again, putting the Earth at his back and facing the Liberty from a distance. Frost was THROUGH with this bullshit! He was going to charge the Liberty, and he was going to HIT him! Whether it was with his sword or his body, Frost didn't give a FUCK! THIS WAS IT! "Warning... pilot intent exceeds current operating system parameters. Core meltdown imminent. Coolant levels, red, red. Emergency ejection and or shutdown recommended."

"DON'T TALK TO ME! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! NO ONE CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Frost shouted. He willed himself forward, into the all or nothing charge. Nothing happened. He wasn't moving. "MOVE! FLY! CHARGE! KILL! RESPOND! I'M NOT DONE YET!"

"It's over, Frost." Kira and Lacus said, as gently as they could manage. "You have achieved your destiny. Just as the Doc told you about."

"Doc...?" Frost seemed taken aback. "Destiny? My destiny!? MY DESTINY!? THIS IS NOT MY DESTINY! I'M NOT DONE YET! THIS IS NOT MY **HOW!!** IF THE PULSAR WON'T HELP ME, I'LL COME OUT THERE MYSELF AND KILL YOU!" Frost gave the command to open the cockpit hatch, heedless of the vacuum outside, heedless of the fact that by this point in time he was little more than a brain and a few organs stewing in the oxygen rich fluid inside the cockpit, which had reached temperatures of almost three hundred degrees. The cooling system had stopped functioning. Reactor containment was failing. And opening the cockpit hatch activated the last code Noah had been able to successfully input into the Pulsar's computer. The fusion pulse reactor, already operating at close to one hundred and twenty percent power, dropped its containment fields and entered sustained reaction at three hundred percent of previous levels. No physical material could handle that kind of heat.

The Pulsar ceased to exist between blinks of the eye, replaced by a rapidly expanding ball of superheated gasses which flared brightly enough to be seen all over Earth, on the Moon and clearly in the PLANTS. The light would have been visible from Jupiter, had there been any of Evidence 01's compatriots around at the time to see it. For a few, brief, wonderful seconds, a small sun came into being in near Earth orbit, casting an incandescent dawn across Human Space. Not having the heat, gravity or reaction mass to sustain itself, the thermonuclear fireball rapidly dissipated into space, leaving nothing in its wake... not even particles of dust had survived the firestorm. The Pulsar, was gone. Frost, was gone. Utterly consumed, leaving only memories behind to prove they existed. Kira and Lacus watched the fireball blossom, as they'd known it would, and slowly fade... and fading with it was the meld they'd formed, neither quite understanding how, but they weren't unhappy. Neither of them had ever wanted to be like this... they just wanted to be Lacus Clyne and Kira Yamato. That was their dream. To be two people, in love, with no responsibilities or worries beyond themselves, united in their pursuit of happiness for them and their friends. It was just too bad that events, past, present and future, were not aligned very well with their dream.

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Noah Borander saw the massive fireball that the Pulsar had turned into, and he jumped out of his chair with unrestrained joy. "HA! HAHAH! HE GOT YOU! HE GOT YOU! HAHAHA! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, FROST!? HUH!? WHO'S GOING TO KILL WHO!? KIRA GOT YOU... HE BEAT YOU, JUST LIKE I SAID HE WOULD! I'M SMART, YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE DEAD! DEAD! DEAD, DEAD, DEAD! I HOPE IT HURT! YOU... YOU... DOO-HEAD!" Noah realized he was shouting at the top of his lungs and capering on the top of his chair. There was no one to see him, but it was still faintly embarassing. He hadn't realized how worried he'd actually been, until just now. Things had NOT gone according to plan... but things HAD worked out, eventually. Parameters had changed, but it was nothing he couldn't adapt for. His basic goals HAD been accomplished! The foundation was laid! Now construction could begin in earnest for the Golden Age of Humanity Noah would orchestrate. And lead, naturally. But that was years and years yet into the future... right now it was the hour of the Clyne Faction. And deservedly so!

"I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Noah's computer screamed at him. He jerked backwards in shock, so rapidly and suddenly he actually tipped over backwards, hitting his head painfully on the floor. "WHERE ARE YOU!? WHY CAN'T I SEE ANYTHING!? I'LL KILL YOU! KILL YOU BOTH!" Frost's voice continued to rave and curse, coming from the speakers of Noah's computer. Tenatively, mouth agape in shock, Noah poked his head up over the plane of his desk, staring at his computer. "AHA! NOAH! THAT MUST BE YOU! I'M GLAD TO SEE YOU, LITTLE BOY! WE HAVE SOME THINGS TO DISCUSS, YOU AND I... BUT FIRST... LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM! No!? Let me help you... wait... what is this!? Why can't I move!? Where are my arms!? My legs!? My body!? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?"

"I... don't... know..." Noah replied, his mind working very, very quickly indeed. His computer had still been gathering data from the Pulsar up till its moment of destruction. The data, of course, came straight through the NIC system program, which was what Frost had corrupted with his own mind during Noah's attempt to electrocute him. It was theoretically possible for that data flow to have included the corrupted parts of the system... Noah backed away from the computer on primal instinct. His first urge was to get a fire axe from nearby and smash the computer to tiny bits, until not one circuit wafer was whole! He was beginning to move that way when the rational part of his mind took control again. Here was a fully... well, mostly... formed artificial intelligence program! In the flesh, Frost had the advantage over him! But now Frost was just a bunch of computer data! And there was no computer data ANYWHERE that Noah wasn't the master of! Still, this was way too freaky for him to think about right now... his young mind was spinning with emotional relief. He wasn't gonna die! Frost was dead! There was no bogeyman coming for him!

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL K-" Frost's voice, which had descended into a rant again, cut off when Noah darted forward and turned off the power to the computer, shutting it down at once. Noah wasn't sure what he was going to do with the recorded personality and memories of the most evil being he'd ever encountered, but he was sure he'd eventually think of something. And if not, he could destroy Frost any time he felt like it. Win-win. For the meanwhile though... the computer was going, safely off, into the most secure vault he could locate... and then HE was going to bed, because it was WAY past his bedtime!

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Working with a very tired yet still completely determined Lacus, Cagalli and the other members of the Clyne Faction who'd remained on Earth wasted little time in assuming command of the Isolation forces and immediately began mutual cease fire proceedings with the PLANTS, formalizing the pact already in place between the remains of the fleets in Earth orbit. It was never found out which side had declared its intention to follow Lacus and Cagalli's lead first... some sources said ZAFT, others the Isolation, still more said the exchange was mutual and concurrent. In any case, it was the results that mattered, not the cause. Search and rescue efforts continued on,in both space and on Earth, late into the night and for much of the next several weeks. Military casualties in Denver were fairly light, only a few hundred dead and a few thousand injured. Civilian casualty numbers were much worse, with tens of thousands dead, including Vanai Argyle, the First Lady and more than a million wounded, including President Sai Argyle, who remained in a coma and one Lieutenant Cyprus Finch, discovered after several days of digging in the ruins of the Capital Building. Haggard, thinned, with a broken collarbone and left arm as well as several cracked ribs and nursing one hell of a concussion... but alive to continue on.

Markov Ashino, Ysak Joule, Dearka Elsman and Miriallia Haw were all recovered after spending a few hours in varying degrees of extravehicular comfort. Ysak had missed the conclusion of the fight, and was still spoiling for a chance to get back at Frost, until he learned of what had happened. After that he just sat in a corner and whimpered a bit, dreading the moment he next saw Katie... he KNEW she'd be VERY interested in pursuing this new line of Newtype research... and he could guess who she was going to use as a guinea pig too. Dearka and Miriallia were just glad to be out of space, they were still shell shocked from the destruction of the Grand Buster, which had come apart around them like a house being ripped up by a hurricane. Ashino didn't say much of anything at all... but he was smiling, as he looked down at Earth.

As for Athrun, he was picked up after spending twelve hours in the middle of the Atlantic ocean in a tiny life raft. The Righteous was somewhere on the bottom of the ocean, deeper than it was profitable to salvage. For all that, he was in quite a good mood, because he hadn't burned to death on the way down, through no little skill on his part. Still, he resolved to stay firmly grounded... at least for a little while. Earth was a fine place to live... no reason to go streaking through the atmosphere unless he absolutely had to. Up in space, Lunamaria and Shinn found themselves with the unenviable task of piloting the recovered Clyne Faction members and Ashino back down to Earth, along with a hurriedly put together delegation of the senior ZAFT officers present in the fleet. Following that initial delegation within days was averitable deluge of diplomatic craft, as the entire PLANT Supreme Council came to Earth for peace talks. For every diplomatic shuttle that came down though, at least one shuttle laden with food and other necessary supplies left Earth for the PLANTS, as a goodwill gesture.

Sai did not wake from his coma, despite the best professional medical care available. Even the PLANT doctors could not wake him, or improve his condition. Persistent vegetative state. Brain damage even. His skull had been fractured by the Pulsar's hand, and the bone fragments had spread throughout his brain. There was nothing anyone could do besides wait, and hope his body eventually healed itself. Even if that near miracle were to occur though, he would remain paralyzed from the waist down, as a result of other injuries suffered. By the time the other politicalplayers in the Isolationist government realized that the President wasn't actually the ones giving orders or granting emergency powers, it was too late. Lacus and Cagalli had built up enough momentum with their peace talks movement that no politician who wanted to keep his job, and maybe even his life, could dare stand in their way. Over the course of the next several months the Isolation collapsed in on itself, unable to survive without the drive and focus of its creator.

That was not to say that the byproducts of the Isolation, such as the new sense of unity between the nations of Earth and the people who lived on the Moon, or much of the organizational revamping that Sai had instituted, all came unravelled. Far from it in fact. It was merely what would eventually become the Isolationist political party that fell from popular power, to be replaced by new incumbents in a renewal of a political cycle almost as old as Democracy itself. As things progressed and time passed, Cagalli was forced to spend more time speaking as the Representative of Orb, one nation amongst many on Earth, which limited her direct influence on the peace process, though, through her friendship and association with Lacus, she still kept things moving from behind the scenes. It was not an easy process they endured, but, almost half a year after the formal end of hostilities, a new, overarching political entity came into being. The United Nations had been abolished shortly after the beginning of the First Valentine War. It was agreed by all parties that simpy reforming the UN was not sufficient or even desired by all parties. The major political powers had resolved themselves into four power blocs.

The United Neutrality of Orb (UNO), which encompassed Orb, the old Kingdom of Scandanvia and much of the old United States of South America, was an economic and military alliance, which ceded political leadership to Orb in most major matters. The Oceanic Union formally applied for protectorate status with the PLANTS, and ended up becoming a thirteenth city, earning a place on the Supreme Council as the PLANTS terrestrial holdings (PLANTS). The Atlantic Federation, Eurasian Federation and Republic of East Asia, after much infighting, eventually stabilized into the Federated Nations of Earth (FNE). In an unexpected move, the nations of Africa aligned themselves with the Lunar cities to form the Afro-Lunic Union (ALU). All four powers had equal voting rights and responsibilities under the charter of what was to become known as the United Solar Nation. Each member-state of the USN maintained their own military forces, but all were expected and required to provide forces for a unilateral police and peacekeeping force larger than any individual power bloc army.

They tried to set Lacus up as first Secretary-General of the USN, regardless of her age, but she refused to let them. Indeed, she denied any and all offers of political postings, even from Cagalli. Once peace had been attained, and the groundwork for the formation of the USN laid, Lacus had little desire to be involved in politics. She formally dissolved the Clyne Faction, though it remained on in the form of the Clyne Foundation, a multinational charity organization, to which she was always glad to accept donations, as long as you didn't expect favors for them. She retired from public view, save for the odd charity event or music performance, onto a small island just outside of Orb. There, she and Kira built themselves a home near Reverend Malchio's chapel and orphanage. That small slice of the world was more than big enough for the two of them, though Kira did make frequent trips to Orb, both for business and pleasure. They never actually formally married, despite Kira's proposal, though they did have a small, private ceremony with Reverend Malchio, just for themselves. To the world at large they remained Lacus Clyne and Kira Yamato, seperate, but together.

Murrue Ramius went to work for Orb as a liason to the USN fleets, and Andrew went with her. He'd debated returning to the PLANTS, and had actually been offered a similar job with ZAFT to what he was doing for Orb, but his heart lay with his friends on Earth now more than it did his few friends back on the PLANTS. He continued to romantically pursue Murrue whenever he had the chance. Progress was slow... but a hunting tiger has nothing if not patience. Ledonir Kisaka went back to doing exactly what he'd been doing for most of his life... trying to keep Cagalli from getting up to too much trouble, which was never as easy as it seemed, even with... or maybe because of... Athrun's influence. Kisaka too spent some time pursuing Murrue... he'd not given up either, and he felt he'd spent more than enough time mourning and honoring his fiancee by then. It was time to move on with new life, in the new world they'd helped bring about.

Dearka and Miriallia elected to stay on Earth, in Orb. Or rather, that's what Miriallia said she wanted, and Dearka hadn't offered any arguement whatsoever. To be honest, despite the mending he'd managed while up in the PLANTS, he was happiest when he wasn't around his family every day. They both retired from active military service, though they did accept a retainer from the government in case they were needed for some major catastrophe. Gundam Pilots weren't people you wanted at loose ends, after all. Miriallia went to college and ended up picking out a photojournalism degree. Meanwhile, Dearka had saved up enough money to buy a salvage trawler, and they spent many happy hours together out on the sea as he ferried her from location to location, while trawling the ocean depths for all sorts of accumulated junk. It wasn't the most profitable life in the world... but they did all right, and that was good enough for both of them.

Ysak and Katie went to live in the PLANTS, Ysak having no major connections on Earth besides Katie herself, and she was more than happy to go live in the PLANTS, given her enamourment with their climate. It wasn't made very public, but Ysak was quickly offered a senior position in ZAFT as it rebuilt itself. Gundam Pilots were people you wanted firmly on your side during trouble, after all. Katie actually went to work "for" Ysak, as his bodyguard and "diplomatic" advisor, which was a source of never ending grumbles from him, since she ordered him around mercilessly in private. Despite himself, Ysak still maintained close ties with his... comrades. Friendly comrades, down on Earth. Emphatically not friends, but friendly comrades, sure. If nothing else, he didn't want to drift too far away from Erica Simmons... she was his best chance for getting a new Gundam in a timely fashion and THAT was something to treasure! When he wasn't working, Ysak spent much of his time, as he'd feared, being used by Katie as a testing subject for all sorts of new theories regarding Newtypes... some of which bore fruit, others less so.

Cagalli was of course set into her role as Queen and Chief Representative of Orb to the USN. As time went on she delegated more and more of her ambassadorial duties to Athrun, who was just plain more level headed than her when it came to tough diplomacy. Royal Consort wasn't actually a politically powered position in Orb, but like the First Spouse of the Atlantic Federation Presidency, the position carried a lot of subtle power. Athrun maintained strong ties with the Orb Military forces and Morganroete Armories, as well as usuing his reputation and influence in ZAFT to bring Orb and the PLANTS as close together as he could. God forbid it should ever happen, but he never ever wanted Orb to enter a major conflict by itself again! He didn't think the nation could bounce back from too many more razings. In their very brief times off from work, Cagalli and Athrun did their best to maintain contact with their friends, but running a major nation, much less leading a major political faction, didn't leave them much time for socializing. They didn't mind too much... they were both happiest when they were making a difference, every day.

Alkire and Raine took up residence in Orb, where they went to work as "special security consultants" for the Orb government. Practically speaking, they became bodyguards for Cagalli and Athrun, as well as general "troubleshooters". World wide war wasn't really an issue anymore... but that didn't mean things were all totally hunky-dory and peachy. Blue Cosmos wasn't totally gone, Tiamat stubbornly refused to die out and not everyone was totally happy with how things turned out. All sorts of minor terrorist and criminal groups popped up, each trying to grab more than their fair share of the leftover power and detrius of war. Such people needed to be dealt with, often outside the public eye. At length, Alkire and Raine attracted the services of Richard Ramierez, Thomas Glory and Cyprus Finch, all recently discharged from a shadowy part of the old EA military. Having found none of the political leaders of the FNE to be to their taste, and finding Cagalli and Athrun significantly less onerous than Lacus, the three former Hellhounds were, if not glad to, at least willing to offer their skills when they were needed. As time went by they would eventually grow to be the core of a new group of clandestine agents, to replace the defunct TEMPEST.

Markov Ashino went to live with Jean Kellson and her family. This displeased Jean to no small amount, since she'd wanted to move in with Ashino instead, and now she was forced to finish school and even go on to college afterwards! Ashino went to work directly for the USN, not trusting the old nations of the FNE and not familiar enough with any place else to offer them his alliegance. He maintained contact with Cyprus and the other Hellhounds, which brought him into contact with Cagalli and Athrun and the people in Orb often enough to produce at least a slight mellowing of opinion between them. Ashino didn't think he'd ever be able to be fully comfortable around Coordinators, but he was certain that he didn't hate them anymore, which he took as a huge step forward in overcoming his conditioning. As for Eric Kellson, Jean's older brother and Ashino's friend, he went through a few tough times as he got over Ella Kissinger's death, the girl he'd fallen in love with in the 71st Special Mobile Squadron. But he eventually, with some help from Ashino and much kicking from Jean, did get through them, and he rapidly worked his way back to his old position as Ashino's aide and general advisor on things "normal", when Jean wasn't around.

In the PLANTS, the political scene was rocked by a huge number of scandals as all sorts of incriminating evidence against many current politicians came out all at once. Bribery, fraud, embezzlement, adultery and less savory things besides. One of the only people not touched in some way by this storm of black stains was one Gilbert Durandel, former Deputy Interior Minister, and now on the fast track to becoming a Supreme Councilman, though it would be some years before he could legitimately ascend to the position. His contract with Noah Borander, who's computer programs had provided him with all the dirt he could ever use on his political opponents, had paid major dividends. In return, he direct the spotlight of public attention well away from BoranderCorp. Even the fact that the Pulsar, ZAFT's stolen gundam that had been used to such ill effect by the madman Zacharis Frost, had been made by BornaderCorp was quietly swept under the rug and soon forgotten. All of the scientists and technicians who had detailed knowledge of the Pulsar project either had accidents or woke up one day with such a pounding headache and absolutely no memory of the past year or so. Noah's secrets remained his secrets. He took regular downloads from Melanie, his covert spy in Lacus's house, though he rapidly grew bored with the scenes of regular domestic life that seemed to be all the converted Pink Haro saw.

As for Sai's children, they were never found. No bodies, no blood, nothing. Perhaps a rescue worker had picked them up and they'd become lost in the thousands of other young children who'd recently lost their families. Perhaps they'd been crushed beyond recognition by the Pulsar's hand. Perhaps they'd been buried under the rubble after all, and hadn't been in their mother's arms to begin with. No one could say for sure. They were far from the only people to remain unaccounted for, at least for years and years. Others included Craydon Thresher, pilot of the Merciless... remains never found. Or Mary O'Brien, hospital nurse in Orb. Lost during Purgatory Day, when her hospital collapsed. Body never found. Aireg Randolf, ZAFT Commander, lost in the Sahara desert outside of Gibralter... remains never found. Jean Dylan, traitor and escaped convict, lost during the Levansworth Prison Break orchestrated by TEMPEST... never recaptured. Even Mu la Flaga, presumed dead during the second battle of Jachin Due... but no corpse, or even fragments of the body, had ever turned up. And behind the scenes, a grand plan, set into motion by tiny hands and a huge mind, grew ever more concrete and ripe as the years wore by.

-----------------------------------------------------------------**CHAOTIC COSMOS: FINIS--------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**----------------------------------------------------**

Author Note: HOLY FUCKING SHIT I DID IT! I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT! I'll stop swearing now... but thats how I'm really feeling as I write this. Three years, people! THREE YEARS! Maybe only so long because of my long periods of inactivity, due to the vagaries of real life or World of Warcraft (Damn that real life and thrice damn WoW, its murder on writing!), but now, its done! DONE, DONE, DONE! HAHAHA! Its too bad its almost midnight here on a worknight, cause I really need to go out and celebrate somehow. I'll figure something out. That said, I must say this as well...

THANK YOU, READERS AND ESPECIALLY REVIEWERS!

Couldn't have done it without you guys, else I probably would have ended up walking away out of frustration. Really, you guys and girls saved my literary ass, and definitely saved this story, more times than I want to count! Kudos to all of you, past and present and hopefully future, for your comments, inspirations and encouragement! You guys kick ASS!

Hopefully, if the stars align and everything works out like I want it too, I'll be posting a new story soon. A continuation of this one. It's going to be called "The Eden Disaster". It's going to blow your fucking socks off! Oops, swearing, sorry. Look for it! Read it, as much as I give it to you to read anyway... and please, I beg you on my hands and knees... cause I happen to be on them anyway while writing on my laptop... please, please review. Offer me your wisdom! Let me play in your worlds too, a little.

Oh yes. Gundam fans... thats us, of course, since you're reading this... I came up with new Gundams for our heroes for the new story. New story, new Gundams... pattern perhaps? I'm babbling, I know. Like Frost. Is it annoying anyone? Don't worry, I won't skin you and eat you. Even in proxy. I won't give you the technical details... though I thank you, thank you, thank you for your ideas when I asked for them in my reader review request thing... but I can give you the names.

Athrun: **Phoenix King**

Kira: **Knight Angel**

Dearka/Miriallia: **Warmaster**

Ysak/Katie (Yeah, it gonna kick ass): **Vorpal Edge**

Cagalli: **Dawn Goddess**

Looking forward to it. And now... off to writing again, since I'm stuck on base with no where else to go and I sure as heck can't sleep right now.


	107. Onwards!

**Okay. Just so people know, since I've been getting a good few reviews to this tune... Second story has been started already! The Eden Disaster, look for it! 6 chapters already up! The prelude is over, the next mini-arc is the first real meat and bones.**

Just thought I'd point it out, since many reviewers are saying "oh, I just noticed your second stroy is up".


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